Exclusive: Wikipedia Search Casts Doubt on Bin Laden Assassination

Predator Press

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Q 1: How could a seal possibly have pulled the trigger?

Fact: Seals don’t have opposable thumbs. And perhaps more importantly, they don’t have shoulders. Am I supposed to believe a “navy” seal swam to Pakistan carrying an AK-47 in its flippers the whole way?

Those guns have straps for a reason.

Q 2: What the hell is a "navy" seal doing in the dessert anyway?

Fact: Osama bin Laden [ObL] wasn’t holed out on some parfait. That’s a dessert. A desert, it turns out, is a place like the beach except there is explicitly no ocean by definition. So where did the “navy” park all their boats an crap without somebody seeing them do it?

Remember this isn’t attacking a dessert -you can’t just throw sprinkles on your aircraft carrier and hope for the best ... Pakistan would have hit you broadside with a strawberry in a second.

Q 3: Why does President Obama’s Birth Certificate make no mention of the effort?

Fact: Obama’s Birth Certificate was created by ancients like fifteen or twenty years ago, and it could not have known about the events that transpired on 9/11.

-Or could it? Obama's Birth Certificate contains a wealth of knowledge about Obama such as where and when he was born, his parents' names, and the fact that he was once black.

The Birth Certificate, therefore, has demonstrated repeated culpability and motive in the entire presidency from infancy -maybe even from inception.

So how can we ever know that the afore-mentioned Birth Certificate itself didn’t hide Mother Obama’s birth control on that fateful, romantic night in Syria or Iran?

-Or that the fate of America‘s 2008 president wasn't SEALED [eh?] that night on a blue EPT stick by Hitler himself?

Hm?

I Have Decided to Join a Secret Society

Predator Press

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I know! Isn’t that cool? Now when people see me, they will whisper stuff like:

”Psst ... isn’t that LOBO?”

”That really handsome dude wrestling the grizzly bear?”

“Yes. I heard he is a member of a secret society!”

Man, I am jazzed about joining too. Ever since George Bush Junior got his big break from ‘Skull and Bones,’ all the other cool people are doing it: Kipling had the ‘Freemasons,’ Doctor Tundra has ‘The Cult of the Claw,’ and Charles Watson had the Manson Family -ah the list just goes on and on.

Which one should I join? I don’t know yet. In fact the afore mentioned list pretty much sums up all the secret societies I’m aware of -and by virtue of me being aware of them, these particular societies don't seem very good at keeping themselves secret. And what kind of business model is that?

What I need is a secret society where the members themselves don’t know I’m in it. Even better, so secret even I don’t know if I’m in it ... kinda like the one I have going with actor Michael Dorn and whoever the current guitarist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers is. Whenever Michael Dorn, the current guitarist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers and I cross paths we exchange a series of knowing looks. Mind you I have no idea what Michael Dorn and the current guitarist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers might be up to at the time, but I’m with them 100% whatever it is.

So technically, I suppose, I’m already a member of a secret society; I’ll have to ensure my new one doesn’t have a conflict of interest –or worse, a redundancy- of my first. Secret society juggling can be a tricky endeavor when you don’t know what either secret society is doing ... probably my best bet is to lure the current guitarist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers into a secret society of our own, within the other secret society.

-I don’t know about you, but Michael Dorn plays a Klingon a little too good.

Know what I mean?

Seven Years Bad Luck

Predator Press

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Like any other red-blooded American, I cook my sushi. And I put cheese on it. And I make it out of beef.

So just like you, I’ve been waiting with bated breath on Jesse Ventura’s ‘take’ on the assassination of Osama bin Laden.

See, in the past Jesse has been critical of America’s forthrightness regarding a possible 9/11 conspiracy. But Osama has supposedly been assassinated by the Navy Seals.  And Jesse is a bona-fide former Navy Seal himself.

