HOW THEY MET
This is the detailed analysis of how the members of the Sanderson Times Society came together. It all started when Otis Terry Sanderson was in aisle 8 of Price Chopper, the candy/chips aisle. With two bags of Tostitos in hand, a bag of Sea Salt And Cracked Pepper Kettle Cooked chips, and some Bold Chex Mix, Sanderson was debating snagging a can of Pringles for the ride home, but he just couldn’t pull himself to do so yet. It was still too early. So he wandered a bit further to the candy section where he was about to grab a bag of peanut butter M&M’s, when he tripped, and fell in love. A cute young girl helped him up, and scrounged up his bags of chips off the floor and handed them to him. Their eyes met, and he new what he had found. He found a true love. He found a new writer for his newspaper. He found Carrie Oakey.
She loved reading his writings, and she loved his humor. After reading many of his previously unpublished articles, she developed her own style of writing, but could only write about passionate subjects. Together they wrote a great deal of fabulous, funny articles. One day they were out for pizza, one of Carrie’s favorite foods, and while sitting in at a table, Carrie accidentally dropped a pepperoni. It all happened in slow motion. The pepperoni fell from the pizza, nicked the edge of the table, and twirled end over end on the way to the ground, when suddenly, a finger came out of nowhere, snatched the ‘roni like a salamander snatching a fly, and the finger returned with the pepperoni to the guy at the next table over, who calmly ate it. And that’s how Luther Brewster joined the team. Sanderson started chatting it up with Brewster while Oakey just sat, astonished, not so much at what she just saw, but at the size of that finger. After several dreamy thoughts ran through her mind, she finally snapped back to reality and joined the others in conversation, and Brewster became the third solid member of the staff.
A few days had passed, and the three had really begun to grow excited about this “newspaper” they were working on. Sanderson and Oakey were firing off articles, while Brewster listened, laughed, and got a feel for the project. He decided to pitch in and help out, not so much by writing his own, but by offering tips and designing a cover for the paper. After all, it is pretty hard for a guy to type when his index finger is the size of a youth baseball bat. So they wrote and discussed and laughed, and one day while walking by a local gym, a 6’2” hockey player came out with a cut off on, and accidentally knocked Carrie over. He politely excused himself, apologized, and picked up the article for her that had flown out of her hand. As he handed it back, he chuckled after catching a glimpse of it, and Oakey told him he can have it. He read it right there on the spot, continually laughing, and begged to read more. And that’s how Rufus Feldmore entered the fray.
Rufus was invited over to Sanderson’s for pizza and fingers of chicken that night. He read some articles, then read some more, and finally hopped on the computer and wrote one of his own. It was remarkable. He became the fourth member of the Society, and never looked back. He fit right in. In fact, Feldmore asked the crew to join in for a drink at the bar to celebrate his induction. Because of Oakey’s age, they decided having a drink during the afternoon would be their best bet, as Oakey was not able to get into bars. So the crew headed to Peabody ’s that Sunday afternoon to watch some football. As they were about to enter, a commotion took place at the door, and the bouncer, Coach Vern Harrison, threw out an angry and belligerent drunk customer. It was 12:52pm, just about time for kickoff, and Yashur Al Fuquer was already beyond wasted, and was banned from the bar. Being good citizens, the crew brought Yashur along with them to the Green Room to watch the game, as it was way too cold for someone to pass out outside. They plopped Yash in the corner, and ordered some pizza, some wings and some Brews to watch the game. The next thing you know, it was halftime, and Feldmore got up to order another round consisting of three Coors Lights and an apple juice, when he realized that the drunkard was no longer in the corner. They searched the bar, and didn’t have to look far. They found him all by himself dancing on the dance floor. He spent about as much time on the floor as he did on his feet, but he had a second wind. When the game started back up, then invited him to sit with them, and wouldn’t you know, that’s how that crazy Fuqer became part of the clan.
He enjoyed the articles he heard, and he wrote some of his own, and he was now a valued member of the Society. He went along with Sanderson, Brewster, and Feldmore to pick Oakey up from school one day, when they heard music coming from the next classroom over. Yashur wanted to check it out, as he had already downed a twelver and was ready to cut loose. They peered through the doorway, and the teacher was all by himself jiving his hips to Shakira. As he spun around, he noticed he was being watched, and bashfully stopped the music and went to explain himself to the on-lookers. As he approached, Yashur aggressively went at this teacher and started backing it up on him, then turned around and swiped his credit card on the poor guy. Sanderson, Feldmore, Brewster, and Oakey apologized for Yash’ misbehavior, and invited the man over for some pizza. He kindly accepted, and that’s how Mr. Stamford Branch became the sixth and final member of the Sanderson Times Society.
He read their work, he stunned them with writings of his own, and together they decided to go public. Their collaboration of wonderful literature is available online for viewing, and they even have their own clothesline. To see the works of these famed six, please visit http://sandersontimes1.blogspot.com/
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
CEO
Monday, January 19, 2009
Mr. I Wear Sweatpants at the Bar Guy
Sanderson Times presents…
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy…
(Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy!)
Giving no thought to how it may appear, you walk the streets of Margaret and Clinton going from bar to bar, in an outfit more suited for a Saturday morning watching cartoons….
When you were 9 years old
(Almost time for DarkWing Duck!)
Dress shirts, Pressed Khakis, and a pair of loafers? Not for you…Instead, you settle on impressing women with the beer stains on your grey bottoms that stretch for miles…
(No ironing for me yeah!)
Dancing with no one in particular, you impress women of all shapes and sizes with your patented hip thrusts and finger points.
(He thrusts to Tiffany!)
Is that a mouse in your pants? I just can’t tell…because you have sweatpants on and there is just too much room…
(Hiding my vicious package!)
So crack open an ice cold brewski oh “Captain of the Cotton”. Because while others have to dress for the Saturday morning pickup game, all you have to do is roll out of bed…
(Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch - Boston Office
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy…
(Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy!)
Giving no thought to how it may appear, you walk the streets of Margaret and Clinton going from bar to bar, in an outfit more suited for a Saturday morning watching cartoons….
When you were 9 years old
(Almost time for DarkWing Duck!)
Dress shirts, Pressed Khakis, and a pair of loafers? Not for you…Instead, you settle on impressing women with the beer stains on your grey bottoms that stretch for miles…
(No ironing for me yeah!)
Dancing with no one in particular, you impress women of all shapes and sizes with your patented hip thrusts and finger points.
(He thrusts to Tiffany!)
Is that a mouse in your pants? I just can’t tell…because you have sweatpants on and there is just too much room…
(Hiding my vicious package!)
So crack open an ice cold brewski oh “Captain of the Cotton”. Because while others have to dress for the Saturday morning pickup game, all you have to do is roll out of bed…
(Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch - Boston Office
The Society, 2020
The Society, 2020
Plattsburgh , NY (AP): I was recently sitting back in my chair and thinking about all the good times we’ve had as the Sanderson Times Society. And that lead to another thought. A thought about where we will all be in a few years and what we’ll be doing. And then I just let out a slight chuckle, as I realized that our futures have already been told by our pasts.
It’s a given where Yashur Al Fuqer will be. In eleven years when any of us stumble into the Green Room, we know we’ll find Yash either at the bar slurring, or if we walk in late, we’ll find him passed out from drunkenness and tiresome from cutting.’ And if we go downtown really late, we’ll find him passed out on the curb because he’ll have already been kicked out. But no matter what time we go downtown on any day in the year 2020, we can surely count on finding the alcoholic himself slicing through the boards on the dancefloor, and then curled up in the fetal position after his body liquefies and shuts down for a few hours while he detoxifies.
As for Carrie Oakey, well, her best years are still to come. She’s so cute that I foresee her with a nice family, probably married to some hoodlum like O’nohie Diddent. I see her with three kids, whom she has pleasant nicknames for, such as pumpkin, muffin, and peanut. I see her as a woman of charm, as she is a given cutie-pie. She will appear cute on the outside, but when one rubs her the wrong way, I foresee her vocalizing her strong feelings, not holding back, and perhaps getting a few restraints. But nonetheless, I still see her busting out sick fist-pumps, no matter the place, no matter the crowd, and no matter how white she is at a Beenie Man rap concert.
I see Otis following more along the lines of Yashur’s future, spending many nights at the bar, and thrusting many-a-hip. Otis will surely need a hip replacement or two from viciously firing off hip-thrusts to “Call On Me.” He may even get a call to be in a music video. And maybe not in 2020, but at some point, I see him being the Times’ Man of the Year…maybe it’ll be Times the magazine, or maybe it’ll be the Sanderson Times, but he’s bound to receive national recognition for starting a company of this caliber.
Rufus…Oh, Rufus Feldmore. After suffering two violent divorces, I see him giving up on trying to keep it to one woman at a time, and he’ll turn back into the pimp he was/is back in his late teens, early-late twenties. Though he’ll probably have eight or nine uncounted-for illegitimate children, he will not be raising any, and he’ll stay a proud, busy bachelor for his remaining years to come. He’ll be spotted several times at huge events, such as the Golden Globe Awards, as he’ll be the date of a gorgeous, famous, lucky lady. In 2020, he’ll come in second place in the Mr. Northeast USA competition, only because he’ll have slept with the judge’s wife, and pounded his youngest daughter.
Which brings me to my next vision, Luther Brewster. He’ll be that guy who creeps around the playground, pretending he’s working on his golf swing. He’ll occasionally hit a ball, only to “have to” get closer to the monkey bars for a better look. But he’ll also have his fantasy life, in which he’ll be madly wed to T-bitty, and they’ll have a sick relationship. Let’s relate Brewster to Pinnochio, and T-bitty to Gepedo, and when Brewster lies, his right pointer/index finger grows. So T-bitty keeps asking ridiculous questions so that Brewster is forced to lie, in which the pleasure grows uncontrollably great from yards away. He’ll have his name in the Guinness Book of World Records…for longest index finger.
And then there’s Stamford Branch. By the year 2020, I’m sorry, but you’ll have been in your 90’s. But we’ll always remember you. That’s a joke. Well, not the we’ll always remember you part, cuz we would, but that you’ll be in your 90’s. Although leading the team in age, he’ll be tied with Sanderson for hip replacements. Branch will be featured in a techno remake of Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie” video, in which he’ll break out his Dino Dance, which will be the fad of the 20’s. He’ll have retired as a creepy school teacher, and will take up a part time job of sealing envelopes. He will have several slogans out there which will be used in commercials and pep-rallies. An example: There will be a Boston family with a very strong accent having a nice picnic. The father will say, “Mahk (Mark), did you grab the sandwiches out of the cah (car)?” And the wife will sort through the picnic basket, grab one and say, “Here you go Hunny.” Mark will turn to his father and loudly belch, “Well I muuuuuuuuuustaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!!!”
And although we’ll all have gone our individual ways, all paths will connect. For once one is inducted into the Sanderson Times Society, he/she remains connected to the fellow members by monthly meetings. Even Diddent is still invited. Yeah, she’ll have to be our little b*tch, and if Otis wants a Brew you better believe Diddent will get Otis a Brew, but she’ll still be invited. Because we’re a Society. We all have our place in this society, and in 2020, things won’t have changed. Yashur will surely be the alcoholic he is today, Oakey will still be cute, Sanderson and Branch will have thrusting hips and honest hips, respectively, Feldmore will be a pimp, and Brewster will have a really long index finger. Why? Because that’s the way we mustah.
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
CEO
Plattsburgh , NY (AP): I was recently sitting back in my chair and thinking about all the good times we’ve had as the Sanderson Times Society. And that lead to another thought. A thought about where we will all be in a few years and what we’ll be doing. And then I just let out a slight chuckle, as I realized that our futures have already been told by our pasts.
It’s a given where Yashur Al Fuqer will be. In eleven years when any of us stumble into the Green Room, we know we’ll find Yash either at the bar slurring, or if we walk in late, we’ll find him passed out from drunkenness and tiresome from cutting.’ And if we go downtown really late, we’ll find him passed out on the curb because he’ll have already been kicked out. But no matter what time we go downtown on any day in the year 2020, we can surely count on finding the alcoholic himself slicing through the boards on the dancefloor, and then curled up in the fetal position after his body liquefies and shuts down for a few hours while he detoxifies.
As for Carrie Oakey, well, her best years are still to come. She’s so cute that I foresee her with a nice family, probably married to some hoodlum like O’nohie Diddent. I see her with three kids, whom she has pleasant nicknames for, such as pumpkin, muffin, and peanut. I see her as a woman of charm, as she is a given cutie-pie. She will appear cute on the outside, but when one rubs her the wrong way, I foresee her vocalizing her strong feelings, not holding back, and perhaps getting a few restraints. But nonetheless, I still see her busting out sick fist-pumps, no matter the place, no matter the crowd, and no matter how white she is at a Beenie Man rap concert.
I see Otis following more along the lines of Yashur’s future, spending many nights at the bar, and thrusting many-a-hip. Otis will surely need a hip replacement or two from viciously firing off hip-thrusts to “Call On Me.” He may even get a call to be in a music video. And maybe not in 2020, but at some point, I see him being the Times’ Man of the Year…maybe it’ll be Times the magazine, or maybe it’ll be the Sanderson Times, but he’s bound to receive national recognition for starting a company of this caliber.
Rufus…Oh, Rufus Feldmore. After suffering two violent divorces, I see him giving up on trying to keep it to one woman at a time, and he’ll turn back into the pimp he was/is back in his late teens, early-late twenties. Though he’ll probably have eight or nine uncounted-for illegitimate children, he will not be raising any, and he’ll stay a proud, busy bachelor for his remaining years to come. He’ll be spotted several times at huge events, such as the Golden Globe Awards, as he’ll be the date of a gorgeous, famous, lucky lady. In 2020, he’ll come in second place in the Mr. Northeast USA competition, only because he’ll have slept with the judge’s wife, and pounded his youngest daughter.
Which brings me to my next vision, Luther Brewster. He’ll be that guy who creeps around the playground, pretending he’s working on his golf swing. He’ll occasionally hit a ball, only to “have to” get closer to the monkey bars for a better look. But he’ll also have his fantasy life, in which he’ll be madly wed to T-bitty, and they’ll have a sick relationship. Let’s relate Brewster to Pinnochio, and T-bitty to Gepedo, and when Brewster lies, his right pointer/index finger grows. So T-bitty keeps asking ridiculous questions so that Brewster is forced to lie, in which the pleasure grows uncontrollably great from yards away. He’ll have his name in the Guinness Book of World Records…for longest index finger.
And then there’s Stamford Branch. By the year 2020, I’m sorry, but you’ll have been in your 90’s. But we’ll always remember you. That’s a joke. Well, not the we’ll always remember you part, cuz we would, but that you’ll be in your 90’s. Although leading the team in age, he’ll be tied with Sanderson for hip replacements. Branch will be featured in a techno remake of Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie” video, in which he’ll break out his Dino Dance, which will be the fad of the 20’s. He’ll have retired as a creepy school teacher, and will take up a part time job of sealing envelopes. He will have several slogans out there which will be used in commercials and pep-rallies. An example: There will be a Boston family with a very strong accent having a nice picnic. The father will say, “Mahk (Mark), did you grab the sandwiches out of the cah (car)?” And the wife will sort through the picnic basket, grab one and say, “Here you go Hunny.” Mark will turn to his father and loudly belch, “Well I muuuuuuuuuustaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!!!”
And although we’ll all have gone our individual ways, all paths will connect. For once one is inducted into the Sanderson Times Society, he/she remains connected to the fellow members by monthly meetings. Even Diddent is still invited. Yeah, she’ll have to be our little b*tch, and if Otis wants a Brew you better believe Diddent will get Otis a Brew, but she’ll still be invited. Because we’re a Society. We all have our place in this society, and in 2020, things won’t have changed. Yashur will surely be the alcoholic he is today, Oakey will still be cute, Sanderson and Branch will have thrusting hips and honest hips, respectively, Feldmore will be a pimp, and Brewster will have a really long index finger. Why? Because that’s the way we mustah.
