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Sunday, November 22, 2009

Eating In Africa

Hey There,

Recently, the "worldy citizenship" of the StewStaff has been questioned. In response, we will, in this post, publish a conversation between Chowda and Foxy in Africa, amongst the negros, teaching them how to speak American.

Foxy (exiting the private jet): Whoa! It's so hot here!
Chowda: Yeah, we should crank the AC in the jet and leave the doors open so maybe it'll cool outside down a bit.
Foxy: Always with the best ideas! This is why I love you!

Lunch Time:

Foxy: Phew! Teaching American to Africans is hard! But these Africans will say anything for a tablespoon of this dimetapp! And I mean ANYTHING!
Chowda: Thanks be to Baby Jesus that we brought lunch in the jet. I love McDonalds.

7 Minutes Later:

Chowda: Holy crap! I'm so full, but there's still so much food left! I love the taste but I just can't fit anymore in the belly!
Foxy: Here, watch me. Just chew it to get the taste, and then spit it on the ground near this little mud house.
Chowda: haha! Yeah, it's tasty and fun.
Foxy: hahaha! No instead of spitting this perfectly fine food on the ground, spit it in our drinks so no one can drink them when we nonchalantly leave them where we please!
Chowda: (too busy spitting to relay any witty text)
Foxy: Hey, lets rub the food into the ground so nobody will be able to even taste it!
Chowda: (too busy rubbing food into the ground to relay any witty text)
Foxy: Nice Calves!
Chowda: Thanks! I do squats!
Foxy: No, I'm not talking about your legs, and I know you do squats I'm your trainer. I'm talking about those baby cows behind the mud house! They look as tender as... a juicy steak filled crepe.
Chowda: Yeah, your mom's steak crepes rule.

We Ate That Baby Cow...And He was So Cute, He Had A Name Too, Steven, We Named Him Steven, Then We Ate His Cute Little Tender Body, And He Was Delicious

The First Signoff Was Too Long,
Foxy

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Swine Flu Update: Tracing the Problem to the Source

November, the World is in a state of national crisis:
SWINE FLU PANDEMIC-

"Don't Lick Those Handrails, Jimmy", said President Obama to Jimmy.

CNN Reports:
[Public health departments across the country are quickly running out of H1N1 vaccine and don't know when the next batches will arrive. Public health departments have been flooded with calls from people wanting to know where they can get the vaccine. Michelle Peregoy, spokesperson for the Virginia Department of Health, said the department gets about 700 calls a day, right after she screamed "shit shit shit shit shit".]
My Dear Sugarbabies,
It is with a heavy heart that I notify you that yes, you are going to die. This is not one of those jokes when the person speaking the joke says "of natural causes" after they say your going to die. You are all actually going to die, and if you don't find God before then you're going to hell too. How do you like that. Don't argue with me it'll only get worse.
Fortunately,
The StewStaff doesn't have to worry about dying, because we're smart. We've got the brains. Allow me to explain:
A few weeks ago, every police officer in North America was e-mailed a memo, that stated in rough:
"Sup doods, Its the boss man, you guys are totes gettin the vaccine. I'm enforcing the boss man's pwnage here. I am the pwner. You are the pwned. ROFL! Anywaiz, you all get one (uno) vaccine, and then if there are some left over you will all get a round two and so on. On a more serious note, I feel as if I should speak to each of you about how careful to be during this epidemic. Seeing as we are already pigs, we are at least four times more succeptible to the virus, proven by the scientists at FOXnews. They're always right. Dale from the Morning Traffic should be President/Prime Minister of the WORLD. He's smart! and hes on FOXnews. Do any of you have that on your resume? Didn't think so. I digress, seeing as we are already Pigs, we are more succeptible to the virus. We need to get in the best physical conditions of our lives, men. We need to fight this virus. We need to pop the kneecaps off the virus like Srgt. Steve did last week to that latino kid at the mall. (Nice one bro). We need to take this virus behind the school and get it pregnant, than leave her...she's used goods now. As brobros, we need to band together, and dickpound this virus into submission. You are all equipped with your flashlights. We had to sell the guns to the negros for money for the vaccines. C'mon, it's not all bad. Have you ever heard the Geto Boys? Their flows glow!
Lates Playa Playas!
Love, the Boss Man"
Well, needless to say, once COWda and I got ourhands on this information. (The reason Chowda has been called COWda is because he has hurt our relationship greatly, and as all our readers know, emotional scars take the longest to heal.) We had to do something about it. We can not die. We will not die. The Stew must go on. For the survivors, the police officers, and the mexicans who are used to living in close proximity to livestock. Chowda found a police man, the piggie tried to use his flashlight, but Chowda was like, wayyy faster. Confused as to where Chowda went, the cop ran away, as all good cops are taught to do. Leaving out all the boring slop, Chowda found the secret stash of vaccines, injected me once, and himself fifteen times. He's sleeping it off. He's been sleeping for a whole forty eight hours. Like an angel. It almost looks like he's...crraaaaaap.
His Pulse is Weak, Kinda Like Your New Shoes!
Love,
Foxy