Don’t misunderstand me here: I love Jesse, and he is one of my favorite people: wearing a pink boa he became a world champion wrestler, and was eventually elected state governor.   Ha! -As far as I’m concerned Jesse is King of the Earth: the only way that could be topped is to have done all that simultaneously.

But you’ve seen Jesse on television, right?

I picture Jesse practicing the ‘Disappearing Quarter’ slight-of-hand trick in a mirror, and walking away confused, angry, and short $5.75.

Being President Seems Like a Pretty Cool Job. Is there an Application Process or Something?

Predator Press

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After almost ten years of not-so-patiently awaiting news of Osama bin Laden's [ObL's] death, I am puzzled at the lack of joyous fulfillment I imagined this moment to be. Justice? Revenge? I find it hard to be happy for anything other than the end of ObL’s murder spree.

So now what?  Having long forgotten a world without him already, I am perhaps even a little disconcerted with the idea he is gone. Will there be post-Osama support groups?  Against what shall we guage if we are mistreating ourselves at airports enough? 

Should we simply be looking for a new boogieman already?  Finding another one can’t be difficult after all; as Americans we are a culture of subtle nuance.  For instance nudity is considered art or science until somebody desires to see it.  If someone actually wants to see it, we call it pornography.  See?  Subtle nuance.

Admittedly, a sliver of amusement comes in here and there -like having embarrassed Pakistan. I never trusted those fuckers in the first place, and we've been giving $2 billion [with a "b"] a year to Pakistan even after Asif Ali Zadari sold me that crappy timeshare.  Yeah, it was 'technically' on the beach ... but the beach smelled like dead jellyfish and pelican farts the whole season I had it.

But with ObL slain I thought Surely this will resolve some concerns about our president.  Obama got Osama!  O Holy Christ thank GOD I am so freaking sick of hearing about that damn birth certificate-"

And then I found out Obama made the military secretly dump ObL’s body in the ocean.

!!!

I have decided that we are being fucked with. Hard.  Not that I don’t believe ObL is dead, not that we didn’t land on the Moon, not that Lincoln, Kennedy, King, ad nauseam, were assassinated by the implied parties … but I’m thinking there is a wing of the White House just dreaming up stuff to make us doubt everything we know -perhaps in effort to promote an omniscient, omnipotent secret US agenda.

And I get why.  Because if I were sworn in as president, the FIRST thing I would do is recede from the public eye entirely. Having assembled a think tank of the greatest opposing minds in the world as my cabinet, I would periodically be consulted by them vis-à-vis Charlie from Charlie’s Angels -via voice box from a secret location such as Maui, Key West, or New Orleans. (In fact, I think I would be annoyed if I had to talk to them at all; nothing ruins a good buzz like the greatest opposing minds in the world.)

And I said "recede" and not "vanish" for a reason: every once in a while you would see a Photoshop of me in the New York Times getting a ‘All-Seeing Eye’ Masonic tattoo. Or in the Chicago Tribune, me and Marilyn Monroe hauling the Ark of the Covenant out of a forgotten Nazi warehouse.  The LA Times will show me tearing off a Skynet t-shirt, almost revealing the superfluous nipple I glue to random spots on my torso.

And as President, I promise to get absolutely nothing done personally ... but man will those crazies be busy.

-Just imagine what you could accomplish with them preoccupied.

HEAT

Predator Press

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I may have written about my “Bucket List” -a bunch of crap I want to do before I die- already.

-But all you die-hard Predator Press readers immolating yourselves should know this is a brand new post -so no matter how bad those gasoline fumes are, read this, shut the fuck up, and think about what you’ve done.

-Assholes.

But -as was saying before I was rudely interrupted- for the most part my "Bucket List" is sophomoric criminal bullshit:

1) steal a cop car and lead the cops on a high speed chase, or

2) steal an armored car and lead the cops on a medium-speed chase until I can

3) steal the helicopter cops use for high speed chases (eh? Eh?), and

4) screech to a halt just past a sign on a bridge that reads "County Line," and park to wave back happily at the fleet of furious cops that can no longer arrest me because I'm 6 linear feet outside their jurisdiction.