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
CEO
Sanderson Times presents…
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man…
(Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man!)
Giving all you can to revolutionizing the art of “cutting rug”, you define logic, reason, and at times gravity with your sophisticated moves on the parquet.
(Was that the electric shuffle?)
No floor is safe from your gyrations, swinging hips, or bumpin turd cutter…That is every floor except the one you will ineveitably pass out on from excess drinking later on this morning…
(He’s such a boozehound!)
Agressively pursuing ladies with a drink in one hand and wait…a drink in the other hand, you shout out lines to 90’s dance hits that the underage girls that snuck into Maggie’s either do not remember or never even heard of…
(Play Miley Cyrus!)
Green Room, Peabodies, even the parked car in front of the YMCA on the walk home; the world is your dance floor, and the beat is the sound of you falling on your face, drunker than the night before…
(Where is my apartment?!?!)
So crack open an ice cold brew oh “Royalty of the Rug”. Because without a good tune, you just seem to lose that love and feeling…
(Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man!)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man…
(Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man!)
Giving all you can to revolutionizing the art of “cutting rug”, you define logic, reason, and at times gravity with your sophisticated moves on the parquet.
(Was that the electric shuffle?)
No floor is safe from your gyrations, swinging hips, or bumpin turd cutter…That is every floor except the one you will ineveitably pass out on from excess drinking later on this morning…
(He’s such a boozehound!)
Agressively pursuing ladies with a drink in one hand and wait…a drink in the other hand, you shout out lines to 90’s dance hits that the underage girls that snuck into Maggie’s either do not remember or never even heard of…
(Play Miley Cyrus!)
Green Room, Peabodies, even the parked car in front of the YMCA on the walk home; the world is your dance floor, and the beat is the sound of you falling on your face, drunker than the night before…
(Where is my apartment?!?!)
So crack open an ice cold brew oh “Royalty of the Rug”. Because without a good tune, you just seem to lose that love and feeling…
(Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man!)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch
"Eye" Will Survive
“Eye Will Survive”
(sung to the song “I Will Survive”)
First Randy bet,
Then he doubled down.
Kept thinking why gamble when there’s boozing all around.
But then he spent so many nights playing crazy games of poker.
And he grew broke, But that’s just being a man named Lozier!
And now he’s back.
Yellin at that rack!
But don’t be confused, if you thought it,
was you he was going to attack.
You see this man has many talents,
He’ll tell you that all on his own.
But his biggest claim to fame,
is an “EYE” that stands alone.
Go on now look!
Don’t be afraid!
Cuz whether you’re here or there,
Randy can see you any way!
You see this eye can keep two chicks at bay,
while booking cruises by the day.
And while Randy could be feeling low,
His eye just has that certain glow!
Oh no not that EYE!
EYE will survive
Oh as long as it knows how to stare
it will keep us coming by…
It’s got all its looks to give
and it’s locking on both Matt and Mikey Rivs
And that “EYE” just will surviveThat “EYE” will survive
Hey! Hey!
(INSTRUMENTAL)
It took all of Lozier’s strength,
to ignore the crowd.
You know, he can see with the same right eye
the people all around.
And he’s spent oh so many nights
on the courts of the C.V.A.C.
But it’s that scary double vision,
that makes him best in the North Country!
And of course you'll see him out
eating tons of food…
Cuz Randy eats at chain link restauraunts
and to waitresses acts rude
And when he feels all kinds of angry
At Yashur and Stamford “B”
His venom comes out raging
in the form of touching the button on Luther’s belly!
Go on now! GO!
Walk out the door
Cuz the story of Randy Lozier
Cannot be told here anymore
He’s the one who tried to use a credit card
Did you think he’d charge it?
What would you expect him next to buy?
Who knows?
Not me, with that great big beautiful EYE!
Oh no not that EYE!
EYE will survive
Oh as long as it knows how to stare
it will keep us coming by…
It’s got all its looks to give
and it’s locking on both Matt and Mikey Rivs
And that “EYE” just will survive
That “EYE” will survive
Hey! Hey!
Once you POP, you can't stop!
Submitted by Aspiring song-writer and American Idol Fan
Stamford Branch - Boston Office
(sung to the song “I Will Survive”)
First Randy bet,
Then he doubled down.
Kept thinking why gamble when there’s boozing all around.
But then he spent so many nights playing crazy games of poker.
And he grew broke, But that’s just being a man named Lozier!
And now he’s back.
Yellin at that rack!
But don’t be confused, if you thought it,
was you he was going to attack.
You see this man has many talents,
He’ll tell you that all on his own.
But his biggest claim to fame,
is an “EYE” that stands alone.
Go on now look!
Don’t be afraid!
Cuz whether you’re here or there,
Randy can see you any way!
You see this eye can keep two chicks at bay,
while booking cruises by the day.
And while Randy could be feeling low,
His eye just has that certain glow!
Oh no not that EYE!
EYE will survive
Oh as long as it knows how to stare
it will keep us coming by…
It’s got all its looks to give
and it’s locking on both Matt and Mikey Rivs
And that “EYE” just will surviveThat “EYE” will survive
Hey! Hey!
(INSTRUMENTAL)
It took all of Lozier’s strength,
to ignore the crowd.
You know, he can see with the same right eye
the people all around.
And he’s spent oh so many nights
on the courts of the C.V.A.C.
But it’s that scary double vision,
that makes him best in the North Country!
And of course you'll see him out
eating tons of food…
Cuz Randy eats at chain link restauraunts
and to waitresses acts rude
And when he feels all kinds of angry
At Yashur and Stamford “B”
His venom comes out raging
in the form of touching the button on Luther’s belly!
Go on now! GO!
Walk out the door
Cuz the story of Randy Lozier
Cannot be told here anymore
He’s the one who tried to use a credit card
Did you think he’d charge it?
What would you expect him next to buy?
Who knows?
Not me, with that great big beautiful EYE!
Oh no not that EYE!
EYE will survive
Oh as long as it knows how to stare
it will keep us coming by…
It’s got all its looks to give
and it’s locking on both Matt and Mikey Rivs
And that “EYE” just will survive
That “EYE” will survive
Hey! Hey!
Once you POP, you can't stop!
Submitted by Aspiring song-writer and American Idol Fan
Stamford Branch - Boston Office
2014
2014: AN UNPREDICTED FUTURE
Plattsburgh , NY (AP): It’s June 18, 2014, and nobody is what they were five years ago. Everyone must have taken a different path down the road, which led in a completely opposite direction of the path that had been previously chosen. It reminds me of that Seinfeld where Elaine meets new friends, and they’re the complete antithesis of Jerry, George, and Kramer…and even Newman.
Well to start, Yashur Al Fuqer has now been sober for eleven months. Nobody saw that coming. The other day I called him to see if he wanted to go to the new and improved Legends to watch the Yankees play the Royals and get some wings or pizza. The waitress asked if we wanted to start with drinks, so I got a nice cold Coors Light, and Yash ordered a V8, which really struck me funny. I figured he had a flask in his back pocket and was going to throw some Vodka in there or something, but no, he sat there quietly and drank his V8 through his straw. It was not the Yashur I remember from five years ago.
After the game I drove by the Bailey Avenue playground to see if I could find Luther, but he wasn’t there. I called him, and asked what he was up to. He said he was at Fenway Park watching the Sox play. I guess “Tonya,” who lives in Boston , really had a major effect on him. Just to check, I asked if he was rooting against them, but he said no, he was even wearing an old school Ortiz jersey. That didn’t sound like Luther, so I asked him to send me a pic of himself pointing up, giving the #1 sign. He did just that, but again, it wasn’t what I was expecting. His little fore-finger looked like a stub compared to what it used to. Boy, how the times have changed.
So the next day I called Stamford Branch to hang out. We decided to meet up at the local high school girls’ soccer game. He had with him a can of Stax, and a wife beater on. Under that beater were Feldmore-type pecks, smooth and shiny like glass. There wasn’t a single hair busting out of that top. I asked him what he’s been up to and he said he’s taking square-dancing classes. He said that he had his chest hair removed permanently by laser because he’s a swimmer now, and he’s dating the lifeguard. It struck me a bit funny because Stam was the one who used to work at the Y and was in charge of the events, and now he’s the participant. The lifeguard, whom we’ll call “Olive,” has changed him into a romantic, as they slow dance and share a glass of wine every night. The old Stamford would be drinking awful Appleton Rum and violently thrusting his hips.
After we parted ways, I saw Rufus Feldmore sitting down outside the gym, eating an ice cream cone. I stopped and talked with him. He said his wife was inside running on the treadmill and lifting weights. He said he wasn’t into that anymore, and just sat pleasantly outside waiting for her. I asked him how married life was going, and he said it was perfect…just what he always wanted. Just to clear things up, I asked him if he had any sweet pick up lines. He didn’t, as he thinks they’re childish and would be ashamed if I actually wanted to hear one. He said he’s been married for three years, and he treats her very well, as she does him, and they’re both highly against politics. And to top it off, his wife hates milk. Is this the SAME Rufus Feldmore I used to know?
Well anyway, we said our “byes,” and I stopped by Dominoes on my way home. As I left, I saw Carrie Oakey across the street at Subway. I ran over to say hi, and how I would expect to find her at Dominoes or Pizza Hut, but she informed me that she gave up pizza last year, and eats strictly healthy now…no more chicken fingers, no more Wendy’s, and no more pizza. And despite that, Carrie used to be a little cutie! Now she’s all goth, died her hair black, and has a ring through the center of her nose. However, she’s extremely kind, even to people who make her mad like that guy who slammed the door in her face as we walked in. She just said to me, “Wow, he must be having a bad day.” The Carrie that I used to know would have flipped out and spoke her mind, but this new Carrie is so different. I don’t like it.
In fact, I don’t like any of it. I want Yash to be an alcoholic again. I want Luther to like the Yankees and have his big finger back. I want Stamford to switch back from Stax to Pringles, and to shake his hips to Shakira, and go to back to sh!tty Rum. I want him to become the teacher he used to be. And Rufus. I wish he was jacked again, and still played hockey and worked out and ate healthy. I don’t want him to sit and eat ice cream while his wife works out. And WIFE?!?!?!? WTF? He used to get five or six girls a weekend, and now he’s stuck to one? I hate it. She doesn’t even drink ephing milk. And I want Carrie to be cute again. I want her to enjoy pizza and chicken fingers, and eat at Wendy’s at least once a week. I want her to say sly, sarcastic remarks when someone walks all over her.
As for me. I’m sick of dressing up. I hate ties, and more importantly, I hate pleated pants. I want my sweatpants back. And why is there a stupid song called “Call On You?” I want “Call On Me” back so I can fly in the wind. And most of all, I want to be able to eat candy necklaces again. Why can’t we all just go back to our old ways.
People always say to treasure your time while you can, but no one really listens. Well whoever is reading this, listen up. The future may be great, but that’s a gamble. Enjoy your time now with your friends as they are, cuz in five year, who knows, they could become boring losers like mine did.
I wish it was 2009 again.
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
CEO
Plattsburgh , NY (AP): It’s June 18, 2014, and nobody is what they were five years ago. Everyone must have taken a different path down the road, which led in a completely opposite direction of the path that had been previously chosen. It reminds me of that Seinfeld where Elaine meets new friends, and they’re the complete antithesis of Jerry, George, and Kramer…and even Newman.
Well to start, Yashur Al Fuqer has now been sober for eleven months. Nobody saw that coming. The other day I called him to see if he wanted to go to the new and improved Legends to watch the Yankees play the Royals and get some wings or pizza. The waitress asked if we wanted to start with drinks, so I got a nice cold Coors Light, and Yash ordered a V8, which really struck me funny. I figured he had a flask in his back pocket and was going to throw some Vodka in there or something, but no, he sat there quietly and drank his V8 through his straw. It was not the Yashur I remember from five years ago.
After the game I drove by the Bailey Avenue playground to see if I could find Luther, but he wasn’t there. I called him, and asked what he was up to. He said he was at Fenway Park watching the Sox play. I guess “Tonya,” who lives in Boston , really had a major effect on him. Just to check, I asked if he was rooting against them, but he said no, he was even wearing an old school Ortiz jersey. That didn’t sound like Luther, so I asked him to send me a pic of himself pointing up, giving the #1 sign. He did just that, but again, it wasn’t what I was expecting. His little fore-finger looked like a stub compared to what it used to. Boy, how the times have changed.
So the next day I called Stamford Branch to hang out. We decided to meet up at the local high school girls’ soccer game. He had with him a can of Stax, and a wife beater on. Under that beater were Feldmore-type pecks, smooth and shiny like glass. There wasn’t a single hair busting out of that top. I asked him what he’s been up to and he said he’s taking square-dancing classes. He said that he had his chest hair removed permanently by laser because he’s a swimmer now, and he’s dating the lifeguard. It struck me a bit funny because Stam was the one who used to work at the Y and was in charge of the events, and now he’s the participant. The lifeguard, whom we’ll call “Olive,” has changed him into a romantic, as they slow dance and share a glass of wine every night. The old Stamford would be drinking awful Appleton Rum and violently thrusting his hips.
After we parted ways, I saw Rufus Feldmore sitting down outside the gym, eating an ice cream cone. I stopped and talked with him. He said his wife was inside running on the treadmill and lifting weights. He said he wasn’t into that anymore, and just sat pleasantly outside waiting for her. I asked him how married life was going, and he said it was perfect…just what he always wanted. Just to clear things up, I asked him if he had any sweet pick up lines. He didn’t, as he thinks they’re childish and would be ashamed if I actually wanted to hear one. He said he’s been married for three years, and he treats her very well, as she does him, and they’re both highly against politics. And to top it off, his wife hates milk. Is this the SAME Rufus Feldmore I used to know?
Well anyway, we said our “byes,” and I stopped by Dominoes on my way home. As I left, I saw Carrie Oakey across the street at Subway. I ran over to say hi, and how I would expect to find her at Dominoes or Pizza Hut, but she informed me that she gave up pizza last year, and eats strictly healthy now…no more chicken fingers, no more Wendy’s, and no more pizza. And despite that, Carrie used to be a little cutie! Now she’s all goth, died her hair black, and has a ring through the center of her nose. However, she’s extremely kind, even to people who make her mad like that guy who slammed the door in her face as we walked in. She just said to me, “Wow, he must be having a bad day.” The Carrie that I used to know would have flipped out and spoke her mind, but this new Carrie is so different. I don’t like it.
In fact, I don’t like any of it. I want Yash to be an alcoholic again. I want Luther to like the Yankees and have his big finger back. I want Stamford to switch back from Stax to Pringles, and to shake his hips to Shakira, and go to back to sh!tty Rum. I want him to become the teacher he used to be. And Rufus. I wish he was jacked again, and still played hockey and worked out and ate healthy. I don’t want him to sit and eat ice cream while his wife works out. And WIFE?!?!?!? WTF? He used to get five or six girls a weekend, and now he’s stuck to one? I hate it. She doesn’t even drink ephing milk. And I want Carrie to be cute again. I want her to enjoy pizza and chicken fingers, and eat at Wendy’s at least once a week. I want her to say sly, sarcastic remarks when someone walks all over her.
As for me. I’m sick of dressing up. I hate ties, and more importantly, I hate pleated pants. I want my sweatpants back. And why is there a stupid song called “Call On You?” I want “Call On Me” back so I can fly in the wind. And most of all, I want to be able to eat candy necklaces again. Why can’t we all just go back to our old ways.
People always say to treasure your time while you can, but no one really listens. Well whoever is reading this, listen up. The future may be great, but that’s a gamble. Enjoy your time now with your friends as they are, cuz in five year, who knows, they could become boring losers like mine did.
I wish it was 2009 again.
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
CEO
Spinoffs
"The Sanderson Spotlight"
Spin offs. What would MTV and VH1 be without them? Nothing. They take Laguna Beach and you get the Hills; from the Hills you get the City and Bromance. Bromance, I've never seen such a horrid piece of trash since that time I hooked up with Barb Maille during my "experimental" years in college. Hey, those liberal art schools get crazy!