Monday, November 16, 2009

Texting During the Holocaust

texter1: Hey Goldstein!

tester2: Hey are you in the camp yet?

texter1: Yeah man, just got here yesterday!
texter1: lolz, dood this Hitler guy is crazy!

texter2: lmao! You're telling me! I got twenty lashings today! Who am I? That guy who those Christians wrongly believe is God's son?
texter2: lol....you n00bz are all the same.

texter1: Well hey, at least we still have Hollywood!

texter2: yeah...yeah we still have Hollywood.

Super Bueno, Friends

Dear Misters and Misters's Lady Friends,
I have to release my inner ocean of angst to you good non-mexican people.

My mother died when I was born,
My dad said my mother was so happy to see me, she died.
My dad was not happy enough to die when he saw me...
I have been questioning the depth our relationship for the past thirty seven years.

Heartbroken,
Chiko

Dinner Language Etiquette for Dummies and Negros

Heard you Miss the Peaches to your Cream,
As a negro myself, I have often encountered questionable situations in which my language choices have been compromised. Mostly, I find that my language is challenged at distinguished dinner parties. Then, one night while sleeping in the nude with no blankets on because my rippled muscles keep me warm (my body is like a ripple chip, you know its delicious, but you also know I'm going to be spending the next three weeks in your bum), it hit me, I should write a book about all this debotchery! So I did. Here's a tasty niblet of: How to Use Words Good, by Foxy.
Chapter 3: LEARN THE DIFFERENCE
[Some words such as "Butt paste" and "Proctoscope" are only sometimes okay to use all the time, so use your own discretion. Don't use the word "bifrocate", it is a fickle mistress. There are many words you have to be careful with, it is completely unacceptable to say someone 'Gurgles Diapers', unless of course you have a picture proving that that statement is true. As far as the words "butt paste" are concerned, be sure to only use it if you are speaking about a skin ailment of sorts on the rear region, or else it could make you look unintelligible.]
Whoa! If that isn't wisdom, I don't know what is!
BUY IT...
Foxy

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

In Memoriam

Solemnly,

On this 11th of November, it is time for the living to commemorate the brave lives lost years previous, in the great Dinosaur wars. Looking back, I don't think that anyone would have lived if it weren't for Galacticus. The number of times he saved I alone outnumbered that which could be counted upon all my fingers and toes. I miss you dear Galacticus, friend, and brother. In another life I hope to pay homage to you, and somehow repay you for your ultimate sacrifice. My metaphorical turtle dove, I will love you always, adieu, et bon voyage.


Dinosaur, My Heart is Sore

Oh Dinosaur,
So much more,
Than a reptile with big ass teeth

Oh Dinosaur,
I love you more,
Than any other could bequeath

Oh dear Dinosaur,
If an angel were to compare itself to you it would become confused as to which of you were the angel and this unlikely yet comical scenario would end with the death of an angel, unfortunate, yet an accurate portrayal of how mighty your power.

Memorial Poem by: Margaret Atwood

Lest We Forget
The Dinosaur Wars of 1993 C.E.
Here shown is King Galacticus the majestic Dinosaur King, with all mighty power bestowed from the divine in 1982 year of our Lord. With the slashing power of Jehovah himself, and the calculated instincts bequeathed upon him by Allah after the defeat of the Dwarf Lord Gimli, supported by the treaty of Poutin-Genish at the fall of the Iron Curtain, and approved by both the Geneva and Third Lateran Councils. May King Galacticus ravage eternally throughout the developing world. Amen.

