Gitmo Wussies Bail Out On Hunger Strike

From a high of 131 hunger-strikers down to 45.

Most commonly-given reason for ending the hunger strike? "I just felt like I could use a good nosh."

Top ten after the jump.

Top Ten Thoughts That Worry Me More Than Terrorists Hunger-Striking

10. When the hell is that new Randy Neuman album coming out anyhow?

9. The guy in the next cubicle is clearly gay and yet has made no efforts whatsoever to check out my junk.

8. I wonder... is there anything I can do to make Scott Baio's life a little bit better? I know I can't do much. But surely I can do something. We all can. If you're not part of the solution of making Scott Baio's life a little bit better, you're part of the problem.

7. Crunchy Kosher Dills were on sale last week two for $1.59 and no one made a good goddamned mention of that to me. Thanks for nothin', guys! Now I have to pay full freight.

6. Okay... when I'm, uhhh, pleasuring myself, my most common sexual fantasy is of me, pleasuring myself. That's not weird, is it? Everybody does that, right? Right?

5. I'm now officially too old to undergo the rigorous martial arts training and lifelong study of the criminal mind to become the real-life Batman. Oh, well. I'm pretty sure I could still be Green Arrow. He's pretty useless. I'll just have to book more time down at the archery court.

4. For crying out loud, I just bent full-on over to pick up a stapler and Homo McQueerbait over there still didn't grab himself an eyefull of my tasty junk. I guess maybe he's into blondes. Like... the Green Arrow.

3. Why do cops all have those great big ginormous moustaches? Do they grow them before they join the force? Is that what qualifies them to be policemen? I'm thinking if you have that huge honking moustache on your face you've pretty much limited your career options to 1, riverboat gambler, 2, law enforcement officer, or 3, NFL defensive coordinator. So, really, once you've invested in that massive swath of subnostril facial hair, you're pretty much forced to be either A, a cardsharp named "Doc," B, a cop named "Rick," or C, a former Miami coach named "Dave Wannstadt."

2. Whither Moesha?

...and the Number One Thought That Worries Me More Than Terrorsts on Hunger-Strikes...

1. Now that gay guy is chatting up the freaking IT dweeb. What the hell is his deal, anyhow? I'm not saying I'm all that or anything. I'm just saying that, next to this sloop-shouldered reject from Dilbert, I'm a freaking young Fred "Hunter" Dryer.

I guess I'll have to "turn it up a notch." Tomorrow I'm wearing the nothing but a mesh lacrosse jersey and Speedos. It is "Business Casual Thursday" after all.

posted by Ace at 12:21 PM

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