On VH1 you get Flavor of Love, into I Love New York, into now a Real Chance At Love which features two gang-busting thugs (who probably can't spell "gang" or "busting" or "thug" or even "MTV") and girls pretending that they actually are interested in these shallow wanna-be street runners. Truth be told, they couldn't survive 5 minutes in Compton because they're too naive and would probably get jacked up on the St. Peter's playground by the likes of Peter Alban or Joel Siskavich.
Although these spin off television shows get irritating quick, they all serve the same purpose as Courtney Pecore on the corner late at night: They're money grabbing hoes.
Due to the recent downturn on the economic status of our country, the Sanderson Times had to resort to some advertising paid for by other companies and trying to create ideas to make an influx of cash into the company. Our "genius" CEO, Otis T. Sanderson, thought of a spin off of American Idol. As you can tell, I tend to hate such contrived and vapid ideas as it would take the IQ of a baby orangatang to create such a moronic thought. However, with the country slowly being flushed down the toilet quicker than George Bush's reputation during Hurricane Katrina, we had to do something. We agreed on creating The Sanderson Spotlight.
We took a certain number of applicants who thought they were talented musicians and singers. We took them before the judges who were comprised of myself (as Simon due to the bitter disdain for most uninteresting and untalented people), Stamford Branch (as Kara for always looking for the best in people and being nice), Yashur Al Faqur (as Pauala for always being so out of it with drugs and drinks that half the time you have no idea what they're talking about or listening to), and Luther Brewster (as Randy for pointing a gigantic finger yelling "YOU'RE GOING TO HOLLYWOOD DOG!" and "THAT WAS SO HOT, BLAZING SIZZLING HOT DAWG!"), while Rufus Feldmore took the Ryan Seacrest role and Otis was the CEO and creator.
We were all a little hesitant at first, we didn't know what the turn out would be and how will it would go over. On the first day, we showed up with thousands of fans waiting outside, all waiting for their chance. This was inspiring, and a very positive moment for our company. I say "moment" because as soon as the first applicant came in our hopes were crushed worse than a Cheeto stepped on by Jordan Maille. It was awful, putrid, a pathetic attempt at life. I'm pretty sure a few of the people went home to take their own lives due to the lashing we gave them, except for Stamford Branch who always seemed to enjoy each singer praising them telling them how good of a person they are. Really? I don't care if they're nice. This isn't a nice competition. This is a singing show. If they can't sing, I could care less than a priest getting a knob-job in the "confessional." Seriously, you must have enormous stones to fornicate not only in a Church, but in a confessional.
However, our show was cancelled after only two recordings for several reasons. First off, Rufus Feldmore kept hitting on all of the girls. He ended up hooking up with a lady while her 18 year old daughter was singing for the judges, and when the girl was rejected and came out crying, Rufus comforted her, then hooked up with her also. Finally, one of the mother's complained to Otis, who he frankly told to "eph" off and asked the obvious question of, "Why do we think we hired him? For his charming personality? No, because he's gorgeous."
Also, myself, Carrie Oakey, was disciplined by Otis time and time again because apparantley I am "too rough" on the contestants. Rough he says? Rough is getting @$$ Ephed then having to ride your bike home.
Another reason our show was cancelled so quickly had to do with Yash's awful vices. He has more drinks in a day than Chris Farley had nose bleeds. Constantly we had to tell him that he couldn't drink in front of the contestants, and that he couldn't belch while their audition was taking place. And when he got bored, he decided it was acceptable to "back it up" on contestants, even the nice 16 year old girl who was singing "God Bless America" he got up and bent over right in front of her. She exited the room crying. Strange story, is that this is the same girl Rufus "comforted" after she got outside.
Lastly, we had to cancel the show because we lost even more money due to Luther's large extremity. When we finally had a good singer, he became WAY too jovious and yelled and jumped up and said, "YOU'RE GOING TO HOLLYWOOD DAWG" and when he pointed, he poked the poor guy right in the eye. He ended up suing the company, gaining a ton of money, and using it all to go on vacations and gamble. Luther's damn finger cost us more money than Otis has spent on sweatpants and cutoffs.
When I went to interview the contestant who was poked in the eye, Randy Lozier, it now made sense to me why he could never look me straight in the eye. But he sure was excited for his upcoming 4 vacations that he supports himself with on only reffing....we now know where the funds came from. Thanks Luther, thanks a lot.
My Heart Will Go On,
Carrie Oakey
Spin offs. What would MTV and VH1 be without them? Nothing. They take Laguna Beach and you get the Hills; from the Hills you get the City and Bromance. Bromance, I've never seen such a horrid piece of trash since that time I hooked up with Barb Maille during my "experimental" years in college. Hey, those liberal art schools get crazy!
On VH1 you get Flavor of Love, into I Love New York, into now a Real Chance At Love which features two gang-busting thugs (who probably can't spell "gang" or "busting" or "thug" or even "MTV") and girls pretending that they actually are interested in these shallow wanna-be street runners. Truth be told, they couldn't survive 5 minutes in Compton because they're too naive and would probably get jacked up on the St. Peter's playground by the likes of Peter Alban or Joel Siskavich.
Although these spin off television shows get irritating quick, they all serve the same purpose as Courtney Pecore on the corner late at night: They're money grabbing hoes.
Due to the recent downturn on the economic status of our country, the Sanderson Times had to resort to some advertising paid for by other companies and trying to create ideas to make an influx of cash into the company. Our "genius" CEO, Otis T. Sanderson, thought of a spin off of American Idol. As you can tell, I tend to hate such contrived and vapid ideas as it would take the IQ of a baby orangatang to create such a moronic thought. However, with the country slowly being flushed down the toilet quicker than George Bush's reputation during Hurricane Katrina, we had to do something. We agreed on creating The Sanderson Spotlight.
We took a certain number of applicants who thought they were talented musicians and singers. We took them before the judges who were comprised of myself (as Simon due to the bitter disdain for most uninteresting and untalented people), Stamford Branch (as Kara for always looking for the best in people and being nice), Yashur Al Faqur (as Pauala for always being so out of it with drugs and drinks that half the time you have no idea what they're talking about or listening to), and Luther Brewster (as Randy for pointing a gigantic finger yelling "YOU'RE GOING TO HOLLYWOOD DOG!" and "THAT WAS SO HOT, BLAZING SIZZLING HOT DAWG!"), while Rufus Feldmore took the Ryan Seacrest role and Otis was the CEO and creator.
We were all a little hesitant at first, we didn't know what the turn out would be and how will it would go over. On the first day, we showed up with thousands of fans waiting outside, all waiting for their chance. This was inspiring, and a very positive moment for our company. I say "moment" because as soon as the first applicant came in our hopes were crushed worse than a Cheeto stepped on by Jordan Maille. It was awful, putrid, a pathetic attempt at life. I'm pretty sure a few of the people went home to take their own lives due to the lashing we gave them, except for Stamford Branch who always seemed to enjoy each singer praising them telling them how good of a person they are. Really? I don't care if they're nice. This isn't a nice competition. This is a singing show. If they can't sing, I could care less than a priest getting a knob-job in the "confessional." Seriously, you must have enormous stones to fornicate not only in a Church, but in a confessional.
However, our show was cancelled after only two recordings for several reasons. First off, Rufus Feldmore kept hitting on all of the girls. He ended up hooking up with a lady while her 18 year old daughter was singing for the judges, and when the girl was rejected and came out crying, Rufus comforted her, then hooked up with her also. Finally, one of the mother's complained to Otis, who he frankly told to "eph" off and asked the obvious question of, "Why do we think we hired him? For his charming personality? No, because he's gorgeous."
Also, myself, Carrie Oakey, was disciplined by Otis time and time again because apparantley I am "too rough" on the contestants. Rough he says? Rough is getting @$$ Ephed then having to ride your bike home.
Another reason our show was cancelled so quickly had to do with Yash's awful vices. He has more drinks in a day than Chris Farley had nose bleeds. Constantly we had to tell him that he couldn't drink in front of the contestants, and that he couldn't belch while their audition was taking place. And when he got bored, he decided it was acceptable to "back it up" on contestants, even the nice 16 year old girl who was singing "God Bless America" he got up and bent over right in front of her. She exited the room crying. Strange story, is that this is the same girl Rufus "comforted" after she got outside.
Lastly, we had to cancel the show because we lost even more money due to Luther's large extremity. When we finally had a good singer, he became WAY too jovious and yelled and jumped up and said, "YOU'RE GOING TO HOLLYWOOD DAWG" and when he pointed, he poked the poor guy right in the eye. He ended up suing the company, gaining a ton of money, and using it all to go on vacations and gamble. Luther's damn finger cost us more money than Otis has spent on sweatpants and cutoffs.
When I went to interview the contestant who was poked in the eye, Randy Lozier, it now made sense to me why he could never look me straight in the eye. But he sure was excited for his upcoming 4 vacations that he supports himself with on only reffing....we now know where the funds came from. Thanks Luther, thanks a lot.
My Heart Will Go On,
Carrie Oakey
Mr. Horny Pick-up Line Artist Guy
Sanderson Times presents…
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. Horny Pick-up Line Artist Guy…
(Mr. Horny Pick-up Line Artist Guy!)
Traveling all over the Northeast, your wow women with great lines such as, “Can I buy you a drink?” “What perfume is that?” and of course, “Want to go back to your place for some hot sweaty lovin’?”
(Body of a Greek God!)
With a musk resembling cow dung, you draw ladies in with your manly hunkiness and your ever so witty charm. Charm, that can only be describes as…large!
(Oh yes its massive!)
Impressing women is no challenge for you, because you are a legendary athlete with the skills to match immortal athletes; not just on the playing field…but in the sack as well!
(He’s got magic bed sheets!)
You never shy away from the challenge of finding a young vixen…Blonde, brunette, red-head; it does not matter…Because you have the ultimate aphrodisiac…the gift of gab!
(He’s quite the wordsman!)
So crack open an ice cold one oh “Stalker of the Snatch”. Because wherever there are ladies around, there too will be you at the end of the night…to throw them into a snow bank…
(Mr. Horny Pick-up Line Artist Guy!)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. Horny Pick-up Line Artist Guy…
(Mr. Horny Pick-up Line Artist Guy!)
Traveling all over the Northeast, your wow women with great lines such as, “Can I buy you a drink?” “What perfume is that?” and of course, “Want to go back to your place for some hot sweaty lovin’?”
(Body of a Greek God!)
With a musk resembling cow dung, you draw ladies in with your manly hunkiness and your ever so witty charm. Charm, that can only be describes as…large!
(Oh yes its massive!)
Impressing women is no challenge for you, because you are a legendary athlete with the skills to match immortal athletes; not just on the playing field…but in the sack as well!
(He’s got magic bed sheets!)
You never shy away from the challenge of finding a young vixen…Blonde, brunette, red-head; it does not matter…Because you have the ultimate aphrodisiac…the gift of gab!
(He’s quite the wordsman!)
So crack open an ice cold one oh “Stalker of the Snatch”. Because wherever there are ladies around, there too will be you at the end of the night…to throw them into a snow bank…
(Mr. Horny Pick-up Line Artist Guy!)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch
Mr. Really Creepy Dude at the Bar Guy
Sander son Times presents…
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. Really Creepy Dude at the Bar Guy…
(Mr. Really Creepy Dude at the Bar Guy!)
Having an uncanny ability to c-block friends from picking up would be conquests, you take the art to new heights, by showing girls your right index finger and saying “Hey! Bet this isn’t the only thing I have that’s 9 inches…
(What else could it be?!?!)
While most friends would live by the saying, “Bros before Hos”…You live by the saying, “My friend is talking to this girl, so I guess I should interrupt and completely ruin any chance anyone has of scoring with her!”
(No time to Muster!)
“What’s that?” you ask. You just bought a pretty girl and her friends jello shots? Forget that; let’s go to another bar even though you just wasted 26 dollars…
But honey, if you want to call me, I’ll be around…”
(No care for Stamford!)
A stud of all trades. You impress women with your ability to change juke box songs from long distances with your enormous “extremity”, all while drinking the cheapest beer you can find…
(I’ll have a Genny!)
So crack open an ice cold one oh “Creeper of the Coot”. Because while others have to work for their dates, you just steal yours when no one is looking…
(Mr. Really Creepy Dude at the Bar Guy!)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. Really Creepy Dude at the Bar Guy…
(Mr. Really Creepy Dude at the Bar Guy!)
Having an uncanny ability to c-block friends from picking up would be conquests, you take the art to new heights, by showing girls your right index finger and saying “Hey! Bet this isn’t the only thing I have that’s 9 inches…
(What else could it be?!?!)
While most friends would live by the saying, “Bros before Hos”…You live by the saying, “My friend is talking to this girl, so I guess I should interrupt and completely ruin any chance anyone has of scoring with her!”
(No time to Muster!)
“What’s that?” you ask. You just bought a pretty girl and her friends jello shots? Forget that; let’s go to another bar even though you just wasted 26 dollars…
But honey, if you want to call me, I’ll be around…”
(No care for Stamford!)
A stud of all trades. You impress women with your ability to change juke box songs from long distances with your enormous “extremity”, all while drinking the cheapest beer you can find…
(I’ll have a Genny!)
So crack open an ice cold one oh “Creeper of the Coot”. Because while others have to work for their dates, you just steal yours when no one is looking…
(Mr. Really Creepy Dude at the Bar Guy!)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch
WHAT'S BREW GOT TO DO WITH IT
WHAT’S BREW GOT TO DO WITH IT
(Sing to the tune of “What’s Love Got To Do With It”)
You must understand
Yashur loves to kegstand
Makes his pulse react
That it’s quite a nice thrill
Of drinking until
Getting’ laid in the sack
It’s physical
Only logical
You must try to drink more
Til you fall to the floor
[Chorus]
Oh what’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
What’s Brew, than a magical love potion
What’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
Yash needs a Brew
Cuz the drunk must be woken
Yash likes to drink Brew
And his friends being used
For their Genesee
He may tend to look dazed
He’s been drinking for days
Jack and Hennessee
There’s a name for it
He’s called an alcoholic
But whatever the reason
He’ll drink til thirty
[Chorus]
Oh what’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
What’s Brew, than a magical love potion
What’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
Yash needs a Brew
Cuz the drunk must be woken
He’s been drinking, can’t get an erection
Still he drinks all day
He’s been drinking, never needs his protection
Girls are better off this way
What’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
What’s Brew but a sweet old loving potion
What’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
Who needs a cig when a cig is for smokin
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
(Sing to the tune of “What’s Love Got To Do With It”)
You must understand
Yashur loves to kegstand
Makes his pulse react
That it’s quite a nice thrill
Of drinking until
Getting’ laid in the sack
It’s physical
Only logical
You must try to drink more
Til you fall to the floor
[Chorus]
Oh what’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
What’s Brew, than a magical love potion
What’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
Yash needs a Brew
Cuz the drunk must be woken
Yash likes to drink Brew
And his friends being used
For their Genesee
He may tend to look dazed
He’s been drinking for days
Jack and Hennessee
There’s a name for it
He’s called an alcoholic
But whatever the reason
He’ll drink til thirty
[Chorus]
Oh what’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
What’s Brew, than a magical love potion
What’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
Yash needs a Brew
Cuz the drunk must be woken
He’s been drinking, can’t get an erection
Still he drinks all day
He’s been drinking, never needs his protection
Girls are better off this way
What’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
What’s Brew but a sweet old loving potion
What’s Brew got to do, got to do with it
Who needs a cig when a cig is for smokin
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
IDOL SOUP
Idol Soup: Your source for Idol gossip!
Associated Press
January 14, 2009
Last night the 2009 season of American Idol premiered on Fox with not only a new set of finalists, but also a new idol judge, singer Kara DioGuardi. Fans will be greeted with three weeks of auditions featuring tryouts held in East Rutherford, NJ, Jacksonville, FL, Kansas City, MO, Louisville, KY, Phoenix, AZ, Salt Lake City, UT, San Francisco, CA and San Juan, Puerto Rico.