We Would Now Like to Ask for a Moment of Silence,

-Foxy and Chowda

Bubba Barbies

Hey you!
In recent news, the manufacturers of Barbie products have launched production of an entirely new and innovative doll. The new doll will still in fact, be "Barbie", but not quite as we know her. Barbie will be weighing in a 305 this Christmas season, and she's not apologising. Yes, these dolls will be marketed with the title of Barbie's real name, Barbara Millicent Roberts. Yep, Barbie has a fat chick name. What on Earth were Barbie's parents thinking. The Barbie website has also added that Barbie's new friend will be named Ronda Russ, and the fatty twosome will be undertaking a whole new journey called: "Make Brownies in this Plastic Oven, and if the Kitchen gets too Hot use your Flippy Flappy Arm Skin to Brush Away Your Sweat". That catchy title is courtesy of our friend Chiko Rodriguez, who for the longest time has been religious Barbie collector and investor and has finally been allowed some input into the company.
Chiko was unavailable for a personal interview but upon calling his rented basement he gave the statement: "Me encanta Barbie pero no tengo baño de trabajo".
This translates roughly to: " I love all the Barbies but I do not have a working toilet.
Upon further request Mr. Rodriguez told us that indeed he does have other characters in the works including a replacement for Ken named "Anderson the Asthmatic".
"Será un éxito de mierda", "He's going to be f****** awesome" says Rodriguez.
The StewCrew is especially looking forward to Hot Hannah the Hotel Pool Attendant, we bought new boner pants for that exact occasion. Get working Chiko!
These Boner Pants are too Tight!
-Foxy

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Holy Canolis!

Hello Friends,
Today, the Stew Staff stumbled upon the cutest thing to have ever graced our eyes, and its name...I mean his name, is Khagendra Thapa Magar...shockingly the same name I planned on giving my son before his mother stepped in and named him Bryce. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. You know you're setting your child up for failure when you name him Bryce, and if your name is Bryce and your reading this...screw you. Seriously, close this window and don't even think of coming back.

Anyhow, I digress. Back to Khagendra. Khagendra is fifteen years old in this picture and...he's totally awesome. His favorite activity is...basketball. He's not making this easy on himself. He wears awesome novelty sweaters...but he doesn't know that the first three letters of the alphabet on his sweater are incorrect in order...Nepal's education system is ranked 196 in the world...and there are only 195 countries. Things Khagendra is good at: fitting into small places, being an angel, wearing tiny clothes, and the Stew Staff has noted he has the perfect framework for a tap dancer. Beautiful bone structure. Later Gator,

Foxy

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Voices of Reason!

"Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life."
-Brooke Shields

Whoa, shut the hell up Ms. Shields.
-Ghandi

Voices of Reason!
Foxy

P.S. Return my calls...I love you.

Monday, October 19, 2009

1 Tip to a Flat Belly

Admit that you don't have a glandular disorder

The ridicule you will endure for being a disgusting FATTY will give you the motivation to get on the damn treadmill.

Love you, popkin,
-foxy

Thursday, August 13, 2009

The G stands for god.


Just wanted to let you know, if you still care, we still care.
Love,
The Stew Staff.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Meet Jim Everybody!

To All of My Savage Sexual Heroes from Nam:
It is to my furious pleasure that I introduce to you a man who has been with me every step of my life. He coerced me to stand up when I was still sitting down to urinate at age 12. He taught me how to play baseball, but more importantly, he taught me how to feel. Without further ado, lets meet Jim Polanski!

Say Hello Jim!

Your hair looks like tickles!

Anyhow, Jim recently discovered he has been living an incredibly materialistic life. How did he come to this conclusion? He found himself thinking of his couch while he was humping his mattress. Bad Business Jim. Bad Business. Even I could have given my mattress all my attention. But that's all behind him now! He said no to his life of the materialistic and said "hey there sugar tits" to a life of calm, tranquility, and inner lucidity. That's correct, he became a Peruvian monk with a no nonsense attitude. Shall we say a picture utters more words than words do?

Say Hello Peruvian Jim!

Whoa there buddy! Nice Colour! The sun has served you bountifully!

But you better stop eating the rice down there, I wouldn't want you looking too good!

