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	<title>ScoopGods</title>
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	<link>http://scoopgods.com</link>
	<description>Humor &#38; Satire Written by Two. Read by None.</description>
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		<title>In a Quest to Grow a Shredded Cheese Beard &#8211; Man Buys Kraft Stock</title>
		<link>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/14/in-a-quest-to-grow-a-shredded-cheese-beard-man-buys-kraft-stock/</link>
		<comments>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/14/in-a-quest-to-grow-a-shredded-cheese-beard-man-buys-kraft-stock/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 14 Oct 2011 05:34:29 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chico Jameson</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[News]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[People]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beards]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[cheese]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Kraft]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Papa Murphy's]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[parody]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pod]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[satire]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://scoopgods.com/?p=2223</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[ScoopGods.com &#8211; Terry Jomorgan loves it when he is bearded.  He knows, just as the chatty gentlemen sipping cappuccino&#8217;s on the corner café do, that facial hair provides a plume of studly-ness. Most men will try at least once in their life to grow this curly, coarse facial staredo. Yes, staredo. My word for facial hair which invites the ogling of young perky nubiles and the gyrating stare of established men buffing their Bentley&#8217;s. But most will end up with a face that looks as if they were eating a bowl of honey with no spoon and just as they looked up to say &#8216;Yum&#8217;, someone threw the contents of a vacuum&#8217;s canister right at their sticky chin and cheeks. But Jomorgan can&#8217;t stop at that joy. He is determined to grow a beard which consists of sharp, fresh, cheddar cheese. Shredded cheddar cheese that is. The delicious dairy product favored by most people in this country today. The stuff that makes a taco look and taste like it&#8217;s a fucking wonder of the world. The stuff that when it&#8217;s freshly grated, some will smack kids in the head to move them out of the way just to get a [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>A Focused Study of Sombrero Repair Skills</title>
		<link>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/12/a-focused-study-of-sombrero-repair-skills/</link>
		<comments>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/12/a-focused-study-of-sombrero-repair-skills/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 13 Oct 2011 03:35:01 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Oggy Herman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[People]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Malt Liquor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mariachi]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sombreros]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://scoopgods.com/?p=2200</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[ScoopGods.com &#8211; Maisy Mason was a helping sort of person.  She has lived at 5th and Randolph for much of her life, and it&#8217;s been quite a long life.  Maisy&#8217;s a handsome old woman for an eighty one year old.  During her many years of life she&#8217;s been able to accumulate many talents, more so that the usual person of her advanced age, and now that she&#8217;s in her golden years she never passes up an opportunity to put them to good use.  On this afternoon she was out sunbathing in her front yard when a sad looking mariachi band trumpeter happen to be passing by.  He was looking down at a flattened object in his hands while shuffling along the sidewalk.  Unable to contain herself, the old woman spoke up. &#8220;Hey sonny, why don&#8217;t you come on over.  You know I&#8217;m quite an expert at sombrero repair,&#8221; said the willowy old woman with a subtle smile. This brightened the fellow right up.  His pace picked up to a happy little trot as he walked onto the old woman&#8217;s lawn.  She sat up in her lawn chair and looked at him as her brown skin shone in the sun.  He [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<title>Alcoholic Beverage Names Push The Extreme</title>
		<link>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/10/alcoholic-beverage-names-push-the-extreme/</link>