From there the 2009 Idol season will continue as follows:
Top 36 Semi-Finalists Revealed Wednesday, February 11.
Voting Begins Tuesday, February 17.
Top 12 Singers Revealed After Judges’ Wild Card Round Thursday, March 5.
Top 12 Finalists Perform for First Time Tuesday, March 10.
As always the first show kicked off with a look back at last years winner and how "unsuccessful" he is now....sorry Dave Cook, hated you. On the otherhand, I'm not afraid to admit it, David Archuleta's (2nd place) song "Crush" gets me singing in the shower everytime....I dig it. Now, for the most important part of this review, let's look at who made an impression on me and what I think their future holds on idol.
First, and obviously, that bikini girl. For those of you who don't know, her name was Katrina Darrell, and was a 20 year old model from California. Let's face it, she was a dumpster whore.....Seacrest made the right move not to make out with her for publicity reasons and to prevent future makeout sessions with the less attractive females (I saw a lot of them). More importantly, he should not have made out with her because he probably would have gotten herpes of the mouth. WHAT KIND OF PERSON WEARS A BIKINI TO THE INTERVIEW, get over yourself honey....you had a flat ass and no boobs - I now know why you've attempted to switch careers from modeling to singing, oh wait, no I don't you suck at both! I can't wait to see what the whore wears in Hollywood and DEF. CAN'T WAIT til she get's tossed off. I am not sure what her future holds. She is tough, the guys like her because she looks descent, the girls hate her. They will probably snap out of reality in round 1 and realize she sucks and not move her on for the "joke". Even if they do, America is going to give her the boot immediately. Do me proud America! (I pray she doesn't pimp this article and get calls from modeling companies-I want her to fail miserably in everything she does)
Second, the blind guy. Unfortunately, he is going to get the pity vote. I thought he did ok, not great and we all know that you have to be great to make it on this show. I think pity helped push him onto Hollywood. As I am sure many others out there will agree, I remember seeing the legendary Chris Daughtry in his first audition and I knew that the kid had it. If I were the blind kid I would get some serious lessons in the meantime, because don't get me wrong, he has potential, but not enough true talent to get passed round 1. Unless ofcourse he pulls out a Ray Charles or Stevie Wonder impression, song - piano included. We all saw him playing the damn thing in his interview so it's possible! If he could pull that off, which I think he is more than capable of doing, then he will def. get the pity vote and move well into rounds two or three before getting the boot.
I liked the little mexicana girl who had bad hair, (long & black with serious bangs - we're not in the 90's anymore kid) 16 years old with kind of a cute face. She sounded like Corinne Bailey Rae at times so I like her odds if she continues to sing her tempo material. She needs def. work though. Her image should clear up in Hollywood. I like to assume those makeup artists will have a fieldday with her and have her looking stunning....look what they did with Carrie Underwood (natural beauty prior to hollywood, fashion model overnight) - Easy Patch.
I think my favorite girl, from what I saw, was the rocker chick with tatoos and pink hair in the beginning. I was about to change the channel, but gave her a chance. You remember her, "she was ditching her band." Can't wait til they find this out haha! She was a pretty good singer. I think she had a lot of range that left her with a repitriore of songs to choose from in later rounds. She has serious potential, probably not a winner, but from the talent I saw in Pheonix, AZ, I thought she did the best.
I know I missed a few auditions here and there, I don't really pay attention to the freaks who audition solely for William Hung fame, but all in all I did catch most of them.And that's your first recap of 2009 American Idol episode 1....let's see what we get tonight.
With love,
Rufus Feldmore
Associate Writer - Sanderson Times
Associated Press
January 14, 2009
Last night the 2009 season of American Idol premiered on Fox with not only a new set of finalists, but also a new idol judge, singer Kara DioGuardi. Fans will be greeted with three weeks of auditions featuring tryouts held in East Rutherford, NJ, Jacksonville, FL, Kansas City, MO, Louisville, KY, Phoenix, AZ, Salt Lake City, UT, San Francisco, CA and San Juan, Puerto Rico.
From there the 2009 Idol season will continue as follows:
Top 36 Semi-Finalists Revealed Wednesday, February 11.
Voting Begins Tuesday, February 17.
Top 12 Singers Revealed After Judges’ Wild Card Round Thursday, March 5.
Top 12 Finalists Perform for First Time Tuesday, March 10.
As always the first show kicked off with a look back at last years winner and how "unsuccessful" he is now....sorry Dave Cook, hated you. On the otherhand, I'm not afraid to admit it, David Archuleta's (2nd place) song "Crush" gets me singing in the shower everytime....I dig it. Now, for the most important part of this review, let's look at who made an impression on me and what I think their future holds on idol.
First, and obviously, that bikini girl. For those of you who don't know, her name was Katrina Darrell, and was a 20 year old model from California. Let's face it, she was a dumpster whore.....Seacrest made the right move not to make out with her for publicity reasons and to prevent future makeout sessions with the less attractive females (I saw a lot of them). More importantly, he should not have made out with her because he probably would have gotten herpes of the mouth. WHAT KIND OF PERSON WEARS A BIKINI TO THE INTERVIEW, get over yourself honey....you had a flat ass and no boobs - I now know why you've attempted to switch careers from modeling to singing, oh wait, no I don't you suck at both! I can't wait to see what the whore wears in Hollywood and DEF. CAN'T WAIT til she get's tossed off. I am not sure what her future holds. She is tough, the guys like her because she looks descent, the girls hate her. They will probably snap out of reality in round 1 and realize she sucks and not move her on for the "joke". Even if they do, America is going to give her the boot immediately. Do me proud America! (I pray she doesn't pimp this article and get calls from modeling companies-I want her to fail miserably in everything she does)
Second, the blind guy. Unfortunately, he is going to get the pity vote. I thought he did ok, not great and we all know that you have to be great to make it on this show. I think pity helped push him onto Hollywood. As I am sure many others out there will agree, I remember seeing the legendary Chris Daughtry in his first audition and I knew that the kid had it. If I were the blind kid I would get some serious lessons in the meantime, because don't get me wrong, he has potential, but not enough true talent to get passed round 1. Unless ofcourse he pulls out a Ray Charles or Stevie Wonder impression, song - piano included. We all saw him playing the damn thing in his interview so it's possible! If he could pull that off, which I think he is more than capable of doing, then he will def. get the pity vote and move well into rounds two or three before getting the boot.
I liked the little mexicana girl who had bad hair, (long & black with serious bangs - we're not in the 90's anymore kid) 16 years old with kind of a cute face. She sounded like Corinne Bailey Rae at times so I like her odds if she continues to sing her tempo material. She needs def. work though. Her image should clear up in Hollywood. I like to assume those makeup artists will have a fieldday with her and have her looking stunning....look what they did with Carrie Underwood (natural beauty prior to hollywood, fashion model overnight) - Easy Patch.
I think my favorite girl, from what I saw, was the rocker chick with tatoos and pink hair in the beginning. I was about to change the channel, but gave her a chance. You remember her, "she was ditching her band." Can't wait til they find this out haha! She was a pretty good singer. I think she had a lot of range that left her with a repitriore of songs to choose from in later rounds. She has serious potential, probably not a winner, but from the talent I saw in Pheonix, AZ, I thought she did the best.
I know I missed a few auditions here and there, I don't really pay attention to the freaks who audition solely for William Hung fame, but all in all I did catch most of them.And that's your first recap of 2009 American Idol episode 1....let's see what we get tonight.
With love,
Rufus Feldmore
Associate Writer - Sanderson Times
Mr Guy Who's Got Really Truthful Hips Guy
Sanderson Times presents…
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. Guy Who’s Got Really Truthful Hips Guy…
(Mr. Guy Who’s Got Really Truthful Hips Guy!)
While many guys are out dancing to Akon and the Beastie Boys, you’re shaking your bod to Shakira. And we can tell you like her, and that’s okay. But how can we tell? Because your hips don’t lie.
(Not even a little fib!)
You push them in, you zing them out. You tuck your arms and bend your elbows, pretending to gently paw at your prey. Why? Because you’re a dinosaur.
(Yeah you do the Dino Dance!)
Are the women scared? A little. But that’s because you’re violently thrusting pelvis this way and that, all because your hips told you that it was the right thing to do, and they’re true to their word.
(Everyone likes an honest hip!)
The girls like how you get right up close. Why? Because when you get excited, they know it just as soon as you do, all because of that anti-lie detector in your trousers.
(You can’t get away with anything!)
So crack open an ice cold one oh “Truthful Teaser in the Trouser Man,” because no girl likes being lied to…and they especially like when you tell the truth behind their back.
(Mr. Guy Who’s Got Really Truthful Hips Guy)
Sanderson Times Inc, Plattsburgh , New York
Gratefully yours, his, hers, mine, theirs, and ours,
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. Guy Who’s Got Really Truthful Hips Guy…
(Mr. Guy Who’s Got Really Truthful Hips Guy!)
While many guys are out dancing to Akon and the Beastie Boys, you’re shaking your bod to Shakira. And we can tell you like her, and that’s okay. But how can we tell? Because your hips don’t lie.
(Not even a little fib!)
You push them in, you zing them out. You tuck your arms and bend your elbows, pretending to gently paw at your prey. Why? Because you’re a dinosaur.
(Yeah you do the Dino Dance!)
Are the women scared? A little. But that’s because you’re violently thrusting pelvis this way and that, all because your hips told you that it was the right thing to do, and they’re true to their word.
(Everyone likes an honest hip!)
The girls like how you get right up close. Why? Because when you get excited, they know it just as soon as you do, all because of that anti-lie detector in your trousers.
(You can’t get away with anything!)
So crack open an ice cold one oh “Truthful Teaser in the Trouser Man,” because no girl likes being lied to…and they especially like when you tell the truth behind their back.
(Mr. Guy Who’s Got Really Truthful Hips Guy)
Sanderson Times Inc, Plattsburgh , New York
Gratefully yours, his, hers, mine, theirs, and ours,
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
Ms. When in Doubt Throw the Fist Pump
Sanderson Times presents…
Real Women of Genius…
Today we salute you…Ms. When in Doubt Throw the Fist Pump…
(Ms. When in Doubt Throw the Fist Pump!)
Promoting the notion that men are not the only ones who can be inventors of great things, you communicate your love of all attractions around you with what else…a closed fist…going up and down
(That’s what she said!)
Classical, jazz, rock, rap, or even the infused reggaeton of one Beenie Man, you announce to the world in one motion, “I am fired up, and you better not be taller than me, or you’re going to get hurt.”
(You gave me a black eye!)
Appearing innocent and cute is just a cover for those around you. For when it’s time for muster practice, you unleash all encompassing rage in a motion not unkind to the greats of today…Like Tiger Woods…
(He’s likes to fist pump too!)
Boozing in the corner with a Red Stripe in tow, your free hand sends a clear and boisterous message. “This is my party, and I’ll throw haymakers if I want to.”
(Look out Mike Tyson!)
So crack open an ice cold brewski oh “Princess of the Punch”. Because while hips and buns say, “Let’s dance” your move says, “Stay clear of me by at least 5 feet.”
(Ms. When in Doubt Throw the Fist Pump!)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch
Real Women of Genius…
Today we salute you…Ms. When in Doubt Throw the Fist Pump…
(Ms. When in Doubt Throw the Fist Pump!)
Promoting the notion that men are not the only ones who can be inventors of great things, you communicate your love of all attractions around you with what else…a closed fist…going up and down
(That’s what she said!)
Classical, jazz, rock, rap, or even the infused reggaeton of one Beenie Man, you announce to the world in one motion, “I am fired up, and you better not be taller than me, or you’re going to get hurt.”
(You gave me a black eye!)
Appearing innocent and cute is just a cover for those around you. For when it’s time for muster practice, you unleash all encompassing rage in a motion not unkind to the greats of today…Like Tiger Woods…
(He’s likes to fist pump too!)
Boozing in the corner with a Red Stripe in tow, your free hand sends a clear and boisterous message. “This is my party, and I’ll throw haymakers if I want to.”
(Look out Mike Tyson!)
So crack open an ice cold brewski oh “Princess of the Punch”. Because while hips and buns say, “Let’s dance” your move says, “Stay clear of me by at least 5 feet.”
(Ms. When in Doubt Throw the Fist Pump!)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch
NO GLOVE
Sanderson Sing-alongs
“NO GLOVE” (Sung to “Your Love” by the Outfield)
Writes on a vacation far away,
You all know we won’t be sober.
So many girls that wanna play,
Otis T. says “Can’t we find some younger?”
Cuz’ I don’t use no latex glove at NIIIGHT,
Stamford told me sometimes cans work rightttt.
Ain’t got many chicks left to talk to,
When creepy Luth comes they take cover.
You know he’d love to put that finger in you,
With his arm around her, she’s in trouble.
Cuz’ I don’t use no latex glove at NIGGGHT, (Wooooaaah!)
Carrie is so cute, I bet she’s tight.
GUITAR SOLO (RUG CUTTING TIME)
Yashur’s hands are really shakin’,
Somethin in his body not makin’ sense,
It’s been a while since he’s had a drink,
Quick, two shots to get him dancin’!
Rufus if your busy close the door,
While you put it to that woman.
Just cuz’ you’re the stud with the busy dong,
I don’t wanna hear it all night long.
You know he wont use no glove TONIGHHHHT,
He knows now to treat his ladies riiiight. (YEEEEEEAAAH!)
Yea I don’t wanna use no glove tonight,
If you get pregnant, down the stairs, a FLIIIGHT…
Cuz’ I don’t use no latex glove at NIIIIGHT,
Unless your name is Pecore then I might…
USE NO GLOOVEEEEE…
USE NO GLOVVVVVEEE…
YEEAAAAAHHH
USE NO GLOOVVVVE…
I DON”T WANNA…
I DON’T WANNA…
USE NO GLOVVVVEE….
USE NO GLOVVVEEE TONIGHT…
(repeat until the end)
Be my lover,
Yashur al Faqur
“NO GLOVE” (Sung to “Your Love” by the Outfield)
Writes on a vacation far away,
You all know we won’t be sober.
So many girls that wanna play,
Otis T. says “Can’t we find some younger?”
Cuz’ I don’t use no latex glove at NIIIGHT,
Stamford told me sometimes cans work rightttt.
Ain’t got many chicks left to talk to,
When creepy Luth comes they take cover.
You know he’d love to put that finger in you,
With his arm around her, she’s in trouble.
Cuz’ I don’t use no latex glove at NIGGGHT, (Wooooaaah!)
Carrie is so cute, I bet she’s tight.
GUITAR SOLO (RUG CUTTING TIME)
Yashur’s hands are really shakin’,
Somethin in his body not makin’ sense,
It’s been a while since he’s had a drink,
Quick, two shots to get him dancin’!
Rufus if your busy close the door,
While you put it to that woman.
Just cuz’ you’re the stud with the busy dong,
I don’t wanna hear it all night long.
You know he wont use no glove TONIGHHHHT,
He knows now to treat his ladies riiiight. (YEEEEEEAAAH!)
Yea I don’t wanna use no glove tonight,
If you get pregnant, down the stairs, a FLIIIGHT…
Cuz’ I don’t use no latex glove at NIIIIGHT,
Unless your name is Pecore then I might…
USE NO GLOOVEEEEE…
USE NO GLOVVVVVEEE…
YEEAAAAAHHH
USE NO GLOOVVVVE…
I DON”T WANNA…
I DON’T WANNA…
USE NO GLOVVVVEE….
USE NO GLOVVVEEE TONIGHT…
(repeat until the end)
Be my lover,
Yashur al Faqur
AMERICAN BOOZEBAG
Sanderson Times
Jan 14, 2009
AMERICAN BOOZEBAG
Plattsburgh , NY (AP): After airing on the Fox network for the past few years, almost all American’s are familiar with the famous and infamous “American Idol.” Many contestants can actually sing, but you also have those who try out just to be funny and try to get on tv. Well this upcoming July, the nation is hosting a spin-off of the popular reality tv show, and this new show will include the country’s top drinkers…American Boozebag. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, misters and misseses of the North Country , get ready to vote for your very own Yashur Al Fuqer.
