A wee “certain” story from ye “certain” time.

Long ago, in ye olden times, there lived a certain “secret society”. Now lest dear reader be confused, there was nothing either “secret” nor “societal” about said organization, thought it’s members liked to think there was. Members of ye organization  came from all walks of life, there were tradesmen, craftsmen, laborers, and even one who rode a horse and each day delivered “news and information” from house to house, a job which no one understood or valued. He claimed his job was vitally important, yet oddly he didn’t work on Sunday, leaving one to wonder why the news of Saturday wasn’t important, but we digress. The groups shared traits included a love of grog, ale, eating, and overall sloth. What they held most in common was that they earned most of their income off the King’s largess. That and the fact that none of them were cocksmen. Anyway, one day, a certain member found that his prized possession (other than his donkey) was starting to “act the devil”.  Being a civilized gentleman of the time, rather than quarterhorsing her or stoning her, he caused her even more pain and married her.  Regaling her with woefully long and pointless tales of yore, he hoped to tame the beast. Alas the devil inside her grew, and so, our certain member approached ye Court and asked for ye divorce.  Thus granted, the society erupted in joy for the certain member ( though they were rightly concerned that this may mean he’d be around more often, a not unwarranted concern given his propensity to arrive at functions “grogless” and then proceed to “borrow” grog from other members. Said members began to wonder how one “borrows” grog. Additionally the certain member’s farmhouse had extremely poor breezeways, thus limiting the attractiveness of frequenting said farmhouse on any days between Mayeth and Octobereth.  This was particularly problematic for the member called “Sir Shitsalot”, a member who preferred ye cold winters air on his arse all year round. Additionally our certain member sired an offspring who was fond of jumping on the farmhouse floor and being an all around hellion to company. But we digress). Our certain member, newly unencumbered from the battle axe of an ex wife(newly single, she found fleeting fame as a vocal impersonator of opera singers at Ye Benihana’s Japanese steakhouse) found himself frequenting the Town Faires and Jousting matches each Friday and Saturday night, in hopes of meeting a fair damsel (or at least one that didn’t run away). He was often accompanied by another member, who was famous for his “going problem”  and was thusly known as “Sir Pissalot, but we digress). At about this time, a scandal of no small size erupted. It was to be that our certain person thusly had an audience with the ex sea hag of a current member. This portly member, known for his poor negotiating skills (yes, Sir Bluffsalot), was amongst the most beloved members of the society ( in much the same way the townspeople loved the cobblers son, Sir Duncealot, who repeatedly nailed his shoes to his feet, thus single handedly driving up health care costs for the entire village, but we digress). As such, the other members became incensed with this act of societal treason. One member demanded removal, but he meant for himself, a request for which we could not comply, for we loved Sir Lobbysalot. Another member, Sir Talksalot, requested castration, but was thusly informed he had already been granted such on his marriage day. Still another member, Sir Swearsalot/Sir Delaysalot/Sir Drinksalot (should we keep going?) requested that the member face “death by fucking his face”.  Finally, the leader of ye society, made a decree. He decreed that he couldn’t believe that there was school the day before Christmas eve.  He also decreed that he was afraid of midgets, clowns and carneys, and thusly all future circuses were cancelled.  Lastly, he decreed that the society would  use all of its limited resources to investigate this matter and bring justice to it. And so the certain member faced a dilemma, deny the accusations, run away, or face the music. And so here we sit, hundreds of year later, and wonder, what did the certain member do?

Wikileaks hit Club Sub

Apparently the Wikileaks have infiltrated even a high security establishment like Club sub. Club Sub blog's web server is encrypted with a complex password system (password is: clubsub) and yet they still broke in and intercepted our "wires".  It’s expected these stories will hit the news on Monday morning if Assange isn't freed so that he can continue to poke holes in condoms. Here is the dirt they have on Clubsub-the words in quotes are transcribed directly from the wires.

1. President's dog "Barkley" did not die, confused dog is now called "Cyrus", (hence his poor listening).  Just a "publicity stunt to gather sympathy with the populace".

2. All this time, That Guy was actually married to someone else, but she was "no better"

3. Schemer "actually Jewish"

4. Big Sloppy's poker secrets revealed: "he never bluffs"

5. The Hit Man does not actually teach at St Rae's. "Cmon does anyone really think I wake up at 630am day after day?"

6. Tilt says "best thing he ever did was Geico Car Insurance"

7. Mud reveals "I went on vacation for one week in 1989 and House of Moy closed because of it"

8. The Rat known for "Brevity" at work

9. DV "not actually related" to Hit Man

10. Mailman "loves wife with all his heart", "eff club sub and the VP especially"   "is there any more jack daniels left at this effing communion party?"