My 5th "Bucket List" item is more a pair of scientific theories I want you people to finally prove. (I would prove them myself in life, but because they are scientific theories, they may -MAY- require some ‘Mathematics.’ And while not willing to dabble in such pagan hoodoo, I do want the credit.)

Theory A) I think if you’re pulled over for a DUI and the cop asks you to take a sobriety test, you’re already fucked. Right?  He’s just making you do tricks so he can laugh watching them on his VHS later that day:

T       F

Theory B) You know how you can live on a rural street -middle of nowhere- and maybe six cars go by all day, but when you get in your car and start the ignition it’s like Chicago I-94 all of the sudden? Or how it seems every light is red?  Well, I think there is a well-organized squad of old people with walkie-talkies fucking with us. War vets -? They radio when we leave the house, where we're going, what and what bank teller lane we're getting into, et cetera.

But why 'old people,' o Brilliant One?” you are probably asking.

See, that logic took me a while. The Opportunity was never in question ... trust me: when I can‘t sleep and my dick doesn‘t work anymore, I‘ll be hassling you.  But what is the Motive? What the fuck do these geezers have against us?  I don’t want to put deer stalker hat factories out of business or anything …. I’m just sayin this blue haired buzzard bait has some crazy reason for doin’ this shit, right?

Eventually I crunched the numbers on Excel. I found that elderly people have a slower reaction time -sometimes half that of a person in his twenties. Then you factor in how they drive about two-thirds of the speed limit. And when these behaviors are coupled with frequent, sudden naps and crashing into 7-11s, it doesn‘t leave much actual “driving” -in 2.5 hours, your garden variety Senior Citizen will be closer to home than his or her original desired destination.  And over a long enough timeline, they will actually owe some driving …

T       F

Anyone else need a cigarette?

Conspiracy Theory

Predator Press

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I’ve been a fan of Jesse Ventura for as long as I can remember.

He broke ground in wrestling –it seems to me- by being a likable and flamboyant bad guy. The only thing better than seeing my friends’ wrestling heroes getting pounded to a pulp for their altruism was having it done by a guy wearing a feather boa and pink tights; I delighted in their horror at every opportunity.

But he was unlike most of your standard-issue wrestlers in other ways. In the late 1990s, America began its preoccupation with electing the cast of Predator. And during the traditional mud-slinging process it would come out that Jesse had an unexpected integrity throughout his dubious celebrity; rather than drinking drugging and whoring in his free time as was common amongst the hard-touring wrestling “athletes,” he would spend countless hours on the hotel phone with his wife. Uncharacteristically outspoken for politics, aided by a military background and a peculiar state of moral unassailability, Jesse would eventually be elected as the Governor of Minnesota.

Now I told you all this to set the stage for a commentary on Jesse’s new television series Conspiracy Theory -a show I’ve only seen once so far, but a show I regard as “must see.” And not because it’s good … to the contrary, you will spend every second of watching this show white-knuckled and thinking “This guy got how close to being president?”

Picture your grandfather. Okay? Now picture your grandfather at 6’4”, 270 lbs, wild-eyed and armed with a budget, SUVs, helicopters, the works ... and cameras following him 24/7, to capture every thought he deigns to utter aloud.

Jesse: What is this?

Tiny Guard: This is the HAARP facility.

Jesse: Let me see it.

Tiny Guard: This site is 'Classified.'

Jesse: What is the fence for?

Tiny Guard: To keep out unauthorized personnel.

Jesse: Well, a place with a fence around it suggests to me that you guys are doing stuff in there you don’t want the public to know about.

Tiny Guard: Hence the 'Classified' designation.

Jesse: Why is it 'Classified?'

Tiny Guard: Sir, you do understand the definition of the word ‘Classified.' Right?

Jesse: Hey buddy. I’ve been in the military and I’ve been Governor. I know all about ‘Classified’ stuff. It means you don't want people to know what is in there.