The show will consist of America’s lowliest dirtbags, drunkards, and you’ll also have your more normal liquid-downers, such as Wade Boggs and fellow classy guys who can go drink for drink with the aforementioned drunkards, and you’ll have your big, bad, tough, macho sorority boys (that’s right, I called them sorority boys), you’ll have your Yashur Al Fuqers, your old Vietnam veterans, and you’ll even have a few women who think they can out-drink their counterparts. But what we’re interested in is the lone Yashur Al Fuqer, who doesn’t fit any of the other drinking classes. “One could say he’s in a class of his own,” comments long time friend Otis T. Sanderson. “He’s not a crappy frat boy, he’s not an old vet, he’s not the town drunk, though many perceive him to be, and he’s not a dirty homeless dirtbag, so he’s just all by himself. That’s the sign of a true champ right there.”
“I’ve been posting flyers all around the Capital District area,” says Rufus Feldmore, fellow drinker of Yashur’s. “I even posted a ‘Vote For Yashur’ sign on the headboard of my bed…so I know a lot of women will see it,” replies the stuck-up Feldmore, that cocky s.o.b.
“Well, I’ve seen the kid in action, and he can certainly drink,” states Luther Brewster. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets to the fifth round…actually, he’s got a really great shot at winning this competition!”
The contest will take place like so. For auditions, each contestant will have to finish a six-pack before performing before the judges, and while it’s his/her turn, she will need to pick a shot out of a hat, finish the shot, and then drink as many brews as he/she can before breaking the seal, vomiting, falling over, or passing out. If that number is greater than 8, he/she goes on to Hollywood .
“We’ve all seen it before. Yash starts out really fast, but can hold his own,” says Stamford Branch, “But then before you know it, he starts backing it up, whether there’s anyone behind him or not. I think that’s the point where it all begins to hit him, and he starts going downhill from there,” laughs the semi-optimistic Branch, as he’s realizing that Yashur’s got a great advantage to making Hollywood, but who knows what’s to come in later rounds.
“If the show involves drinking games, I think Yash will certainly do the North Country proud,” boasts Carrie Oakey, while fist-pumping. “I can’t recall a time, ever, where he didn’t come in first in a drinking game. Whether it’s a race, cards, most beers, longest duration drinking, Mr. Busch’s Drinking game…no matter what game, he always seems to come out on top. He’s going to be the first American Boozebag!”
Who knows, maybe a later round will involve drunk dancing? Maybe there will be Beer Pong? Maybe he’ll have to do drunken karaoke? But whatever is to come, everyone knows who they’re already voting for…and the competition hasn’t even started. Jordan Maille already threw down half a grand on Fuqer, but that doesn’t tell you much.
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
Jan 14, 2009
AMERICAN BOOZEBAG
Plattsburgh , NY (AP): After airing on the Fox network for the past few years, almost all American’s are familiar with the famous and infamous “American Idol.” Many contestants can actually sing, but you also have those who try out just to be funny and try to get on tv. Well this upcoming July, the nation is hosting a spin-off of the popular reality tv show, and this new show will include the country’s top drinkers…American Boozebag. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, misters and misseses of the North Country , get ready to vote for your very own Yashur Al Fuqer.
The show will consist of America’s lowliest dirtbags, drunkards, and you’ll also have your more normal liquid-downers, such as Wade Boggs and fellow classy guys who can go drink for drink with the aforementioned drunkards, and you’ll have your big, bad, tough, macho sorority boys (that’s right, I called them sorority boys), you’ll have your Yashur Al Fuqers, your old Vietnam veterans, and you’ll even have a few women who think they can out-drink their counterparts. But what we’re interested in is the lone Yashur Al Fuqer, who doesn’t fit any of the other drinking classes. “One could say he’s in a class of his own,” comments long time friend Otis T. Sanderson. “He’s not a crappy frat boy, he’s not an old vet, he’s not the town drunk, though many perceive him to be, and he’s not a dirty homeless dirtbag, so he’s just all by himself. That’s the sign of a true champ right there.”
“I’ve been posting flyers all around the Capital District area,” says Rufus Feldmore, fellow drinker of Yashur’s. “I even posted a ‘Vote For Yashur’ sign on the headboard of my bed…so I know a lot of women will see it,” replies the stuck-up Feldmore, that cocky s.o.b.
“Well, I’ve seen the kid in action, and he can certainly drink,” states Luther Brewster. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets to the fifth round…actually, he’s got a really great shot at winning this competition!”
The contest will take place like so. For auditions, each contestant will have to finish a six-pack before performing before the judges, and while it’s his/her turn, she will need to pick a shot out of a hat, finish the shot, and then drink as many brews as he/she can before breaking the seal, vomiting, falling over, or passing out. If that number is greater than 8, he/she goes on to Hollywood .
“We’ve all seen it before. Yash starts out really fast, but can hold his own,” says Stamford Branch, “But then before you know it, he starts backing it up, whether there’s anyone behind him or not. I think that’s the point where it all begins to hit him, and he starts going downhill from there,” laughs the semi-optimistic Branch, as he’s realizing that Yashur’s got a great advantage to making Hollywood, but who knows what’s to come in later rounds.
“If the show involves drinking games, I think Yash will certainly do the North Country proud,” boasts Carrie Oakey, while fist-pumping. “I can’t recall a time, ever, where he didn’t come in first in a drinking game. Whether it’s a race, cards, most beers, longest duration drinking, Mr. Busch’s Drinking game…no matter what game, he always seems to come out on top. He’s going to be the first American Boozebag!”
Who knows, maybe a later round will involve drunk dancing? Maybe there will be Beer Pong? Maybe he’ll have to do drunken karaoke? But whatever is to come, everyone knows who they’re already voting for…and the competition hasn’t even started. Jordan Maille already threw down half a grand on Fuqer, but that doesn’t tell you much.
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
LUTHER'S GOT DAT
LUTHER'S GOT DAT
(sung to Baby Got Back by Sir Mix A Lot)
{Yashur and Otis talking}
Oh my God, Otis, look at his finger,
It is SO long.
He looks like one of those creepy guys at the roller rink.
Who even likes them?
They only talk to him because, well,
He looks like he could satisfy a blue whale with that finger, okay?
I mean, his index, it's just so long.
I can't believe it's just so large, it's like,
So protruding, I mean – gross!
Look! He's just so….creepy!
{Carrie Oakey comes in}
I like long fingers and I can not lie
You other ladies can't deny
When Luther walks in with that finger the size of a car
And he points at your dirt-star
You get wet! Wanna change your lil panties
Cause you notice that finger was lengthy.
Shaky in the knees I get,
Cause the Brewster's makin me wet.
Oh baby, I want that finger,
And let it linger,
My homegirls tried to tell me,
That it'd go so deep it'd make me bleed.
Ohhh, Luther Brewster,
Say you wanna fornicate with me?
Well use me, use me,
Cause you ain't got no STDs.
I've seen it bendin,
Come here and lend me,
That hand, man,
So I can cream like Stam in a can.
I'm tired of other girls,
Saying the fingering don't feel good,
Cause the average girl will say,
It feels great all day.
So ladies, (YEAH!) ladies, (YEAH!)
Has your man got that index? (Hell yeah!)
Tell him to wiggle it! Wiggle it!
Wiggle that long pointer!
Luther's got 'dat!
I like it long, and smooth,
As it touches my coot,
All you ladies should know, that the appetizer,
Is as good as the meal.
I wanna feel that knuckle,
And ugh, farther up, ugh ugh,
I ain't talkin about fistin,
Cause I only do this and kissin.
I want it real long and silky, so don't use that huge double,
This Oakey's in trouble,
Got me moanin and mumblin.
So I'm lookin at it curl like a bow,
Quivering and shakin like whoa,
Luth give me that knuckle,
Quick, my knees may buckle
A word to Rufus and Yashur, don't hate that finga,
Cause it might point and hit ya,
But I gotta be true when I say it hurts,
All night and day long,
Luth's got it going on,
His tip's the size of King Kongs.
Cause Yash is drunk and that's a fact,
So I'll stay and play with Luth,
Cause it's long, and it's strong,
And I ain't talking about his ding dong.
So, fellas (yeah!) fellas (yeah!)
You should envy that long finger, (yeah!)
Cause you aint got, that length,
Even loose hoes got to shout
Luther's got dat!
Yeahhhh, fellas, when it comes to pleasure,
The Brewster's the pro.
So other fellas tryin to see, but they ain't got that long Luth beam,
That long digit that always makes us girls cream,
My shaved-clean-dirt-star don't want that,
Unless it's Luth's large "bat",
Ruf and Oats can dobble,
But their digits ain't got dat,
Stam wanna try to do his role,
But it ain't close to Luth's large pole,
So they leave it, to the Brew,
While the crew gives the news.
So Yash is drunk again,
While Luth makes it bend,
Cause Oats is watchin while Ruf is copping and feeling,
And Carrie is creaming.
To the other news crews in the world,
You ain't it at all.
We're the best, and no less,
We're tight as family nests.
Some others try to mime,
The best Sandy Times,
We're all unique and special,
But Carrie wants a Luth facial.
So everybody, everywhere,
If you want the news delivered,
Dial 1-800-SANDYT
And get the best news team,
Luther's got 'dat.
Please Don't Lose That Butt,
Carrie Oakey
(sung to Baby Got Back by Sir Mix A Lot)
{Yashur and Otis talking}
Oh my God, Otis, look at his finger,
It is SO long.
He looks like one of those creepy guys at the roller rink.
Who even likes them?
They only talk to him because, well,
He looks like he could satisfy a blue whale with that finger, okay?
I mean, his index, it's just so long.
I can't believe it's just so large, it's like,
So protruding, I mean – gross!
Look! He's just so….creepy!
{Carrie Oakey comes in}
I like long fingers and I can not lie
You other ladies can't deny
When Luther walks in with that finger the size of a car
And he points at your dirt-star
You get wet! Wanna change your lil panties
Cause you notice that finger was lengthy.
Shaky in the knees I get,
Cause the Brewster's makin me wet.
Oh baby, I want that finger,
And let it linger,
My homegirls tried to tell me,
That it'd go so deep it'd make me bleed.
Ohhh, Luther Brewster,
Say you wanna fornicate with me?
Well use me, use me,
Cause you ain't got no STDs.
I've seen it bendin,
Come here and lend me,
That hand, man,
So I can cream like Stam in a can.
I'm tired of other girls,
Saying the fingering don't feel good,
Cause the average girl will say,
It feels great all day.
So ladies, (YEAH!) ladies, (YEAH!)
Has your man got that index? (Hell yeah!)
Tell him to wiggle it! Wiggle it!
Wiggle that long pointer!
Luther's got 'dat!
I like it long, and smooth,
As it touches my coot,
All you ladies should know, that the appetizer,
Is as good as the meal.
I wanna feel that knuckle,
And ugh, farther up, ugh ugh,
I ain't talkin about fistin,
Cause I only do this and kissin.
I want it real long and silky, so don't use that huge double,
This Oakey's in trouble,
Got me moanin and mumblin.
So I'm lookin at it curl like a bow,
Quivering and shakin like whoa,
Luth give me that knuckle,
Quick, my knees may buckle
A word to Rufus and Yashur, don't hate that finga,
Cause it might point and hit ya,
But I gotta be true when I say it hurts,
All night and day long,
Luth's got it going on,
His tip's the size of King Kongs.
Cause Yash is drunk and that's a fact,
So I'll stay and play with Luth,
Cause it's long, and it's strong,
And I ain't talking about his ding dong.
So, fellas (yeah!) fellas (yeah!)
You should envy that long finger, (yeah!)
Cause you aint got, that length,
Even loose hoes got to shout
Luther's got dat!
Yeahhhh, fellas, when it comes to pleasure,
The Brewster's the pro.
So other fellas tryin to see, but they ain't got that long Luth beam,
That long digit that always makes us girls cream,
My shaved-clean-dirt-star don't want that,
Unless it's Luth's large "bat",
Ruf and Oats can dobble,
But their digits ain't got dat,
Stam wanna try to do his role,
But it ain't close to Luth's large pole,
So they leave it, to the Brew,
While the crew gives the news.
So Yash is drunk again,
While Luth makes it bend,
Cause Oats is watchin while Ruf is copping and feeling,
And Carrie is creaming.
To the other news crews in the world,
You ain't it at all.
We're the best, and no less,
We're tight as family nests.
Some others try to mime,
The best Sandy Times,
We're all unique and special,
But Carrie wants a Luth facial.
So everybody, everywhere,
If you want the news delivered,
Dial 1-800-SANDYT
And get the best news team,
Luther's got 'dat.
Please Don't Lose That Butt,
Carrie Oakey
Thoughts from Feldmore
Plattsburgh Republican
Associated Press
January 12, 2009
Thoughts from Feldmore
I like to think of myself as a seasoned traveler. While I have never been anywhere really worth bragging about, such as West Chazy, Champlain, Ausable or Plattsburgh, there is one place that continually brings back fond memories. It has been several months since my last visit to Boston, Mass., but one thing remains fresh in my mind, the camaraderie shared between a crew of friends who participated in one of the greatest adventures ever conducted east of the Mississippi.
The intentions of the group were no secret and thus enthusiastically shared among all: let's drink Boston dry.....and they did, and they liked it ... A LOT (Sandlot). On the second night I can even remember two of the friends, Yashur al Faqur and Rufas Feldmore, meeting a pair of lovely Columbian gals. Surprisingly, the evil plot employed by Luther Brewster to steal the girls had failed, primarily due to the fact that he was busy dancing with his girlfriend nearby. The friends drank and danced the night away until it was time for the one and only, al Faqur, to showoff his college education. Did he bring his Undergraduate Diploma to Boston to show off to the ladies you might ask? No, Faqurs are not that savvy by nature. But for those of you who may not be up to speed with me, it was recently proclaimed that Yashur had a double major in college. What was his other major, Math, Business, Political Science? Well, just ask him! I did and with all seriousness he looked at me proudly and assertively announced "Cuttin!". "Heard that", said long time friend Stamford Branch. No one gets frustrated when Yashur starts "cuttin" in the bar. We are not the type of friends who envy another for being more skilled in a certain field than we will ever be. Actually, we are all thankful! We get a free tutorial on how to conduct ourselves civilly on the dance floor, compliments of the educated master himself. You see, those Columbian girls were immediately discarded by Yashur because they lacked proficient dance moves required by a veteran in his trade. DO NOT let this article fool you or lead you to believe that it was Yashur's self-acclaimed, unannounced and unique dancing style that abruptly made the girls move on....because it wasn't! They wanted to dance with him, but simply couldn't, mostly due to the fact that they didn't know how. I guess that is the difference between educated and non-educated. Showing up to the bar to dance is not something that Yashur takes lightly. Does this audience honestly need to be reminded about Yashur's historic background? This kid has spent more time in the upstairs of Peabody's, Green Room and Taboo Night Club honing his skills than Carrie Oakey in a Wendy's drive thru.
Rufus Feldmore
Associate Writer - Sanderson Times
Associated Press
January 12, 2009
Thoughts from Feldmore
I like to think of myself as a seasoned traveler. While I have never been anywhere really worth bragging about, such as West Chazy, Champlain, Ausable or Plattsburgh, there is one place that continually brings back fond memories. It has been several months since my last visit to Boston, Mass., but one thing remains fresh in my mind, the camaraderie shared between a crew of friends who participated in one of the greatest adventures ever conducted east of the Mississippi.