Well that's Jim's story, what's yours maggot? Send it to Pigeonstew@gmail.com , and maybe we will encourage your writing escapades, or maybe I'll never check my email. It's a toss up.

Maziltov!

-Foxy

P.S. Until next time, ponder this,

World War One?

or World War Fun?

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Chuggo, Our Friend and Partner

Hello Fellow Pursuers of Greatness,
It's me...Foxy. Recently, Chowda and I have begun to settle down, relax, and enjoy the finer things in life in a more refined style. These things include two main sections:

1) Golden Brown Spam Roll Crescents
2) Chuggo's eloquent word weavery.

Now, for those of you who are not familiar with Chuggo, stop reading now, because once you hear his voice, you will never be able to avert your eyes from his. Whether it be capturing our hearts through his magniloquent staff, his fervid features, or his poignant conjecture on the meaning of life, each individual who sees his face immediately knows he is their soul mate. Not only does his highfalutin disposition reak of confidence, but his clothing also reaks of OldSpice. In my opinion, the only thing that could make OldSpice better, is a highfalutin disposition.

Chuggo's real name is Archibald Farley, and he is of Prussian descent. His interests include diamonds.

If you want to here his sweet tunes look no further. It's right here.



Or if you want to see his website visit www.stevewilkos.com

Keep Expanding your Horizons,
-Foxy

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Martin Luther King Jr.

Hello Noodle Foodle,
Foxy Reporting. Sorry about my absense, I'm just so Goddamned famous. Anyways, I recently got to talk to Martin Luther King Jr. from beyond the grave. Yeah, it was good I guess. I asked him some very poignant questions that I knew you would all enjoy!

Q: If you had a girlfriend, what would your pet name be?
A: I cover her face in Mountain Dew and call her Dewbacca.

Q: Do you have a nickname for your penis?
A: Yes.

Q: Favorite Candy?
A: Lambchops.

Q: What is your nickname for your penis?
A: Snickers. As in the chocolate bar. Yeah. Hungry? Grab Snickers.

Foxy: Well Martin, surprisingly, thats all I have to ask! It's really been an honour ma brotha', and hopefully we will be homies fo' sho', flo.

This is where Foxy's name will be remembered forever in the pages of history, one quote, from Martin Luther King Jr.

"Fuck you Foxy, You ain't no nigga, wonderbread, motha' fuckin' saltine cracka'"
-Martin Luther King Jr.

Truly an outstanding man, and an outstanding lover. Fare thee well Martin, and thankyou for setting me straight by calling me 'wonderbread' and 'cracka'.

Enjoy that, it's fresh
Your Blossom Bum,
-Foxy

Sometimes Diverse Is An Understatement...

Hello my Shmoopsie Cuddle Puffins,

Here is the scoop:
All your questions shall be answered on this night. I have been receiving hundreds of emails, per hour, from you, the viewers. These emails are delightful and very intelligent, not to mention your Byootifull ability to misspell more frequently than we do. Of course you are probably assuming that most of these emails are January showers of praise and invitations to act in dirty ways (you have no clue how many grandma's want me to help them plant daffodils and how many sexy girls don't talk to us). You are too right, But more importantly you have been asking about who it is that runs this site, our employees that is. So I've decided to reveal the life and times of a valued member of the team. He is also straight. Hmprh.

The Life and Times of: Señor Chiko, The Mexican Who Can't Speak American.

Chiko Rodriguez Lorenzo Rodriguez Shaquille Harrison is a 32 year old hairy male who resides in Essex, Ontario during the summer months, picking tomatoes and doing random freelance work during his spare time. The rest of the time Chiko spends his in his home land of, you guessed it, Purple Seal, North West Territories. Chiko also owns property in Milan but he doesn't like it that much. Chiko is a third generation Latino-Canadian of the Great White North. His ancestor, Maria Rodriguez Sanchez, arrived there after she was left for dead by the rich American gold prospectors who brought her along to clean his tent. And by tent we mean penis. Chiko's mother was a pro-stitute.