Tiny Guard: Good.

Jesse: So what’s in there?

Tiny Guard: Can't tell you. But it's very cool.

Jesse: Aw c'mon.

Tiny Guard: Do you have authorization?

Jesse: I certainly do. It's from the American public, pal. How do I know you are legit? Let me see some identification.

Tiny Guard: You don't need to see my identification.

Jesse: I don't need to see your identification.

Tiny Guard: This isn't the HAARP facility you're looking for.

Jesse: This isn't the HAARP facility we're looking for.

Tiny Guard: You can go about your business.

Jesse: Oh well then. I guess we better be going about our business.

Tiny Guard: Move along.

Jesse: Sorry we bothered you-

Tiny Guard: Nah. I'm kidding. This is the HAARP facility. I've just always wanted to try that. This job gets pretty boring.

Jesse: Dammit I hate when people do that to me! Are you stonewalling?

Tiny Guard: Yep.

Jesse: Why?

Tiny Guard: Can't tell you.

Jesse: Can't tell me why you are stonewalling?

Tiny Guard: Oh, that? I already told you. This job gets pretty boring. I'm a security guard at the remotest site in Alaska the government could find ... the highlight of my day is picking which tree I'm going to pee on. Sometimes I'll shoot the tree afterwards, you know, so there aren't any witnesses. Or sometimes I'll shoot the tree next to the tree I'm peeing on, and scream Don't make me shoot another one! Man the trees hate that. And then I gotta file paperwork at the office to report why I used all my ammunition on my shift again ... on paper! Isn't that ironic?

Jesse: I think it's ironic we're even still using paper. The environmentalists are right to point out what a waste that is ...we should breed animals to write on. That way, your grocery list actually follows you around so you can't lose it. And the skin grows back for new messages for free for as long as the animal lives.

Tiny Guard: Huh. I could make a whole calendar for trees I want to pee on and shoot that would follow me around? That's a real timesaver. You know, environmentalism only makes good sense if you think about it.

Jesse [to camera]: I’ll tell you what is really strange about this place. Ever since we got here, I’ve felt the oddest sensation that I need to get something.

Camera Man: Really?

Jesse: Yeah. It’s like they are using some kind of mind control device to get us off this site.

Camera Man: What is it you feel the need to get?

Jesse: I need, ah [rubbing temples, concentrating] that thing you put in your mouth. And chew.

Camera Man: Ah ... food?

Jesse: That’s it! [to Tiny Guard] Can I get 'a food' here?

Tiny Guard: No.

Jesse: Did you point some diabolical mind control device at me, making me want 'a food' so I would leave?

Tiny Guard: No.

Jesse: [glowering] Then I guess you know, I gotta do what I gotta do.

Tiny Guard: Yep.

[Smash-cut to Jesse driving away in black SUV]

Jesse [narrative voiceover]: “While my investigation of the HAARP facility has been thwarted by an unexplainable and irresistible need to acquire and consume 'a food,' obvious proof of the deep government conspiracy to construct a weather-controlling weapon …”

[montage of Katrina devastation, tornados, tsunamis]

Jesse [voiceover continues]: ... I got an important clue from the gang of militant thugs I had to overpower at the gates ...

[Smash-cut to Tiny Guard, waving as he recedes in the distance]

Tiny Guard: Bye Jesse! Come back next month. We're having an Open House!

Jesse [voiceover continues]: “... so I’m not done with this investigation yet. These people clearly have no idea who they are dealing with.”

[Smash-cut to Jesse rolling down SUV window]

Squawky voice over radio box: Can I help you sir?

Jesse: I think you can. And I would appreciate a little cooperation for a change.

Squawky voice over radio box: I would be happy to assist.

Jesse: I would like, ah [scratching chin], a Big Mac, large fry, and a medium Coke.

Squawky voice over radio box: Your total is $6.74. Please pull up to the second window.