The intentions of the group were no secret and thus enthusiastically shared among all: let's drink Boston dry.....and they did, and they liked it ... A LOT (Sandlot). On the second night I can even remember two of the friends, Yashur al Faqur and Rufas Feldmore, meeting a pair of lovely Columbian gals. Surprisingly, the evil plot employed by Luther Brewster to steal the girls had failed, primarily due to the fact that he was busy dancing with his girlfriend nearby. The friends drank and danced the night away until it was time for the one and only, al Faqur, to showoff his college education. Did he bring his Undergraduate Diploma to Boston to show off to the ladies you might ask? No, Faqurs are not that savvy by nature. But for those of you who may not be up to speed with me, it was recently proclaimed that Yashur had a double major in college. What was his other major, Math, Business, Political Science? Well, just ask him! I did and with all seriousness he looked at me proudly and assertively announced "Cuttin!". "Heard that", said long time friend Stamford Branch. No one gets frustrated when Yashur starts "cuttin" in the bar. We are not the type of friends who envy another for being more skilled in a certain field than we will ever be. Actually, we are all thankful! We get a free tutorial on how to conduct ourselves civilly on the dance floor, compliments of the educated master himself. You see, those Columbian girls were immediately discarded by Yashur because they lacked proficient dance moves required by a veteran in his trade. DO NOT let this article fool you or lead you to believe that it was Yashur's self-acclaimed, unannounced and unique dancing style that abruptly made the girls move on....because it wasn't! They wanted to dance with him, but simply couldn't, mostly due to the fact that they didn't know how. I guess that is the difference between educated and non-educated. Showing up to the bar to dance is not something that Yashur takes lightly. Does this audience honestly need to be reminded about Yashur's historic background? This kid has spent more time in the upstairs of Peabody's, Green Room and Taboo Night Club honing his skills than Carrie Oakey in a Wendy's drive thru.
Rufus Feldmore
Associate Writer - Sanderson Times
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The Alchy Bunch
The Alchy Bunch
(Sung to the theme of The Brady Bunch)
Here’s a story,
Of a drunk named Yashur.
Who was drinking 3 different kinds of brew.
There were also 4 shots,
Put them all together,
And Yashur might just spew…
Here’s a story,
Of a stud named Feldmore.
Who had 3 ladies draped around each arm.
There were blondes,
Brunettes and don’t forget the red-heads.
“Which one of you would like to see my farm?”
Here’s a story,
Of a creeper named Luther
Who was home watching eps. of Gossip Girl.
But when Theresa,
Got a look at creepy long finger,
She wondered what happens when it curls!
Here’s a story,
Of a cutie named Carrie
Whose beer and hair were the same color of red.
But when a boy walked by,
And said he had it hard…
She screamed out, “That’s what she said!”
Here’s a story,
Of a special kid named Otis.
Who has t-shirts of his hero, Ronny P.
But the sweatpants
Are what makes this kid so special,
Especially when he hears, “Call on Me”.
Here's a story...
Of an old man named Stamford.
Who had trouble listening with his hearing aid.
But that wasn't,
his only giant problem...
You see his hair could not be made.
Till the one day
When all these dudes just came together.
And along with all they knew it was no hunch.
That this crew,
Should somehow start to Muster
That’s how they became the Alchy bunch!
The Alchy Bunch!
The Alchy Bunch!
That’s the way, we became the Alchy BUNCH!
Once you POP! You can't stop...
Stamford Branch
(Sung to the theme of The Brady Bunch)
Here’s a story,
Of a drunk named Yashur.
Who was drinking 3 different kinds of brew.
There were also 4 shots,
Put them all together,
And Yashur might just spew…
Here’s a story,
Of a stud named Feldmore.
Who had 3 ladies draped around each arm.
There were blondes,
Brunettes and don’t forget the red-heads.
“Which one of you would like to see my farm?”
Here’s a story,
Of a creeper named Luther
Who was home watching eps. of Gossip Girl.
But when Theresa,
Got a look at creepy long finger,
She wondered what happens when it curls!
Here’s a story,
Of a cutie named Carrie
Whose beer and hair were the same color of red.
But when a boy walked by,
And said he had it hard…
She screamed out, “That’s what she said!”
Here’s a story,
Of a special kid named Otis.
Who has t-shirts of his hero, Ronny P.
But the sweatpants
Are what makes this kid so special,
Especially when he hears, “Call on Me”.
Here's a story...
Of an old man named Stamford.
Who had trouble listening with his hearing aid.
But that wasn't,
his only giant problem...
You see his hair could not be made.
Till the one day
When all these dudes just came together.
And along with all they knew it was no hunch.
That this crew,
Should somehow start to Muster
That’s how they became the Alchy bunch!
The Alchy Bunch!
The Alchy Bunch!
That’s the way, we became the Alchy BUNCH!
Once you POP! You can't stop...
Stamford Branch
Friday, January 9, 2009
FLASHBACK (Week Jan. 4 to Jan 10)
This week 5 years ago:
Seton Catholic senior Carrie Oakey scored two goals to lead her team to a victory in the first indoor soccer game of the year. Unfortunately, due to the lack of a growth spurt, the 5’1”, 96 pound Oakey was mistaken by her own goalie for the ball, and was picked up and punted to a wide open forward. Unfortunately, Oakey did not sustain the bicycle kick from forward Yashur al Faqur, and was immediately taken to the hospital by ambulance. She suffered 4 broken ribs, a slight concussion, and a severe amount of ridicule.
Faqur, mentioned above, was suspended for kicking his own teammate. When asked to leave the field by official Randy Lozier, Faqur slapped him across the face, and stumbled toward the sideline. With a deadly contradiction of Lozier’s “double-vision” and Faqur’s “unsteady” stumble, he appeared to have gotten off the hook until the other official, Barry Norton, threw a red flag and tossed Yashur al Faqur out of the game for drunkenness. When Yahsur argued, Official Norton replied, “Yashur, you were drinking shots in the back of my van on the ride to the game…you’re ejected!”
Seton Catholic senior Rufus Feldmore lead the team to a 5-1 victory with 4 first period goals, and a second period assist. He did not return to the ice for the third quarter as he complained of a “groin injury” to the 22 year old blonde athletic trainer. He was later spotted carrying her under the bleachers, where things got a little wild. He was named Player of the Game, and nicknamed “Hockey Hunk.”
This week, 9 years ago:
Plattsburgh High senior Luther Brewster obliterated 223 pins after 9 frames, but stopped right there because he likes the number 23. The next day, during an early off season Baseball practice in the gym, he broke his right pointer finger after following through on a fastball while doing a bullpen session. His finger is so long that, after release of the ball, in bent backwards on his follow through when it struck the ground in front of him. He was sidelined for 2 months, in which his finger continued to grow.
Brother Otis Sanderson was turning the back end of double plays from shortstop when runner Jordan Maille plowed into him and sent him flying backwards. He suffered a concussion, and was never the same afterwards.
This week, 28 years ago:
Plattsburgh High sensation Stamford Branch netted 26 points in a win over MAI in boys basketball. Those points were almost taken away after complains of fake documents of his age, but a legal birth certificate proved him honest…like his hips. Two days later, trailing by three, he sank a half court shot at the buzzer, but PHS still lost as there was no three point line back then. He lead all scorers with 29 points and 9 assists.
Until next week,
Otis Terry Sanderson, Chief Staff Writer
Seton Catholic senior Carrie Oakey scored two goals to lead her team to a victory in the first indoor soccer game of the year. Unfortunately, due to the lack of a growth spurt, the 5’1”, 96 pound Oakey was mistaken by her own goalie for the ball, and was picked up and punted to a wide open forward. Unfortunately, Oakey did not sustain the bicycle kick from forward Yashur al Faqur, and was immediately taken to the hospital by ambulance. She suffered 4 broken ribs, a slight concussion, and a severe amount of ridicule.
Faqur, mentioned above, was suspended for kicking his own teammate. When asked to leave the field by official Randy Lozier, Faqur slapped him across the face, and stumbled toward the sideline. With a deadly contradiction of Lozier’s “double-vision” and Faqur’s “unsteady” stumble, he appeared to have gotten off the hook until the other official, Barry Norton, threw a red flag and tossed Yashur al Faqur out of the game for drunkenness. When Yahsur argued, Official Norton replied, “Yashur, you were drinking shots in the back of my van on the ride to the game…you’re ejected!”
Seton Catholic senior Rufus Feldmore lead the team to a 5-1 victory with 4 first period goals, and a second period assist. He did not return to the ice for the third quarter as he complained of a “groin injury” to the 22 year old blonde athletic trainer. He was later spotted carrying her under the bleachers, where things got a little wild. He was named Player of the Game, and nicknamed “Hockey Hunk.”
This week, 9 years ago:
Plattsburgh High senior Luther Brewster obliterated 223 pins after 9 frames, but stopped right there because he likes the number 23. The next day, during an early off season Baseball practice in the gym, he broke his right pointer finger after following through on a fastball while doing a bullpen session. His finger is so long that, after release of the ball, in bent backwards on his follow through when it struck the ground in front of him. He was sidelined for 2 months, in which his finger continued to grow.
Brother Otis Sanderson was turning the back end of double plays from shortstop when runner Jordan Maille plowed into him and sent him flying backwards. He suffered a concussion, and was never the same afterwards.
This week, 28 years ago:
Plattsburgh High sensation Stamford Branch netted 26 points in a win over MAI in boys basketball. Those points were almost taken away after complains of fake documents of his age, but a legal birth certificate proved him honest…like his hips. Two days later, trailing by three, he sank a half court shot at the buzzer, but PHS still lost as there was no three point line back then. He lead all scorers with 29 points and 9 assists.
Until next week,
Otis Terry Sanderson, Chief Staff Writer
The 24th Year - A Short Story
The Altona Annual
January 16, 2009
The 24th Year - A Short Story
It was just another routine Friday in the suburbs of Boston for Carrie Oakey. As the alarm clock struck 5:00am, Carrie arose to a brisk chill caused by the draft from the window behind him. She quickly put on her slippers and crept into the Kitchen to start toasting her morning poptart, careful as to not wake her darling love and state roommate Stamford "Handyman" Branch.
As she softly closed her bedroom door and stepped towards the bathroom she let out a small chuckle as she opened the bathroom door. Poor Stamford had fallen asleep on Carrie's toilet again while relieving himself in the early morning hours. "Stamford, how did you manage to get in here without waking me up", she said while giving him a gentle nudge. As Stamford awoke with a befuddled look on his face, he didn't say one word, instead, he simply stood up and walked back to his bedroom, forgetting that his pants were still around his ankles. As Carrie flushed Stamford's deposits, she remained in deep thought about how it was her birthday and she was now 24 years old. "Man I'm getting old, it feels like it was just yesterday when Rufus Feldmore was schooling me in driveway basketball on Cogan Avenue. Today is going to be a great day!"
As Carrie finished her business, she looked up partially startled as Ms. Ali Pellerin glared at her for waking her up. "What do you think it's your birthday or something Carrie, keep it down I am trying to get my beauty sleep!", she roared harshly. Carrie apologized and went back into the kitchen to eat her now slightly burnt poptart, feeling sad and alone. Afterall, her own girlfriend had not even realized today was her birthday. That's ok she thought, my family and friends will call and wish me a happy birthday. And with that note of confidence, she set off for work.
Work was typical, she spent his morning doing normal insurance company things and sending emails to her friends. "Sanderson Times is really coming along nicely, but it's now two o'clock in the afternoon and no one has responded. Where are my friends and why have my parents not called me?", said Carrie looking sadly down at her keyboard. "Oh hey there Crriea, I'm going to need you to work late tonight. Only til eight-thirty, you don't have a problem with that or any plans do you?", her boss said arrogantly. "No sir I suppose I can do that...but today is.....", sighed Carrie, but before she was able to say anything further her manager shot a grin and thanked her and immediately marched on down the hall. "Everyone, can I have your attention!? I would like for you all to have a great weekend and for all of you except Carrie Oakey over there", pointing at Carrie as if she was thankful to be working late, " you can all have the rest of the day off, enjoy your weekend!" Carrie for the second time today, on her birthday no less, felt sad and completely alone.
"Finally 8:30, thank heavens...let's get out of this hell hole", said a relieved Carrie, "I just want to go home, go to bed and forget this day!" On her way home she got stuck in weekend traffic and remained in gridlock for 45 minutes. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HATE MY LIFE!", screamed Carrie. She finally pulled into her parking lot and ended up having to park several spots over due to three New York automobiles being in her usual parking places. As she walked through the door she met Ali and Austin walking down the stairs. "Oh hey there guys, where ya headed?", asked Carrie. Ali shot him a deadly glare, "We're going to Wendy's for a quick bite to eat since you took forever to get home Carrie!" "Oh I'm sorry I had to...", but before Carrie was able to finish her sentence, Ali shot her a look that would make the girl in the exorcist look like a Saint, "sorry I didn't know I upset you all...I will just tag along and sit in the backseat", stated Carrie.
As they pulled into the Wendy's parking lot, it was unusually empty for this hour. As they entered the fast food restaurant Carrie was shocked. "Surprise!", yelled Otis Sanderson, Luther Brewster, Yashur al Faqur, Joanne and Dave Slater, and Rufus Feldmore. "Wha..Whaa..Whatttt's going on here?!", Carrie stuttered. "We all drove here and rented out Wendy's for your birthday Carrie, we know how much you love your Wendy's", explained the group! "Yashur, what are you doing over there", questioned Carrie as she watched Yahsur take his mouth off of what looked like a beer spicket. "It's a keg of Red Stripe ofcourse!", slurred an already drunk Yashur, "we got it for your birthday, drink up Carrie!"
And that is the story of how Carrie spent the first day of his 24th year. With friends, family and girlfriend by her side, all pretending to avoid her throughout the day so they could bring her the best birthday surprise she's ever experienced, they ate Wendy's and drank Red Stripe til the early hours of the morning. Well..........late enough to at least witness Yashur getting thrown out for trying to cut rug with one of the hispanic Wendy's latenight staff. Sorry Yashur, those Massachusett's girls don't know good rug cuttin when they see it (Columbian Girls).
The End.
Rufus Feldmore Associate Writer
The Sanderson Times
January 16, 2009
The 24th Year - A Short Story
It was just another routine Friday in the suburbs of Boston for Carrie Oakey. As the alarm clock struck 5:00am, Carrie arose to a brisk chill caused by the draft from the window behind him. She quickly put on her slippers and crept into the Kitchen to start toasting her morning poptart, careful as to not wake her darling love and state roommate Stamford "Handyman" Branch.
As she softly closed her bedroom door and stepped towards the bathroom she let out a small chuckle as she opened the bathroom door. Poor Stamford had fallen asleep on Carrie's toilet again while relieving himself in the early morning hours. "Stamford, how did you manage to get in here without waking me up", she said while giving him a gentle nudge. As Stamford awoke with a befuddled look on his face, he didn't say one word, instead, he simply stood up and walked back to his bedroom, forgetting that his pants were still around his ankles. As Carrie flushed Stamford's deposits, she remained in deep thought about how it was her birthday and she was now 24 years old. "Man I'm getting old, it feels like it was just yesterday when Rufus Feldmore was schooling me in driveway basketball on Cogan Avenue. Today is going to be a great day!"
As Carrie finished her business, she looked up partially startled as Ms. Ali Pellerin glared at her for waking her up. "What do you think it's your birthday or something Carrie, keep it down I am trying to get my beauty sleep!", she roared harshly. Carrie apologized and went back into the kitchen to eat her now slightly burnt poptart, feeling sad and alone. Afterall, her own girlfriend had not even realized today was her birthday. That's ok she thought, my family and friends will call and wish me a happy birthday. And with that note of confidence, she set off for work.
Work was typical, she spent his morning doing normal insurance company things and sending emails to her friends. "Sanderson Times is really coming along nicely, but it's now two o'clock in the afternoon and no one has responded. Where are my friends and why have my parents not called me?", said Carrie looking sadly down at her keyboard. "Oh hey there Crriea, I'm going to need you to work late tonight. Only til eight-thirty, you don't have a problem with that or any plans do you?", her boss said arrogantly. "No sir I suppose I can do that...but today is.....", sighed Carrie, but before she was able to say anything further her manager shot a grin and thanked her and immediately marched on down the hall. "Everyone, can I have your attention!? I would like for you all to have a great weekend and for all of you except Carrie Oakey over there", pointing at Carrie as if she was thankful to be working late, " you can all have the rest of the day off, enjoy your weekend!" Carrie for the second time today, on her birthday no less, felt sad and completely alone.
