The Kennedy assassination....
a new theory.


Many theories have been put forward concerning the events that transpired during a Presidential motorcade in Dallas,TX November 22nd 1963.
None have ever considered the possibility that John.F.Kennedy did not die on that fateful day.

It is our contention, here at the Daniel.E.Locke.United.States.Institute.Of.National.Archival.Legacy.that,in the light of new evidence, President and Mrs Kennedy swapped clothes before boarding that midnight blue 1961 Lincoln.

Bullshit! I hear you say. Please, reserve your judgment until after you have seen the evidence.
At this point we at the Institute want to put aside the question of Aristotle Onassis, and how he would feel had he lived to see our theory validated.......
a little sheepish we would imagine.











Jack steadies his nerves with a cuppa' in the nurses' break-room at Parkland Hospital.
That Chanel wool suit still sporting a skull fragment, looks pretty tight across the shoulders there Jack.











Nurse Cratchett confronts Jack after seeing him exiting the men's room.
Are we coming un-tucked there Jack?











Here we see our boy consulting with renowned plastics expert Dr. Nat Mengele.
Fixing that tuck Jack?












Doc Mengele has a small private clinic outside of Rio de Janeiro.
Here we see him with one of his surrogate mothers.










Earlier theories have hinted at possible Mob involvement......
Here gangster Al Mascapone is seen threatening Jack.
Can you say...... Grassy Knoll?











Jack is plied with liquor...... possibly by Johnson's man, although getting Jack to trip up wouldn't serve LBJ's presidential ambitions.













Mascapone and his Moll comfort Mrs Ruby, a street performer who was attacked by a grief-stricken mob, who saw her mimed performance of a person fighting with an umbrella on a windy day, as some sort of signal to the assassin.
Mrs Ruby, who after finding herself strangely attracted to the First Lady begins to question her sexuality and soon leaves her husband for a female sanitation worker.
Her husband, Jack Ruby, blames Lee Harvey Oswald for his misfortune and soon settles his hash.
Meanwhile.... loosened up, Jack, renowned womanizer can't keep his hands off himself.











Nurse Cratchett and her husband Bob get chief anesthesiologist Dr Howard Stern to negotiate with Jack on their behalf.
They would soon be accompanying the Presidential remains to Bethesda, before flying on to Rio, where they would end their days lobotomized and drooling, in an empty wing of Mengele's clinic.










Jack receives a piece of advice from Howard, "Put your gloves on, your hands are a dead give-away".














Jackie is grilled by the FBI and someone from the Justice Dept.
They ask her if she would like to clean up and change her clothes,
she refuses...... now we know why.

Hubris: a cautionary tale.





Brother Gregory, is a friar in the little-known Pistachio Brotherhood.
The Brotherhood was named for Saint Pistachio (the patron saint of ballerinas) who discovered, named and cultivated the Pistachio nut.
Gregory has been visited by the Christmas Fairy (note the lipstick on his forehead). His eyes still burn with the light of religious fervor from the God-given opportunity he has received to elevate the Brotherhood's commercial status.













He will take the precious water that flows from the spring at the Pistachio monastery and sell it to the people.
He will market this magical beverage under the name 'Pis Water'.
Finally, after centuries of smoldering resentment the Pistachio Brotherhood would stride from the shadow of those 'one hit wonder' braggarts, the Cappuchin Monks with their frothy little cappuchinos, and bask in the glorious light of fame.












Gregory receives a lot of attention at the product release party and he falls prey to the sin of hubris.
He disappoints and then offends his muse the Christmas Fairy, when he tells her that it is 'his' Pis Water that she is drinking, and, that 'he' is "working on a deal with Starbucks".










Christmas Fairy decides that she must save Brother Gregory from himself.
She releases to the press a photograph of Brother Gregory partying with Elvis Priestly by the Christmas Tree, and in his hand she photoshops a Bass Ale.
The ensuing uproar drowns out any positive publicity that 'Pis Water' had garnered, particularly as the Cappuchins launch a smear campaign portraying 'Pis Water' as "The refreshment of hypocrites".
The gutter press join the witch hunt, printing the photo (without challenging it's authenticity) on the front page above a towering headline that screams "BASS IS IN THE FRIAR'.

Nobody wants to drink Brother Gregory's 'Pis Water'.

Gregory is recalled in disgrace to the Monastery where he is demoted to tending the Monastery's maggot heap.

Dehydration: a cautionary tale.




Charlie goes to a party.
Charlie feels a little uncomfortable.
Charlie has a little wine to help him relax.







