State Og: Back In The Saddle
Welcome back to State Og, triumphantly returning after an incident last week in which the entire company fell off a horse and was hospitalized. We're okay now, but we really shouldn't have all tried getting on at once like that. We've learned our lesson though, and won't try it again without a net of some sort. Thanks this week to Dennis "Corin Tucker's Stalker" Farrell, Aaron "elcyberGoth" Young, Jason "Vengeance Otter" Johnson, and the forgiving people at Gus' Late Night No-Questions-Asked Carwash.
Football: The Way It Was Meant To Be
With the arrival of football season, ad campaigns spring up from companies looking to appeal to the sport's massive audience. At State Og, we decided to bypass petty advertising altogether once and for all by buying the NFL outright. To fall in line with State Og's philosophies, the sport will undergo a number of changes as the season progresses, including the following:
Quarterbacks will no longer be allowed to pass the ball, use protective gear, or appear in public without a burka covering their slut faces.
During random games, the roving State Og All Star Team will arrive and rush the field in an attempt to maul as many players on both sides as possible. The All Stars are also likely to rush the audience, parking lot, and nearby gay discos as well. If there aren't any nearby gay discos, the game will be delayed while one is constructed.
The All Star Team reserves the right to maul construction workers.
We support affirmative action, and to prove it each team's cheerleading squad will be required to employ a minimum of one dickgirl, as well as one cuntboy. Go team!
On-field television correspondants will be replaced with mannequins dressed in tuxedos. Each sideline report will consist of a full minute of total silence as the camera slowly zooms in on the correspondant's oddly frightening, featureless visage.
In an effort to take the sport back to its roots, dribbling will once again be mandatory.
So Fresh and So Clean
At State Og our dedication to freshness extends beyond our extensive subterranean cryogenic pods, where Walt Disney, Ted Williams, Ross Perot, and Brett Hurban rest in icy tombs. Indeed the concept of freshness extends all the way to our customers, specifically when it involves cramming delicious treats down their fat gullets. Thus it with great pleasure that we announce the opening of Og Mart, the one-stop edible things superstore, where all of the things are edible! Pretty much!
The food at Og Mart is so fresh that the egg salad is still struggling free of the uteral lining! Most of our competitors sell meat so old it's dead, the goddamn bastards! Not so at Og Mart! Our insane butchers ensure that no matter what, our animal product just will not die, and boy does that ever make it fun to cook!
Og Mart carries an astounding selection of foods found nowhere else. Check out this week's specials:
- Appeels: They're like apples, only they're ALL SKIN! Finally!
- Super Rice Cakes: They're not any tastier than normal rice cakes, but they are made out of Japs!
- Heinz Root Beer: Sweet, sticky, and so thick it takes forever to get it out of the bottle! What a treat!
Come on down to Og Mart today and receive a free colostomy bag! One size fits all, thanks to duct tape!
Self's Little Helper
The road to a better you is a long and bumpy one covered with broken glass and dead fish and barbarian hordes waving strips of dirty Velcro covered with socks and other nasty shit. Thankfully, walking that road just got a whole lot easier with State Og's A Better You, Much Better Than the Current You, Which Needs Improvement.
A Better You, Much Better Than the Current You, Which Needs Improvement is a self-help program with a difference. The difference: somebody else does all the work. Everybody knows that only a moron would actually walk all 22 steps to a better you, and what's the point of doing all that work bettering yourself if you're just going to end up a moron anyway? That's why every A Better You, Much Better Than the Current You, Which Needs Improvement kit ships with a wreck of a human being fresh from the ugly disaster that is our mail room. Every person we provide is guaranteed to exhibit all the trappings of a degenerate, unkempt emotional and physical mess, ripe for a little improvement.
Sit back and relax as this piece of human garbage attempts to take the long, dong-breaking trip to recovery from the comfort of your living room! Yes, you won't miss a moment of the vomiting, drug abusing, bloodletting, face-punching hijinx, not to mention all the stuff that isn't part of the recovery plan!
After a while your pathetic wastoid will sweat out his problems, or possibly die, right in the comfort of your own home! You'll never go to the movies again! What you'll pick up from the experience, other than an odd smell and a worrying itch, is a sort of half-assed knowledge of how to be a better person. You can bank on that, or, ever better, have someone else do it for you!
Og Mailbag
Dear State Og,
A week ago, when I ordered two State Og Personal Androids over the phone, the salesman promised that the robots would be custom built to meet any specifications I desired. After asking for two robots to be built in the form of the Olsen twins, I was a bit disappointed when receiving my order to find that one robot looked like the man on the Quaker Oats cereal box, and the other appeared to be nothing more than a pile of steel wool with a mannequin arm sticking out of it.
The android Quaker stood up and immediately started to shake violently in a seizure that culminated with him eventually destroying everything in my living room. The Quaker-bot then got up and announced that he shakes in the presence of God – who just left the room, because, according to the android, he didn’t like my smell or my “whiny attitude".
I picked up the phone to call State Og Customer Support, but the Quaker-bot grabbed the phone out of my hand, called 911, and then started yelling for help and that he was being murdered. The robot then snapped the phone’s handset in half and declared, “God just came back into the room!” He began shaking again, and yelling, “Please God, get out of the room! I can’t handle this anymore!” He did this until he heard the sound of the police cars outside, after which he stopped moving. In fact, he started to play dead, and his performance was so convincing I found myself spending the night in the county jail. I was released after the coroner tried to do an autopsy during which the android sat up and shouted, “I’m alive! It’s a miracle!” and once more began to shake vigorously.
I returned from jail only to find my house a smoldering ruin. According to the firemen there, the source of the fire was what appeared to be a large lump of steel wool with an arm sticking out of it. It was found holding a lighter. I demand that State Og compensates me for the loss of my house and all of my possessions, or you will soon be hearing from my attorney!
Sincerely,
Frank Cosby
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