11. VP gives "nearly everything" to "Charity". 

12. "Charity" a dancer at a local club, is suing for more child support. Says: "he's a cheap bastard"

13. Clap's wife says “won’t shut the eff up when we're in bed"

14. Fic says "fans who wear nfl jerseys are gay"

15. Club sub Sound  "a huge Ponzi scheme, but unintentionally so"

16. Clout "changing phone # because Da Prez is a nuisance"

The Club Sub Vegas Rider by the VP Frank White

The Celebrity "rider" is the contract that contains all the ridiculous demands that rock stars, actors, comedians and whatever it is that Kathy Griffin is,  have when they perform at a concert or other venue. As expected they reveal the deep rooted spoiled and childish nature of the stars. Van Halen famously requested that all the brown m & m's be removed from a bowl in their backstage dressing room. From there it just gets worse and worse. Paul Mcartney demands 24 bars of ivory soap, everything must be white for JHo, including the flowers, furniture and curtains (though not her stanky brown balloon knot), while Mary J "Bilge" requests a new toilet seat be installed prior to her using the dressing room at every venue. Unfortunately i am not making any of this up. And so, of course, with the aid of many miller lites, we developed the "Club Sub Vegas 2011 Rider of all Riders".  For whoever is booking our hotel, this is to be given to them and demanded that every detail, no matter how ludicrous, must be met, or we will pout. As we have no idea which rooms we will end up in, we demand all of the following items be included in each room. These are the daily requests per room.

6 large black ice coffees per room per day, no milk no sugar no nothing but the nectar of caffeine and ice cubes. Tim Hortans or D&D only. No fancy starbux shit.
Two 30 pack of miller lite bottles on ice per day-however they must be iced so that the labels do not melt off the bottles and get on our hands when we drink. This will be grounds for a tantrum. Therefore the bottles must not actually be located within the water and ice. You have 7  months to figure out how to accomplish this.
Three bags of Burger King. you are to order the smelliest food that BK has so that the rooms will never be the same.
Unlimited supplies of bacon.
One vat of Lard
2 pizzas made entirely out of meat, no dough involved. Again 7 months.
Two Dozen Pair of babies feet. Fresh.
The finest spit cup known to man, for tobacco. It must be designed in such a way that it looks so nice that someone is bound to pick it up and look at it, only to vomit when they see what's inside of it.
1 Jar of Jalapeno Flakes
2 Bags of Jalapeno sunflower seeds
1 Jar of Tucks ass pads
1 Case of Imodium
1 Case of Tums
The toilet must be linked to the music system so that when a member drops a dump, the following two songs play "You've been....Thunderstruck" and "You dropped the bomb on me".  Again you have 7 months to figure this out.
A month's supply of "hard on" hair products for men
Hats, lots and lots of hats
Enough sun tan lotion that if spilled in the ocean, New Orleans Shrimp Captains would just give up.
1 jar Claussen Pickles
1 jar tostitos gross yellow cheese
1 Case of Yeingling beer
1 dozen Romeo and Julieta Cuban cigars
1 Bottle of Johnny Walker Blue
1 Bottle of XO Congac
1 Giant poster of Alyssa Milano, preferably post "who's the boss", but pre "charmed", and definitely pre her dating every single baseball and hockey player.
1 jar vaseline
1 box kleenex (for the crying)
All room thermostats set at 54 degress with an ethnic retinal scan security id so that no one can alter the temperature unless they are portugese with brown eyes.
A single huge sitting fan that is typically used to test parachutes but in this case will be used to cool off some Members because 54 degrees in the room isn't enough
2 sets of ear plugs
"OPP" must be playing 24/7 on a constant loop, in the room and throughout the hotel
2 Cases of bottled water, from somewhere remote, classy, exotic and pure, like Mexico
All pictures on the walls must be of Naked Gun Scenes
All tv's must be playing Naked Gun movies, when not playing Naked Gun, they must be on CNBC between 930 and 4. After that, espn.
Two boxes of deli pizza shipped from RI daily.
One cellphone blocker so that none of our phones work.
An large armed security guard to travel with certain members and keep them out of trouble. Most likely users include The Mailman, Clap, and Yung Flanagan.
Not requested: condoms. Half the members have been fixed. Half are loyally married. Half couldn't get lucky even in Vegas. Many fit all threes overlapping criteria. Hence condoms not needed.
Not requested: 24 bars of soap. soap delays the amount of time a member is either gambling, eating, drinking or sleeping. The showers should be designed to mix soap and water in the shower head so that the spray itself already includes a soap/water mix. Called 'soater". Again you have 7 months. By the way why hasn't anyone thought of this? i may just patent it. oh yeah sucks when you look up at the nozzle and get soap in your eyes. now i get it.
Every time we exit an elevator to leave the building, the PA system must be linked to the music system in the hotel,  and the following song must be heard: "For those about to Rock, we Salute You!"