		<comments>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/10/alcoholic-beverage-names-push-the-extreme/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 10 Oct 2011 05:43:10 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chico Jameson</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Business]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Budweiser]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[industry news]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[satire]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[spirits]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[wine]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://scoopgods.com/?p=2188</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[ScoopGods.com &#8211; When Adler Fels Winery put out a Cabernet wine with the name Big Ass Cab, they knew the edgy tag was going to rock the industry.  In fact, using labels that have shock value has been fairly common as a number of breweries and wineries have gone radical when it comes to naming their newest products. The move has worked for most and profits are up as twenty-something customers are looking for products that provide a bit of attention when they show up at a party or are chumming with friends at the local watering hole. Things are about to get even crazier. Drinkers, get ready for a flood of new wine and spirits which promise to rattle the industry and make liquor store shelves look a little naughty. For starts, a Colorado winery recently announced their newest Merlot, Grandma the Whore. In the Midwest, a small Minnesota spirits company has unveiled Sticky Fucking Cock Vodka and a New Jersey brewery has started pushing Beheaded Eye Socket Banger Ale. All are flying off the shelves. And next year, Budweiser gets into the game with a beverage they&#8217;ve named Dog Raping Beef Ass Muncher Lager. &#8220;The names are amazing,&#8221; screamed [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>Urban Explorers and the Man in the White Suit</title>
		<link>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/07/urban-explorers-and-the-man-in-the-white-suit/</link>
		<comments>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/07/urban-explorers-and-the-man-in-the-white-suit/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 07 Oct 2011 16:06:56 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Sal Paradise</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[church]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[erectile dysfunction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[goats]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[housewives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Meth]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[satanist]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Urban Explorer]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://scoopgods.com/?p=2041</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[When it comes to safety there are two kinds of people. Those who remain busking their way through the workforce. Treating it as their savior with hopes of saving up enough to retire before their erectile dysfunction gets redefined. Savagely arm-chair quarterbacking domestic affairs with obtuse tongues and sludge-infested intestines. Beyond this realm is where the odd balls, misfits, and seekers rain. Doing their best to expand their minds and environment. Taking chances that your average housewife would not dare. These saints of the underworld are called Urban Explorers. Let me introduce you to these unique cybernauts. [Note: These are obviously cyber names.] The eldest is Donny626. He is a 28 year-old pornographic engineer and an overzealous fan of the writer Philip K. Dick. PinkPanther is the goddess of the group. She&#8217;s a twenty-two year old horse massage therapist from Fargo. One might say she looks like a Suicide Girl, except with clothes on. Rounding out this tribe is DogBoy, aka GadgetFace, aka EagleNuts. Most nights he DJ&#8217;s at a strip club called Legends. Coincidentally, this was the same club PinkPanther won second prize at during an amateur contest. I tagged along purely as an objective journalist. What does that [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>My Brush With Mr. Steve Jobs</title>
		<link>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/06/my-brush-with-mr-steve-jobs/</link>
		<comments>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/06/my-brush-with-mr-steve-jobs/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 06 Oct 2011 15:06:42 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chico Jameson</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Business]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[News]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[People]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Apple]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fork]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[news]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[satire]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Steve Jobs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tribute]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://scoopgods.com/?p=2122</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[ScoopGods.com &#8211; I first met Steve Jobs when he opened his closet door in his Palo Alto home to find me standing there, pant-less, and wearing one of his many turtlenecks.  I was immensely embarrassed but felt like a worshiped female goddess wearing the quintessential boyfriend&#8217;s shirt after a night of romantic, tear-flowing sex. And I&#8217;m a guy! Steve wasn&#8217;t so delighted and was actually pretty frightened. I took a quick fist right to the nose and I saw nothing but blackness. The geek knocked me out. When I came around, I was seated in a surprisingly ergonomic chair with my arms and legs free as needed. Oddly, I was still pantless, but there, atop my fuzzy crotch was the most beautiful contraption I&#8217;d ever seen. It was a fork! Not just any fork, this thing had that Apple elegance.  Flowing curves, brushed metal and precisely positioned tines grabbed my eyes and held them hostage until I heard Steve speak. &#8220;I call it the iFork,&#8221; said Mr. Jobs excitingly as he munched on a pork-chop on a stick. &#8220;This is going to revolutionize eating. It&#8217;s going to help people in areas of their lives they never thought possible.&#8221; &#8220;Can I touch it,&#8221; I asked forgetting that it was covering my [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>Breaking: Wall Street Using Shrink Rays to Quell Protests</title>
