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Aside from his reputation for flip-flopping on issues and tailoring every speech to suit the crowd he’s speaking to, until this week Mitt Romney has run an almost flawless campaign if such a word can be used, basically making fewer mistakes than his rivals.

Until this week, when he said he “enjoys firing people.” Now in fairness, Mitt meant that you should get good service from service providers and you should replace them if they don’t provide good service.

Mitt, until he used the word “fire,” had unlike his opponents, admirably, marvelously, common-sense-ically and to a large degree, avoided using flashpoint, controversial, lightening rod words. Until this week. Mitt! Don’t use the word fire. Instead, you say, “we have to let you go.”

That’s the modern, intelligent, politically correct way to say “fire,” although that opens you up to the possibility the person being fired could say, “That’s a lie, you don’t have to let me go. You are not required to let me go. That’s a choice you made.”

Using the word “fire” establishes you as a heartless corporate bastard, which perhaps in reality you really are.

Cursing at inanimate objects should be an Olympic Sport, in my opinion."What the fuck?" my boyfriend shouts. "Fuck you!" His fist comes down hard on a carton of eggs. Yellow yolk and flints of shell splatter the kitchen, barely missing my dress. I feel sliminess ooze between my sandaled toes and wonder if egg yolk ruins pedicures.

He throws the egg carton onto the floor. Although my toes are now fully slimed, I barely flinch. After all, he is not angry with me, he is angry at the egg. Perhaps it did not crack right. Maybe there is a stray shell in the bowl, or maybe the whole batch is rancid. It does not matter; I’ve grown accustomed to his habit of cursing at inanimate objects. I find it oddly adorable, and so I egg him on…

Sex, sex SEX!All your life have you been burdened with an overwhelming sexual desire? That means you want to be doing it twenty-four hours a day. Why? Why were you cursed with this? You’re not happy. Who would be. Since you can't get enough (sex), there's never enough.

This has interfered with your job and career and has caused you to perhaps shun church where you might have eventually (through pleading and sobbing) gained entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Sex! Sex! Sex!

What is it, but a lot of grunting and sweating on other people and writhing around like a couple of worms, you on top, me on top, both of us on top. Me out the window. Running naked through the yard in front of the neighbors.

In this IRREVERENT Exclusive, John Sammon continues his "Interviewing Fascinating People" series, as part of his court-ordered community service.

Sammon interviews the longest surviving severed head in an IRREVERENT exclusive.We are interviewing Loren C. Vandersnarff, the world’s longest surviving severed head. Mr. Vandersnarff, welcome to our Irreverent Magazine studio.

Loren – Thank you John.

Irreverent Magazine – How did you come to be the world’s longest living severed head?

Loren – It was in a farming accident, in Buel, Idaho. I was operating a threshing machine, cutting wheat. The machine hit a bump and I tumbled off. The next thing I knew, I was as you see me here.

Irreverent Magazine – A severed head.

Loren – Right.

Irreverent Magazine – What was your first reaction?

Loren – A feeling of losing a great amount of weight very quickly.

Irreverent Magazine – I see. But how is it you came to survive such an accident? Most people would not have.

Loren – I don’t know. I’ve always been a rather independent, self-contained person. I’ve always been the kind who can adapt to adversity, all I know is, I’m still here and enjoying every new day.

Irreverent Magazine – The accident made you something of a celebrity, hasn’t it?

So Says SammonIt depends on who you ask. Like the Bible, it can be interpreted in different ways. Whether something constitutes a date while holding a phone receiver depends on what you consider to be sex, a date, and most importantly, what you’re doing with your other hand while you’re holding the phone.

If you actually physically lick the phone receiver with your tongue as the party on the other line makes groaning noises or uses disgusting language, I would say that qualifies as an official date. Like the outcome of any successful date performed in person, you’re both engaging in the kind of behavior that is deliciously fun and of which your mother would definitely not approve.

That’s why it’s so fun.

It’s officially a date if just before having phone sex you say to your partner, “here are some flowers at the door. Now we’re going out in my car. Now we’re at the restaurant. Dinner was great. I’m telling charming, witty, funny jokes. Now we’re at a movie. We just went to a bar for a drink. Now we’re going up to your room. The clothes are off.”


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