Jesse: Second window? You know what? That was a little too easy. First HAARP makes me need 'a food,' and lo and behold, you have 'a food.' What’s waiting at that second window? Government sleeper agents? Ninjas?

Squawky voice over radio box: No sir. We will have your food-

Jesse: Ah ha! So you admit to having 'a food' here, eh? What do you know about the HAARP project?

Squawky voice over radio box: Sir, this is a McDonalds.

Jesse: So you say. What’s going on in there really?

Squawky voice over radio box: Cooking, sir.

Jesse: I’m coming in!

Squawky voice over radio box: Customers aren’t allowed in the kitchen sir.

Jesse: Says who?

Squawky voice over radio box: Our corporate offices.

Jesse [peeling out of drive thru, voiceover]: Dammit! As I suspected, the government is in bed with the private sector on HAARP.

[montage of Vietnam, nuclear explosions]

Jesse [narrative voiceover]: "Guided by my instincts, I took my team from the HAARP site in Alaska 3,500 miles away to where the real conspiracy lies, right here on this opulent campus in Oak Brook, Illinois."

Secretary: Can I help you sir?

Jesse: Well for starters, you can tell me everything you know about the HAARP project.

Secretary: Sir, this is Hamburger University … training facility for McDonalds managers.

Jesse: A training camp for raiders on American liberty!

Secretary: No sir. Strictly food.

Jesse: Ah ha! Then how do you explain me going to HAARP and needing 'a food,' and when I went to get 'a food,' I was nearly assassinated by one of your sleeper agents with a radio purchased by you? [Jesse throws receipts onto the desk]. Betcha didn't know Radio Shack keeps good records.

Secretary: This is a receipt from Walgreens. One box of laxatives, and a bottle of Viagra.

Jesse: Don’t try your fancy corporate double-speak on me. What’s going on here really?

Secretary: Training for McDonalds managers.

Jesse: Okay fine, Lady McDeath. Then get me a Big Mac and a large fry-

Secretary: Sir, we don’t actually make food here …

Jesse: So you are admitting on camera that this whole McDonalds franchise is a sham, created to cover up the development of a weather-controlling weapon for the United States government?

Secretary: Yeah sure. Whatever. Hey, am I going to be on television?

Jesse [narrative voiceover as credits roll]: "And there you have it -another conspiracy confirmed. Next week we’ll uncover explore the John F. Kennedy assassination, and how Britney Spears stood to make mountains of cash as a result of his death. I'm Jesse Ventura, and thank you for watching this week’s edition of Conspiracy Theory. Jesus Christ this theme music it too loud. And it’s cold in here. And do we really need all these lights on? Who pays this electric bill … ?"

G.W.B.

Predator Press

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Less than a week after we watched in horror as journalist Muntazer al-Zaidi tried to wang American President George W. Bush upside the head with a leather pair of size 10s, Predator Press has uncovered evidence that he was not, in fact, working alone.

“The forensic evidence of at least one additional shoe-thrower is overwhelming,” says a smart-looking guy in a lab coat. Taking a pen from his pocket, he points at the toe. “This is a very expensive soft leather. Where are the inevitable scuffs? Are we to believe this was some kind of scuffless ‘magic shoe’? Pfft. As if! The odds of such a shoe being hurled and not scuffed are somewhere in the vicinity of, like, a jillion-to-one.”

He continues on to dispute the now well-known footage: “Now watch the shoe tosses themselves. Both are hurled with high degrees of backspin, thusly creating a significant amount of aerodynamic [he makes quote marks in the air with his fingers] 'torque'. This causes what golfers call [he makes quote marks again] 'hook'."

"As you can see in this AutoCAD recreation of the trajectories, both peel back and to the left. This forces Bush to duck toward the right. It's all very scientific.”

When asked what bearing this had on the ongoing $154M investigation he responded, “Absolutely none whatsoever ... I've just never been on TV before.”


He pauses and waves.

"Hi mom!"