		<link>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/05/breaking-wall-street-using-shrink-ray-to-quell-protests/</link>
		<comments>http://scoopgods.com/2011/10/05/breaking-wall-street-using-shrink-ray-to-quell-protests/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 05 Oct 2011 05:24:16 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chico Jameson</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[News]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[occupywallstreet]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[satire]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Wall Street]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://scoopgods.com/?p=2104</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[ScoopGods.com &#8211; Breaking News &#8211; The Occupy Wall Street movement appears to be under a direct attack from unknown Wall Street firms. Initial reports coming out of New York City&#8217;s financial district claim that several  huge, complex shrink rays have ascended from atop various Wall Street buildings and are zapping protesters into pint-sized versions of themselves. In War of the Worlds-like fashion, unworldly beams of high-tech mayhem are striking protesters as they run for cover. Reports indicate that nearly 50% of the original protestors are now tiny and aimlessly wandering around trying to avoid street gutters, normal-sized feet and tall curbs. &#8220;This is crazy! The Wall Street bastards are attacking us,&#8221; screamed a man as he ran for cover. &#8220;They are diminishing our might by literally shrinking us. First my pension and now me?!&#8221; Tweets coming from people at the site show that victims hit by the shrink ray are being reduced down to the size of a healthy cucumber. One user posted that the tiny protesters sound like cute little chipmunks now and other, non-zapped participants are fawning over the cuteness of the newly puny advocates of change. If confirmed, this could lead to a disarming of the movement [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>The Gods are at War!  Does Anyone Care?</title>
		<link>http://scoopgods.com/2011/09/29/the-gods-are-at-war-does-anyone-care/</link>
		<comments>http://scoopgods.com/2011/09/29/the-gods-are-at-war-does-anyone-care/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 29 Sep 2011 19:42:27 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Oggy Herman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[News]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[People]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Cereal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Cocoa Puffs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lucky Charms]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Tony the Tiger]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[War]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://scoopgods.com/?p=1962</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[ScoopGods.com &#8211; How could he know that war is at hand?  The young boy sits with his bowl of cereal and calmly goes about his breakfast, unaware of the coming events.  His spoon moves about hungrily as he gazes into the sugary mound with innocent eyes.  The cereal is comforting and reliable.  It sets his mood as ease and give him energy, lots of energy, in order to start his day explosively.  Does he know that war is coming?  Does he even care? The petty princess outside his window watches him as he takes bite after bite.  She stands in the cold with an empty feeling and a hollow soul.  This forlorn lady watches him through the window, morning after morning, in her robe and unkempt hair.  But who can blame her with her sordid life, the failed karaoke aspirations, the lonely coffee breaks between carpet cleanings, the bun in the oven that never was, the judgmental gaze of her private practitioner, etc.  This woman lives vicariously though the child&#8217;s cereal ritual.  But does she know that war is at hand?  Does she even care? Sonny the Cuckoo Bird sits in his underground lab.  People know his more wild and [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>Six Beer Snobs, One Werewolf, and a Little Spooning</title>
		<link>http://scoopgods.com/2011/09/28/six-beer-snobs-one-werewolf-and-a-little-spooning/</link>