"Finally 8:30, thank heavens...let's get out of this hell hole", said a relieved Carrie, "I just want to go home, go to bed and forget this day!" On her way home she got stuck in weekend traffic and remained in gridlock for 45 minutes. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HATE MY LIFE!", screamed Carrie. She finally pulled into her parking lot and ended up having to park several spots over due to three New York automobiles being in her usual parking places. As she walked through the door she met Ali and Austin walking down the stairs. "Oh hey there guys, where ya headed?", asked Carrie. Ali shot him a deadly glare, "We're going to Wendy's for a quick bite to eat since you took forever to get home Carrie!" "Oh I'm sorry I had to...", but before Carrie was able to finish her sentence, Ali shot her a look that would make the girl in the exorcist look like a Saint, "sorry I didn't know I upset you all...I will just tag along and sit in the backseat", stated Carrie.
As they pulled into the Wendy's parking lot, it was unusually empty for this hour. As they entered the fast food restaurant Carrie was shocked. "Surprise!", yelled Otis Sanderson, Luther Brewster, Yashur al Faqur, Joanne and Dave Slater, and Rufus Feldmore. "Wha..Whaa..Whatttt's going on here?!", Carrie stuttered. "We all drove here and rented out Wendy's for your birthday Carrie, we know how much you love your Wendy's", explained the group! "Yashur, what are you doing over there", questioned Carrie as she watched Yahsur take his mouth off of what looked like a beer spicket. "It's a keg of Red Stripe ofcourse!", slurred an already drunk Yashur, "we got it for your birthday, drink up Carrie!"
And that is the story of how Carrie spent the first day of his 24th year. With friends, family and girlfriend by her side, all pretending to avoid her throughout the day so they could bring her the best birthday surprise she's ever experienced, they ate Wendy's and drank Red Stripe til the early hours of the morning. Well..........late enough to at least witness Yashur getting thrown out for trying to cut rug with one of the hispanic Wendy's latenight staff. Sorry Yashur, those Massachusett's girls don't know good rug cuttin when they see it (Columbian Girls).
The End.
Rufus Feldmore Associate Writer
The Sanderson Times
Don't Stop Writing
Don't Stop Writing
(sing to the tune of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing")
Just a little paper, workin in a magazine world!
We took the world by storm with our satire…
Just a group of friends, writing for shits and giggles,
We took the world by storm with our satire…
*Guitar Solo*
A writer in his office cube,
The smell of White-Out and used erasers,
The stress of writing it can wear you down,
It goes on and on and on and on…
Subscribers, waiting, for the next piece of art,
As Otis, motivates us all night,
Carrie, Oakey, lookin mighty fine as always,
In her, short skirt and tight bloooouuuusssseee!!!
*Bridge*
Yashur's drinking, surprise surprise,
Amazed he can even write!
Feldmore's mackin on ladies all night,
Just one more layyyyy!
Some will talk, some will snooze,
Some were born to bring the news!
Luther Brewster and Stamford Branch,
They write on and on and on and on…
Subscribers, waiting, for the next piece of art,
As Stamford, improvising with a Pringles can,
Luther, Brewster, creepin and stealin girls as always,
With his, index touching the mooooooooooon!!!
*Chorus*
*Repeat until throat is dry*
Don't stop, writing,
Yells all our faithful fans!!!
Sanderson Tiiiiiimmmmeeesss!!!!
Don't stop, writing,
Yells all our faithful fans!!!
Sanderson Tiiiiiimmmmeeesss!!!!
Little Miss Can't Be Wrong,
Chief Staff Writer,
Carrie Oakey
(sing to the tune of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing")
Just a little paper, workin in a magazine world!
We took the world by storm with our satire…
Just a group of friends, writing for shits and giggles,
We took the world by storm with our satire…
*Guitar Solo*
A writer in his office cube,
The smell of White-Out and used erasers,
The stress of writing it can wear you down,
It goes on and on and on and on…
Subscribers, waiting, for the next piece of art,
As Otis, motivates us all night,
Carrie, Oakey, lookin mighty fine as always,
In her, short skirt and tight bloooouuuusssseee!!!
*Bridge*
Yashur's drinking, surprise surprise,
Amazed he can even write!
Feldmore's mackin on ladies all night,
Just one more layyyyy!
Some will talk, some will snooze,
Some were born to bring the news!
Luther Brewster and Stamford Branch,
They write on and on and on and on…
Subscribers, waiting, for the next piece of art,
As Stamford, improvising with a Pringles can,
Luther, Brewster, creepin and stealin girls as always,
With his, index touching the mooooooooooon!!!
*Chorus*
*Repeat until throat is dry*
Don't stop, writing,
Yells all our faithful fans!!!
Sanderson Tiiiiiimmmmeeesss!!!!
Don't stop, writing,
Yells all our faithful fans!!!
Sanderson Tiiiiiimmmmeeesss!!!!
Little Miss Can't Be Wrong,
Chief Staff Writer,
Carrie Oakey
THE SANDERSON TIMES 12 PACK
Another Late Holiday Submission...
THE SANDERSON TIMES 12 PACK
On the first day of vacation my brew pals gave to me…
A stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the first day of vacation my brew pals gave to me…
A stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the second day of vacation my brew pals gave to me…
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the third day of vacation, my brew pals gave to me…
3 Pringles Cans (in a variety of flavors),
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the fourth day of vacation my brew pals gave to me…
4 Oakey fist pumps,
3 Pringles Cans (in a variety of flavors),
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the fifth day of vacation, my brew pals gave to me…
5 girls MUSSSSSSSTTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRING!
4 Oakey fist pumps,
3 Pringles Cans (in a variety of flavors),
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the sixth day of vacation, my brew pals gave to me…
6 points of Luther’s long finger,
5 girls MUSSSSSSSTTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRING!
4 Oakey fist pumps,
3 Pringles Cans (in a variety of flavors),
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the seventh day of vacation, my brew pals gave to me…
7 quarters in the juke box (for a variety of 80’s hits),
6 points of Luther’s long finger,
5 girls MUSSSSSSSTTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRING!
4 Oakey fist pumps,
3 Pringles Cans (in a variety of flavors),
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the eighth day of vacation, my brew pals gave to me…
8 Lozier insults,
7 quarters in the juke box (for a variety of 80’s hits),
6 points of Luther's long finger,
5 girls MUSSSSSSSTTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRING!
4 Oakey fist pumps,
3 Pringles Cans (in a variety of flavors),
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the ninth day of vacation, my brew pals gave to me…
9 Faqur dance moves,
8 Lozier insults,
7 quarters in the juke box (for a variety of 80’s hits),
6 points of Luther’s long finger,
5 girls MUSSSSSSSTTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRING!
4 Oakey fist pumps,
3 Pringles Cans (in a variety of flavors),
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the tenth day of vacation, my brew pals gave to me…
10 Feldmore pick-up lines,
9 Faqur dance moves,
8 Lozier insults,
7 quarters in the juke box (for a variety of 80’s hits),
6 points of Luther’s long finger,
5 girls MUSSSSSSSTTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRING!
4 Oakey fist pumps,
3 Pringles Cans (in a variety of flavors),
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the eleventh day of vacation, my brew pals gave to me…
11 hip thrusts from Otis,
10 Feldmore pick-up lines,
9 Faqur dance moves,
8 Lozier insults,
7 quarters in the juke box (for a variety of 80’s hits),
6 points of Luther’s long finger,
5 girls MUSSSSSSSTTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRING!
4 Oakey fist pumps,
3 Pringles Cans (in a variety of flavors),
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
On the twelfth day of vacation, my brew pals gave to me…
12 Nights of Boozing…
11 hip thrusts from Otis,
10 Feldmore pick-up lines,
9 Faqur dance moves,
8 Lozier insults,
7 quarters in the juke box (for a variety of 80’s hits),
6 points of Luther’s long finger,
5 girls MUSSSSSSSTTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRING!
4 Oakey fist pumps,
3 Pringles Cans (in a variety of flavors),
2 shots of cognac (just for Otis),
And a stateroom mate who is very sweet!
Happy Holidays to the staff and subscribers of the Sanderson Times…May all your glasses be full of booze and your dance moves be honest!
Submitted by staff writer: Stamford Branch - Boston Office
The Night Before Christmas (The Brew Edition)
The Night Before Christmas (The Brew Edition)
Twas the Night Before Christmas, when all through the bar,
Not a creature was brewing, not even Jim Carr.
The shot glasses were hung by the liquor bottles with care,
In the hopes that 6 studs would soon be there.
The ladies were nestled snug in their beds,
With visions of Matt Dickson dancing in their heads.
Gebhardt with his beer and I with my rum tart,
Had just settled down for a game of beer darts.
When out on the street, there arose a great tizzy,
As the brothers Rivers shouted, “It’s time to get busy!”
“Gather up Norton, Gather up Dickson,
It’s time for some jack and cokes for us to be fixin’!”
I sprang from the couch along with Chris,
“To the bar!” Jeff shouted, his brew pals he did miss.
Away to the corner of Margaret and Clinton,
For some girls tonight are bound to need stickin!
It’s time to get drinking; it’s time to take a chance,
As Matty Rivs threw on some tunes and Patch rocked the Dino Dance.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
Then an open bar in Green Room with unlimited beer!
I knew this a sign, I knew it was fate.
“Let’s get to it boys. This should not wait!”
As Mikey Rivs shouted, “They have Coors! I’m so hyped”
And Gebhardt shouted, “THEY HAVE RED STRIPE!”
As five of us stood out on the town,
“Where’s Jeff?” Dickson shouted…Must be getting down!
In the Old Chi Booms within a breeze,
Jeff cutting rug on some 38 C’s.
Already hammered and with no one around,
Jeff began his big attempt at trying to get down.
He thought of a good line to get a girl flustered,
“Hey girl! You bring the doughnut and I’ll bring the custard!”
The girls were shocked. “Who is this trying to mack us?”
No problem says Jeff; It’s time for Muster Practice.
Back to the bar, with a fist load of cash,
Where Michael Rivers was creeping on ladies quick as a flash!
“I know you like Dickson. He’s the stud of this crew,
But my bed is warm, and I’ve got tons of brew.”
So Mike has his girl and Dickson has many,
What’s Matty Rivs up to? His sweatpants are ready.
Why he’s rockin the jukebox and all you can say is “Wow!”
Cuz he’s thrusting his hips to “I Think We’re Alone Now”
Gebhardt’s in the corner, throwing fist pumps without care,
And of course the ladies think he’s cute, like a little teddy bear.
This party is jumping, without any doubt
Because of six studs who were boozing with clout.
The music, the ladies, and of course the alcohol,
Should make this a great night for one and all.
Now it’s off to Bono for some pizza with cheese,
Cuz it’s Cootaman’s favorite, 2 slices for him please.
Soon we’ll all head home,
Mike with Teresa T.And Matt you know, he’s with Haley Trombley.
And Gebhardt, will soon be home to turn in,
Cuz you all know, he’s the one with Ali Pellerin.
Dickson got his girls, without any clutter,
Which leaves Norton and Patch and some BUMPIN TURD CUTTERS!
Yes, it’s quite a crew, the P-burgh six,
But they’ll all soon be back for drinkin’s their fix.
Cuz this is the tale of these guys and one thing is clear,
That these boys can sure drink them some beer.
And if listen close tonight, you’ll hear a great cluster
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD MUSSSSSSSSSTERRRRRRR!
Once you POP, you can't Stop...
Stamford Branch
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
YASHUR'S YEARBOOK
LETTERS LINKED TO LEGENDS
P anty patroller
A dult at 12
T urdcutter extraordinaire
C an destroyer
H airy…except for that darn hole…
M ale stripper
A dores Cognac
T he flatter the better
T hrusts on command
M attingly
I ndex finger for miles
K araoke champion
E xtremely creepy
C ooterman
H airy chin now!!!
R eally sarcastic
I nnovative dancer (i.e. fistpumps)
S ooooooo CUTE!
J agerbombs
E very night party
F alling over
F irst to show, last to leave
R uns up sweet tabs
E xtremely good dancer
Y up, that was a bad decision!
D ancing queen
I ncredible physique
C ooter killer
K leptomaniac
S ick pickup lines
O verly affectionate (tackling…really?!)
N ortheast STUD
Shawty get loose,
Yashur Al FaqurAssociated Writer (on the way up!)
P anty patroller
A dult at 12
T urdcutter extraordinaire
C an destroyer
H airy…except for that darn hole…
M ale stripper
A dores Cognac
T he flatter the better
T hrusts on command
M attingly
I ndex finger for miles
K araoke champion
E xtremely creepy
C ooterman
H airy chin now!!!
R eally sarcastic
I nnovative dancer (i.e. fistpumps)
S ooooooo CUTE!
J agerbombs
E very night party
F alling over
F irst to show, last to leave
R uns up sweet tabs
E xtremely good dancer
Y up, that was a bad decision!
D ancing queen
I ncredible physique
C ooter killer
K leptomaniac
S ick pickup lines
O verly affectionate (tackling…really?!)
N ortheast STUD
Shawty get loose,
Yashur Al FaqurAssociated Writer (on the way up!)
Tales of the Pimp
Jan 6, 2009
Plattsburgh, NY (AP): It was the day after Christmas, and it was time for the Sanderson Times Society to have its first public appearance, with attendance by all staff members. The well-awaited-for meeting took place at Geoffrey’s Pub (might as well call it Yashur’s Pub). Not only were all members in attendance, but there was a warm greeting by fans, and even in some cases, fans-to-be.
The meeting went smoothly, the beer flowed smoothly, and Rufus Feldmore pick up lines worked smoothly. After dropping MILK on Megan “Mardi” Gras, Feldmore made his “play hard to get” move and switched over to the Green Room. And wouldn’t you know it, Mardi followed! As Feldmore was casually chit-chatting with fellow members of the Society, an excited and joyous Mardi ran right up to him and initiated a “sure-hit” conversation.
“That ephing kid,” cries and excited, yet envious Stamford “Patch” Branch, “I don’t know how he does it. I’ve been working that since our junior year, and Feldmore’s on his way to getting her in the sack after ten minutes and a silly milk line that never works.”
“It was a successful meeting,” says Carrie Oakey. “We met up, we threw back some Brew, and Feldmore found a new love. What more can a group of guys ask for in one night? It was well worth the wait.”
Well, the night continued, and so did the drinking, and so did the macking. It grew late, and like many Yashur al Faqur nights, the crew was too drunk to walk home. And that’s when Haley Trombley got the call.
“Can you come pick me up please? You can even take my car,” asked Otis Sanderson into his cell phone whose battery is held in place by a piece of electrical tape since he blacked out one night and somehow lost the backing of his phone. A bit discouraged, she finally agreed, and cruised down a busy Plattsburgh downtown in the small Tiburon. Little did she know she would also be giving a ride to Stamford Branch, Megan Gras, Rufus Feldmore, and Luther Brewster. So they piled in, with Mardi sitting on Feldmore’s lap. It wasn’t until Mardi was dropped off when Rufus Feldmore’s pimpin moves started to creep out into the night. She exited the vehicle, and Feldmore followed for a quick hug, as well as hope of an offer to stay the night. Well, that hope would soon vanish. He bear-hugged her, and with her in his arms, jumped laterally into a snowbank, completely drenching her in her nice clothes before she could escape to a clean, safe, dry bed. And if that wasn’t enough, as she tried to squirm away, he took a handful of snow and splashed it right into her face. She abruptly got up and literally ran towards safety, aka, the door.
“It was unbelievable!” exclaimed onlooker and long time friend, Luther Brewster. “He used Lloyd Christmas moves, and thus, Feldmore made Christmas look like a saint! I don’t care though, if you ask me, Feldmore is a stud! That was such a good move! I would NEVER have the pills to do that, but I’m so glad I got to witness it!”
