• This forum is dedicated exclusively to parody, comedy, and satirical content. None of the statements, opinions, or depictions shared on this platform should be considered or treated as factual information under any circumstances. All content is intended for entertainment purposes only and should be regarded as fictional, exaggerated, or purely the result of personal opinions and creative expression.

    Please be aware that this forum may feature discussions and content related to taboo, controversial, or potentially offensive subjects. The purpose of this content is not to incite harm but to engage in satire and explore the boundaries of humor. If you are sensitive to such subjects or are easily offended, we kindly advise that you leave the forum.

    Any similarities to real people, events, or situations are either coincidental or based on real-life inspirations but used within the context of fair use satire. By accepting this disclaimer, you acknowledge and understand that the content found within this forum is strictly meant for parody, satire, and entertainment. You agree not to hold the forum, its administrators, moderators, or users responsible for any content that may be perceived as offensive or inappropriate. You enter and participate in this forum at your own risk, with full awareness that everything on this platform is purely comedic, satirical, or opinion-based, and should never be taken as factual information.

    If any information or discussion on this platform triggers distressing emotions or thoughts, please leave immediately and consider seeking assistance.

    National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (USA): Phone: 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255) Website: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

Cow beats Vegas!


The chief difference being that people cared when Colonel Blake died. Imagine what sitting next to Joe on a flight is like. You're in your seat and here comes lumbering Joe, with his gigantic "carry-on", camouflage colored bag. He plops down next to you and hogs the whole armrest, with his disgusting armpits flopping around. He's calling the flight attendant over and over and complaining about everything.

You're in the air and he has his headphones on and you can faintly hear shitty, tired old classic rock music playing, and Joe is quietly humming along while air guitar-ing. You ignore him, and the humming escalates, interspersed with Joe muttering to himself..."la da dee dee da, minor chord there, la da dee dee dee da, hmmm, that's a B sharp right there...".

"Oh, hey, I'm sorry. I'm a professional musician, and I'm just boning up on some new material for my set list repertoire. Hope I wasn't disturbing you. You know how pro musicians are. My name's Joe, by the way, Joe Cumia. Yes, yes, from the Cumia radio family, ha ha. Everyone always asks that."