		<comments>http://scoopgods.com/2011/09/28/six-beer-snobs-one-werewolf-and-a-little-spooning/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 29 Sep 2011 04:27:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Sal Paradise</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beer snobs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tasting]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://scoopgods.com/?p=1927</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Scoopgods.com - Joe&#8217;s Soggy Beaver Saloon is no place for casual drunkards at four p.m. on a Tuesday. A group of six sporty gentleman sit in a round dimly lit back corner table. The natural light pouring in from the window above gives the scene a hi-eight smut film feel. But there is nothing illegal going on here. These are serious beer snobs at work here with the words to back it up. Together, on mission to define their beer not as a wine taster but as men. Ben Miller appears to be the leader of this gang. At least, he is the one with the best stories. When questioned about his status in the group he replies, &#8220;We are an egalitarian bunch: anarchists, misanthropes, you name it. But we&#8217;re all friends here&#8230;with shark teeth and a taste for good beer.&#8221; These men are not blue collar or white. They are somewhere in the middle. Too smart to dig ditches, but to sane to work against the human potential. Ray James, a thirty-two year old chainsaw artist jumps in, &#8220;Enough talk. Lets drink.&#8221; Randy Wells, a gruff bear of a man is downing a Babylon&#8217;s Revenge Bourbon Stout from the Beer [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://scoopgods.com/2011/09/28/six-beer-snobs-one-werewolf-and-a-little-spooning/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>Tennis Doctors Discover Key To Communicating With Fist</title>
		<link>http://scoopgods.com/2011/09/27/tennis-doctors-discover-key-to-communicating-with-fist/</link>
		<comments>http://scoopgods.com/2011/09/27/tennis-doctors-discover-key-to-communicating-with-fist/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 28 Sep 2011 04:49:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chico Jameson</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Sports]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fist]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[satire]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tennis]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[USTA]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://scoopgods.com/?p=1916</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[ScoopGods.com &#8211; Tennis is typically a sport of independence. There is no team to bail a player out and everything falls on the tennis player&#8217;s ability to get the job done. This has been a huge challenge for professional tennis players for decades and finally the United States Tennis Association [USTA] has done something to help their members deal with the isolation and personal accountability of the sport.  They have discovered a way for tennis players to communicate with their own fists. &#8220;Our players were lonely and I aint the kind of guy who&#8217;s going to just chill on my keester,&#8221; stated Gordon Smith, Executive Director of the USTA. &#8220;We went out and told doctors to solve the problem and they came back with what we&#8217;re calling Fistole; which is the act of communicating with your fist. It&#8217;s made a world of difference to everyone who&#8217;s adapted it.&#8221; Apparently, tennis doctors discovered a way to tap into another dimension where fists have an identity. Using a secret recipe of player sweat, saliva, one heaping dump of a chair umpire, and a note of mint, the doctors create a jello-like mixture which they then put into a boxing glove. Next, they have [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>Relationship Comes to a Screeching Halt When Wife Folds Chase Utley Jersey and Places it in the Drawer</title>
		<link>http://scoopgods.com/2011/09/27/relationship-comes-to-a-screeching-halt-when-wife-folds-chase-utley-jersey-and-places-it-in-the-drawer/</link>
		<comments>http://scoopgods.com/2011/09/27/relationship-comes-to-a-screeching-halt-when-wife-folds-chase-utley-jersey-and-places-it-in-the-drawer/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 27 Sep 2011 19:02:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Simone Moonpi</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sports]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[argument]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[baseball]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Chase Utley]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Gifts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[satire]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://scoopgods.com/?p=1741</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[ScoopGods.com  - Neighbors were not quite sure what happened that Tuesday night when screaming erupted from the Dijakar residence, so our reporters went in to find out.  What we saw would make you send your heart out to the poor special needs person that must live in this house, and then make you want to leave because of the abrasive yelling and hysterical crying. There, in the open drawer of the couple’s bedroom, a Chase Utley Jersey was folded neatly among various work-out shirts.  Our first observation was that whoever had done this can fold very well for a blind person.  Francis, the man of the home, came into the room a moment later and tore the jersey from the drawer.  We watched with half amused gazes as Francis waved the shirt in Helena, his wife’s, face, emitting broken yelps of frustration and sounding complaints about how, “I cannot believe you managed to find your way out of your mother’s womb, because you clearly have no capacity to read or discern value from garbage.”  Helena sobbed harder as he continued, “I just don’t see how I can share a bed with a woman who thinks a Chase Utley jersey belongs [...]]]></description>
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