“After asking, ‘Hunny, do you think KFC is still open,’ and she quickly denied me, I tried to be on my best behavior,” admits Otis Sanderson. “I tried so hard not to laugh and to pretend that I didn’t appreciate women being treated that way, but I just couldn’t keep it in. I forgot about trying to be good for Hales…I was too impressed by Dickson’s sweet moves that I couldn’t hold back. I laughed and laughed and congratulated him.”
“Well, I saw it as an opportunity to lie on top of her,” states a sleezy Feldmore. “Since the milk line did wonders already, I figured I had her wrapped up, but it didn’t occur to me until later that girls don’t like snow thrown in their faces. I guess I blew it, not in the good way, but nonetheless, I’ll get her back. Just you wait. I’ll get her back.”
Meanwhile, Yashur al Faqur was still at Tabu. One report tells us he was sitting at the bar slaying pitchers of Captain and Diet. Another source spotted him passed out on the dance floor. A third witness saw him passed out in a parked car outside of Tabu. Maybe he’ll be all right, who knows? Maybe he’ll get arrested, who knows? And maybe he’s just grabbing a quick nap at the closest spot he could find so that he’ll be ready to get back at it the next morning, who knows?
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
Plattsburgh, NY (AP): It was the day after Christmas, and it was time for the Sanderson Times Society to have its first public appearance, with attendance by all staff members. The well-awaited-for meeting took place at Geoffrey’s Pub (might as well call it Yashur’s Pub). Not only were all members in attendance, but there was a warm greeting by fans, and even in some cases, fans-to-be.
The meeting went smoothly, the beer flowed smoothly, and Rufus Feldmore pick up lines worked smoothly. After dropping MILK on Megan “Mardi” Gras, Feldmore made his “play hard to get” move and switched over to the Green Room. And wouldn’t you know it, Mardi followed! As Feldmore was casually chit-chatting with fellow members of the Society, an excited and joyous Mardi ran right up to him and initiated a “sure-hit” conversation.
“That ephing kid,” cries and excited, yet envious Stamford “Patch” Branch, “I don’t know how he does it. I’ve been working that since our junior year, and Feldmore’s on his way to getting her in the sack after ten minutes and a silly milk line that never works.”
“It was a successful meeting,” says Carrie Oakey. “We met up, we threw back some Brew, and Feldmore found a new love. What more can a group of guys ask for in one night? It was well worth the wait.”
Well, the night continued, and so did the drinking, and so did the macking. It grew late, and like many Yashur al Faqur nights, the crew was too drunk to walk home. And that’s when Haley Trombley got the call.
“Can you come pick me up please? You can even take my car,” asked Otis Sanderson into his cell phone whose battery is held in place by a piece of electrical tape since he blacked out one night and somehow lost the backing of his phone. A bit discouraged, she finally agreed, and cruised down a busy Plattsburgh downtown in the small Tiburon. Little did she know she would also be giving a ride to Stamford Branch, Megan Gras, Rufus Feldmore, and Luther Brewster. So they piled in, with Mardi sitting on Feldmore’s lap. It wasn’t until Mardi was dropped off when Rufus Feldmore’s pimpin moves started to creep out into the night. She exited the vehicle, and Feldmore followed for a quick hug, as well as hope of an offer to stay the night. Well, that hope would soon vanish. He bear-hugged her, and with her in his arms, jumped laterally into a snowbank, completely drenching her in her nice clothes before she could escape to a clean, safe, dry bed. And if that wasn’t enough, as she tried to squirm away, he took a handful of snow and splashed it right into her face. She abruptly got up and literally ran towards safety, aka, the door.
“It was unbelievable!” exclaimed onlooker and long time friend, Luther Brewster. “He used Lloyd Christmas moves, and thus, Feldmore made Christmas look like a saint! I don’t care though, if you ask me, Feldmore is a stud! That was such a good move! I would NEVER have the pills to do that, but I’m so glad I got to witness it!”
“After asking, ‘Hunny, do you think KFC is still open,’ and she quickly denied me, I tried to be on my best behavior,” admits Otis Sanderson. “I tried so hard not to laugh and to pretend that I didn’t appreciate women being treated that way, but I just couldn’t keep it in. I forgot about trying to be good for Hales…I was too impressed by Dickson’s sweet moves that I couldn’t hold back. I laughed and laughed and congratulated him.”
“Well, I saw it as an opportunity to lie on top of her,” states a sleezy Feldmore. “Since the milk line did wonders already, I figured I had her wrapped up, but it didn’t occur to me until later that girls don’t like snow thrown in their faces. I guess I blew it, not in the good way, but nonetheless, I’ll get her back. Just you wait. I’ll get her back.”
Meanwhile, Yashur al Faqur was still at Tabu. One report tells us he was sitting at the bar slaying pitchers of Captain and Diet. Another source spotted him passed out on the dance floor. A third witness saw him passed out in a parked car outside of Tabu. Maybe he’ll be all right, who knows? Maybe he’ll get arrested, who knows? And maybe he’s just grabbing a quick nap at the closest spot he could find so that he’ll be ready to get back at it the next morning, who knows?
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
Late Twas The Night Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas and all Plattsburgh was thinking
Where is Yashur al Faqur? He must be out drinking.
The barkeeps were happy, their best drinker was there,
And a white Christmas to come, snowflakes in the air.
A lucky girl was nestled, all snug in her bed,
With visions of Rufus Feldmore mustering in her head.
She lay sound asleep, dreaming of the stud,
Then all of a sudden, she hears a big thud.
When up on the roof, a loud noise, a loud boom,
It was Rufus Feldmore crawling down the chimney to sneak into her room.
Her parents go outside, and look to the roof,
Wow! Feldmore played them, made them look like a goof.
For he climbed in her bed, got under the covers,
They made magic right there, like sinners, like lovers.
Her dad heard noise inside, he heard his daughter scream,
It lasted for a minute, while he made the young girl cream.
Her dad rushed in, to see if she was okay,
All cozy in her bed, all quiet she lay.
He closed her door, and let his girl sleep,
While Feldmore snuck out the window, no noise, no peep.
He went to the bar to meet up with the crew,
There was Yashur, Stamford, Carrie, Otis, and Luther Brew.
The latter ones were drinking, so he drank with those four,
While Yashur lay passed out, face down on the floor.
Patch hopped on a table, vacuum in hand,
And sounded louder than speakers, better than a band.
His voice carried over the anxious crowd,
Everyone listened and they whoa’ed and they wow’ed.
Oakey was thirsty, he needed a beer,
Luther said, “Stay seated, I can reach it from here.”
He stuck out his hand, his finger extended,
Tapped the barkeep on the shoulder, around the corner it bended.
“Three Coors Lights and a Red Stripe” he requested,
Coach Vern brought them over, as Yashur was getting arrested.
They rushed to the window, saw Yashur getting stuffed,
Into the cop car, his hands were handcuffed.
They ran outside, Carrie Oakey yelled “Wait,”
But unfortunately for them, it wasn’t too late.
The cop turned around, his eyes aglow,
For five young men had open containers to show.
He shoved four in the back to squeeze with the drunk one,
While Otis Sands quickly and excitedly yelled “Shotgun!”
It was a night these six would never forget,
Until another cop showed up…it was Gary Duquette!
He was just in time, he saved the day,
For these studs were straight. They wouldn’t have it any other way.
He said, “You’re safe. Now go straight to your houses, don’t wander, don’t roam.”
Luther looked to the sky, pointed his finger, and said, “Luther Brewster, phone home!”
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
Where is Yashur al Faqur? He must be out drinking.
The barkeeps were happy, their best drinker was there,
And a white Christmas to come, snowflakes in the air.
A lucky girl was nestled, all snug in her bed,
With visions of Rufus Feldmore mustering in her head.
She lay sound asleep, dreaming of the stud,
Then all of a sudden, she hears a big thud.
When up on the roof, a loud noise, a loud boom,
It was Rufus Feldmore crawling down the chimney to sneak into her room.
Her parents go outside, and look to the roof,
Wow! Feldmore played them, made them look like a goof.
For he climbed in her bed, got under the covers,
They made magic right there, like sinners, like lovers.
Her dad heard noise inside, he heard his daughter scream,
It lasted for a minute, while he made the young girl cream.
Her dad rushed in, to see if she was okay,
All cozy in her bed, all quiet she lay.
He closed her door, and let his girl sleep,
While Feldmore snuck out the window, no noise, no peep.
He went to the bar to meet up with the crew,
There was Yashur, Stamford, Carrie, Otis, and Luther Brew.
The latter ones were drinking, so he drank with those four,
While Yashur lay passed out, face down on the floor.
Patch hopped on a table, vacuum in hand,
And sounded louder than speakers, better than a band.
His voice carried over the anxious crowd,
Everyone listened and they whoa’ed and they wow’ed.
Oakey was thirsty, he needed a beer,
Luther said, “Stay seated, I can reach it from here.”
He stuck out his hand, his finger extended,
Tapped the barkeep on the shoulder, around the corner it bended.
“Three Coors Lights and a Red Stripe” he requested,
Coach Vern brought them over, as Yashur was getting arrested.
They rushed to the window, saw Yashur getting stuffed,
Into the cop car, his hands were handcuffed.
They ran outside, Carrie Oakey yelled “Wait,”
But unfortunately for them, it wasn’t too late.
The cop turned around, his eyes aglow,
For five young men had open containers to show.
He shoved four in the back to squeeze with the drunk one,
While Otis Sands quickly and excitedly yelled “Shotgun!”
It was a night these six would never forget,
Until another cop showed up…it was Gary Duquette!
He was just in time, he saved the day,
For these studs were straight. They wouldn’t have it any other way.
He said, “You’re safe. Now go straight to your houses, don’t wander, don’t roam.”
Luther looked to the sky, pointed his finger, and said, “Luther Brewster, phone home!”
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
First Article of 2009
A toy scooter. A new hockey stick. A new baseball glove. A new GI-Joe. A new basketball. A new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. The new Hanson CD. All little boys and girls hope for new gifts come Christmas time. Some get what they want, some don’t. Some get surprises, some receive things they already know about. For one little boy, his surprise came on Christmas Eve.
“My Christmas gift was a razor and shaving cream,” exclaimed 12 year old Stamford Branch. “All of my friends got toy cars and video games, and I got this,” he said, obviously angry with Deacon Bushey. “You’d think my father, being so close to God and everything could have done a little better.”
“I got a glove!” Yelled excited Otis Sanderson, unable to keep his excitement hidden, “It’s every 13 year old boy’s dream to get a new glove and baseball for Christmas!” he screamed as if he had just won a Special Olympics Gold Medal. When asked if Christmas was his favorite part of being 13, Otis replied, “It’s my 2nd favorite. My favorite part about being 13 is that the girls are SO flat! I love it! I hope they never hit puberty!”
A disgusted Rufus Feldmore grabbed our attention, as all of the little girls Otis Sanderson was talking about were all around Feldmore, like Barbie on Ken. “What can I say, I got ALL of these gifts for Christmas,” explained a pre-pubescent Feldmore, “and my parents gave me condoms, which I had to return to the store because I already have the XL-Value-Pack,” he said with a wink.
When we talked with Yashur al Faqur, he explained to us how his favorite gift for Christmas was the shot glass his father bought him. “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome! My dad got me this and my mom got me a bottle of Jack to get me through Christmas Eve Mass, then another bottle for Christmas Day!” When this was brought to our attention, we immediately alerted the authorities and had Yashur taken to social services while his parents were taken into custody. “Who cares if I give my 11 year old son alcohol? I started at 9! I was pounding a 12 pack alone at 10!” Screamed Barry Norton while being cuffed.
Another boy’s dream came true on Christmas Eve. He was arriving at the airport to go home for the Holidays. Although he was 13 he was able to travel alone. Who was there, waiting at 3 in the morning but Santa Clause himself?! “OH MY GOD!” yelled little Luther Brewster, pointing at Santa as he stepped off the plane and nearly touching Santa’s nose with his index finger (even though Santa was all the way at the baggage claim area). “It’s really him!!! I can’t believe it!!” exclaimed the little Brewster boy! “This is the best Christmas EVER!”
There it is. There’s the love story that never gets old. The love for Santa from little children. It’s unconditional. Also, there’s nothing like kids getting together in the spirit of Christmas to get one of their friend’s a gift. They pooled together to help out their friend, Randy Lozier.
While the 11,12, and 13 year old boys were getting their gifts, Randy was graduating college and earning his reffing license. The boys put their money together and gave him something that’ll benefit his profession in reffing.
They got him a new glass eye.
Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong,
Chief Staff Writer,
Carrie Oakey
“My Christmas gift was a razor and shaving cream,” exclaimed 12 year old Stamford Branch. “All of my friends got toy cars and video games, and I got this,” he said, obviously angry with Deacon Bushey. “You’d think my father, being so close to God and everything could have done a little better.”
“I got a glove!” Yelled excited Otis Sanderson, unable to keep his excitement hidden, “It’s every 13 year old boy’s dream to get a new glove and baseball for Christmas!” he screamed as if he had just won a Special Olympics Gold Medal. When asked if Christmas was his favorite part of being 13, Otis replied, “It’s my 2nd favorite. My favorite part about being 13 is that the girls are SO flat! I love it! I hope they never hit puberty!”
A disgusted Rufus Feldmore grabbed our attention, as all of the little girls Otis Sanderson was talking about were all around Feldmore, like Barbie on Ken. “What can I say, I got ALL of these gifts for Christmas,” explained a pre-pubescent Feldmore, “and my parents gave me condoms, which I had to return to the store because I already have the XL-Value-Pack,” he said with a wink.
When we talked with Yashur al Faqur, he explained to us how his favorite gift for Christmas was the shot glass his father bought him. “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome! My dad got me this and my mom got me a bottle of Jack to get me through Christmas Eve Mass, then another bottle for Christmas Day!” When this was brought to our attention, we immediately alerted the authorities and had Yashur taken to social services while his parents were taken into custody. “Who cares if I give my 11 year old son alcohol? I started at 9! I was pounding a 12 pack alone at 10!” Screamed Barry Norton while being cuffed.
Another boy’s dream came true on Christmas Eve. He was arriving at the airport to go home for the Holidays. Although he was 13 he was able to travel alone. Who was there, waiting at 3 in the morning but Santa Clause himself?! “OH MY GOD!” yelled little Luther Brewster, pointing at Santa as he stepped off the plane and nearly touching Santa’s nose with his index finger (even though Santa was all the way at the baggage claim area). “It’s really him!!! I can’t believe it!!” exclaimed the little Brewster boy! “This is the best Christmas EVER!”
There it is. There’s the love story that never gets old. The love for Santa from little children. It’s unconditional. Also, there’s nothing like kids getting together in the spirit of Christmas to get one of their friend’s a gift. They pooled together to help out their friend, Randy Lozier.
While the 11,12, and 13 year old boys were getting their gifts, Randy was graduating college and earning his reffing license. The boys put their money together and gave him something that’ll benefit his profession in reffing.
They got him a new glass eye.
Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong,
Chief Staff Writer,
Carrie Oakey
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Welcome One, Welcome All
Hello,
This is the first public post for all Sanderson Times viewers to enjoy!
Friends and fellow online users, join the largest spreading phenomenom in the United States of America, or at least, New England. Tell your family and friends and allow our staff members to entertain you all by reading articles, poems, songs, and other random thoughts and scribblings.
Take your time, stroll through past articles and learn a little bit about us as a publication, and our extremely entertaining writers. Go through and see which writer is your favorite! Enjoy!
~Sanderson Times Staff
This is the first public post for all Sanderson Times viewers to enjoy!
Friends and fellow online users, join the largest spreading phenomenom in the United States of America, or at least, New England. Tell your family and friends and allow our staff members to entertain you all by reading articles, poems, songs, and other random thoughts and scribblings.
Take your time, stroll through past articles and learn a little bit about us as a publication, and our extremely entertaining writers. Go through and see which writer is your favorite! Enjoy!
~Sanderson Times Staff
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)