Charlie has a brainwave.
"If I'm this relaxed and cool when I drink wine,
I'm not going to drink anything else".







Charlie pursues his plan with gusto.







Charlie's still loving life.











Charlie's bloom begins to wither.











Charlie's bloom has now officially ceased to exist.... it is no more.
Dehydration has him in it's dusty grip; his tongue is a sliver of brick,
and when he tried to urinate his member resembled beef jerky.
Fortunately for him, up steps a bloke with water.
Charlie is so weakened at this point, all he can do is lift his head and open his mouth like a baby bird.
Charlie's savior was himself saved by the Guinness Fairy, and now wears a cardboard yoke to announce his intention to lead a life in the service of others.

The Power Of Guinness:


Early one evening, somewhere in Lime Rock.... A hideous, unfortunate, blasphemy of an inhuman Zombie is given a Guinness by the Guinness Fairy.





Within minutes the dark nectar begins to work it's magic, (even the spectators are impressed).





Next morning, our lucky subject awakes to find.... Blarney Stone dust on his tongue, a shamrock in his fist, and his hair a lot shorter.....
Protect yourself from the supernatural...... Drink Guinness!

ELVIS: Still a force for good.

Pussy Galore, (her parent, a Venusian Hermaphrodite who impregnated theirself in a New Haven movie theatre during a screening of Goldfinger) was a happy-go-lucky space traveler who visited Earth periodically.
During this visit she would reawaken some dormant volcanoes to again slow Global Warming through Global Haze, (a pet project of her's since the council of 37 had given her Earth as her- 'Ameliorating the local impact of primative life forms to ensure containment' assignment). An assignment that basically entailed preventing the dominant primative life forms of any given planet, from buggering things up so badly at home that they came blundering out into the universe looking for a new home.






Little did she know that the hearts of men could contain things far darker than trying to convince one another that Nuclear Power was viable and safe for the Planet.
Peligro Biologico, (a darkly twisted individual with a taste for fungi grown next to those rusting, leaking barrels of chemicals, that he would find in the far corners of abandoned manufacturing facilities) had chosen Pussy to be his dark bride.
"Try the cheesecake" he growled, "I made it myself, it's New York style".






Pussy tried to eat P B's cheesecake, little knowing the chemical cocktail it contained within , but each time she tried to take a bite she would eject the cake faster than a Belemic at a birthday party.
"Don't eat that dessert little lady" a voice drawled; it was the Witchfinder General himself, Elvis Priestly.

"Peligro Biologico..... it seems you're always where there's an unattended drink or dessert. I haven't forgotten who contaminated the canned pineapple while I was on the set of 'Blue Hallelujah'".

"Priestly you meddling fool, be careful I don't curdle your hair oil."

"You don't frighten me P.B, now go before I make you listen to 18 choruses of 'Don't be cruel.... to a choirboy's stool'."

And with that exchange, Peligro Biologico slunk off leaving a noxious smell and the varnish peeling from the floor.

"Oh Elvis Priestly, thank you, thank you very much."

WARNING: Tainted Chutney.

Great Barrington, Massachusetts was the scene of large scale public disgust late last month, with the appearance on it's peaceful night time streets of Chutney the Clown.





Chutney, a humourless, leering, gravel-voiced degenerate was spotted in several downtown locations. (This file photo shows Chutney in the company of the ever-present Lil' Chutney relaxing at a party with friends).





Several passersby were treated to Chutney's brand of swaggering insolence as he and Lil' Chutney cruised the town with their companions (a Cat, a Jester & a Demented Doctor).





A Mrs Jerblomee and her husband Haywood were having a quiet dinner together in one of Great Barrington's many fine eating establishments, when, in her words; " I looked up from my Anjou Pear Gorgonzola Walnut salad to see this, this thing leering at me through the window.
It was dressed like a clown but there was nothing funny about it, and it was clutching a doll. It gave me such a chilling look, and then it's eyes rolled back in it's head and it licked the window.... it licked the window!"

Saved by the bell (actually, I think the ringtone was Bach).

Just the other night the Limey was working late, when a ne'r do well burst into his studio brandishing a large knife........



"Do you have Wi Fi" he demanded in a guttural monotone.



Limey shook his head, and in the silence you could feel the villain's cell phone vibrate before it trilled out some switched-on Bach.


Barely able to control his rage at what he saw on the phone's screen, the intruder texted a buy order for a bio fuel start-up, snatched up the Limey's cell phone charger and fled into the night.