Is Taylor Swift a Chinese Spy?

Well is she?

Don't answer yet, it's my turn. I have uncovered serious, damning evidence which points to her being a part of the Red Regime. First, what is a Taylor Swift?

People ask me this all the time, and I don't know why, it's weird when you are asked a question like this during a regular conversation about the weather, sports, whatever. However, I always answer them like this: A Taylor Swift is a plant indigenous to northeast Indonesia. It resembles that plant from that one movie. The one that eats people. This usually satisfies the curiosity of those who ask.

My secret sources (a couch cushion and a piece of lint from my pocket) have told me that she has smuggled bugging equipment in her uterus, and she always carries a microphone tucked under her arm pit, along with a cheese sandwich. The microphone is for picking up conversations of raving lunatic fans which is believed by China to carry secret codes for turning all of their tea into potato bread, and the cheese sandwich is for her to consume if she is caught, which would kill her instantly, or give her a bad stomach ache, which will make her wish she was dead, and to the Chinese a symbolic death is just as valuable.

I have informed the state department, along with turning over incriminating videos of me pouring water on a can of chili.

Stay tuned....this has been another episode of the Phoolish report.

The Butt: Sideways Lips in Your Pants that Are Really Fat

Is it just me, or do butts seem like gigantic sideways lips? I don't want to be kissed by one that's all I know.

This has been another episode of the Phoolish Report.

Hippies: Why Do They Smell So Much?

So anyways I was in the grocery store buying pounds of brutally murdered meat, which is my favorite because somehow it seems that meat which has lots of fear in it tastes the best. I looked to my left, which I do frequently in order to keep my neck stretched out in case an emergency comes up where I am forced to look left a lot, and there standing next to the Hippie Hotdogs was, of course, a Hippie. They are the only ones who will get near Hippie Hotdogs, because Hippie Hotdogs are made of recycled cardboard, flowers, and body odor.

I walked up to this hippie and slapped him and said "Why so hippie??" And he said, "Hey man, dude, you're wrecking my groove thing man. Peace." So I punched him in the belly button and said "Peace this Charlie Manson!" And he coughed out some marijuana smoke and died.

I was charged with 2nd degree murder that day, but I'll always remember it as the time I tried Hippie Hotdogs, and they actually weren't too bad.

This has been a Phoolish Report.

My Graduation Speech to Rochester University

Recently I was invited to give a speech to the graduating class of Rochester U., an honor indeed. Here is the transcript of the speech, please feel free to share with those who may need an inspirational boost.

Here is the speech in its entirety:

"Do you think you're better then me?! HUH?! I've eaten poops more relevant then you. Ooh look at you, all fancy with your fancy little degrees and your fancy square hats. You know what you are? Crap, that's what you are.

I remember when I was eight years old, and my teacher told my mother that if I didn't stop chewing on the desks she was going to have to leave me back a grade. Did that discourage me? HUH?? The answer is yes, this is why I never graduated 2nd grade.

This is a story with a moral, class of 2010. The moral is, just because the light is yellow and ABOUT to turn red, that doesn't mean you have to stop. By the law if it's yellow you can nail that suckin' gas pedal to the suckin' floor.

Remember this.

And while you're at it, remember when you first learned how to whistle? I do. My grandfather was teaching me, and every time I tried to whistle I ended up spitting all over him. And he was a gentle, patient man, with nice feet. After beating me with a coffee can he would give me yet another chance. I never learned how to whistle, but looking back I do feel as though I would have had a better chance if I hadn't started out by hocking up a loogie.

When I was in the military I would never ask how to do anything, and when anybody would ask me an important question I would never tell them. Turns out I had badly misinterpreted the intent of Don't Ask Don't Tell.

I wish I was an ESPN guy who did the sports stuff on Sportscenter. I have a few really good catchphrases I would say. For example:
"Whoa he put dat there ball in the round cylinder thing, hoo wa!"
"That guy with the football really caught it! Am I right Bob? Say yes Bob. Say it. Damn it Bob why do you do this to me on national television? You know I am trying. Screw you Bob."
"Himiniy jiminiy puttaroo, Tiger!"
"Smack some grease on that bacon!"
"I just puked out of excitement over that touchdown. Excuse me I really am serious, I have a piece of tomato lodged in my throat right now, and it is really gross because it doesn't taste completely like a tomato, it tastes like a tomato dunked in throw up."

One time I decided to become really, really fat on purpose. I wanted to test society's tolerance of fat people, so I ballooned up to 320 pounds and walked around town pushing people down and accusing them of hating fat people. I really found out how prejudiced against fat people our society is, and it's very sad.

So, in conclusion Class of 2010, I really hate you, and you are not better then me.

This has been another episode of The Phoolish Report.