The reason she was left was because the prospector had cheated on his wife with Maria and did not want to be given a dirty look by his priest. Of course for the sake of cliché Maria was pregnant with his baby triplets (yep, hold on tight cause there is more where that came from.) Two babies were eaten by the third while in the whom, thus creating Jenny Craig Rodriquez Harrison, of course the Craig Harrison was named after her father. Jenny Craig lived a modest Inuit lifestyle after moving to the North West Territories with her mother, a successful attempt to escape the Ice Dragons of the North, (scary shit, long story, maybe another time, but not if you keep up that attitude mister) One fateful night Jenny went to a bar where travelers often go for sex, aka a brothel, she went to relax. That's when she saw him, Rodney Shaquille. He was the most oddly coloured man of 45 she had ever seen in her life. He was a lightish brown, not quite white, not quite black and certainly not Indian, but definately a homosexual. Of course curiosity got the best of her, and Rodney had never experienced love making with a woman so he was down for anything. He left to return to his work as a subway ticket vendor in a poor part of Toronto, as he was in the north as a result of a prank pulled on him by his white friends. Of COURSE, 9 months later (I told you there was more, and there is even more of more to come,) A young boy was born. Jenny named her son Chiko Rodriguez Lerenzo Sanchez Shaquille Harisson.

Growing up Chiko was teased by many of the Inuit children for his very mixed, very homosexual, yet native lacking heritage. He was called many names such as Jerk, Idiot, Narwhal Fucker and of course, on account of his Black Mexican ancestry and unfortunate partial last name, "Dirty Sanchez" (he was also called Jew, which is unrelated because he wasn't jewish it was just a good name to call him). This teasing caused him to abandon the family name and replace it with a second Rodriguez.

After a long, abused childhood, full of alcoholism, paint, gas, and baby huffing and no female contact, Chiko made his way to Essex County to make a new life picking tomatoes in the tomato capital of the world: Leamington. Us at the Pigeon Stew found his ad in the "Classified" section of the Essex Voice, next to the escort service ads. It read "Wilin to doo any extra werk at all."

Foxy, who was getting way too famous and had recently discovered masturbation, had a lot to do, and I am an artiste, so we figured, "hey, this dude could work!" and we hired him on the spot. We pay him in Carling brand beer and house him in a box by the high school. He is quite thankful, and is actually sweeping the grass off the summer snow covered side walk out front our house. He's wearing a white Def Leopard Shirt and white paint covered pants (the paint is from when he painted my deck, not art,) He looks ridiculous! Hahaha those zany mixed mexican homosexuals...when will they learn?!

Oh and P.S. Chiko is completely white, skin that is. He got the white genes from his dad. He does have a good mexicano moustache though. And the moral of the story is that homosexuality is genetic.

Enlightened? Yeah...that's what that feeling is.

Love, Chowda Chops.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Hope No One Sues Us

Hello, dear sexual partner,
It may seem that us at PigeonStew are seeming to get lazy lately, particularly with our regular witty posts. Well you seem to be seeming quite seemingly wrong! We 've been busy making PigeonStew Products! Some books written by Chico, Milk names PigeonMoo, PigeonGlue, well, you get the idea! And with this exam season, we have been forced to be out sleeping with our teachers on top of our vigorous work! Mr. Masterson happens to be incredibly sensual (Thats Gary Masterson for those of you who don't know him, but something tells me everyone does).

Anyhow, in order to make up for our lack of attention to our grand total of 347, 589,294 viewers We have a tasty little tidbit for you!


YUP! Believe what you've heard! That's it, a possibly consistant segment all about the drunken escapades of our dear alienesque friend Earl, no relation to the character played by Jason Lee on that NBC t.v. show that apparantly tanked recently.

Hope your weiner is as hard in excitement as your sisters breasts were moist when I covered her accidentally in Fruitopia...some call it accidental arousal, I call it fate. Like newly levened bread with marmalade, or lynchings and mississippi, breasts and fruitopia were simply made for eachother!

Your Pants are too Tight,

Love,
CHOWDA CHOPS!

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Cool People Who Also Happen to be Black

Hey Honey Button,
Ever wondered why you never meet any cool black people? Of course you're not, because they're all cool. Let's take a peeksie shall we, negro?


First Up,
Some call him Black Moses,
I wish he would part my legs like he did the Red Sea,
The one and only, Isaac Hayes

Why is he so good? Maybe it's because he's huge "down there"...or maybe it's because he found a nickname in the bible.

Next! Barry White. His last name is white...but he's not.

Who else is as fine as wine? Oh I'm not sure...them?

4 to 1...what a ratio.

I would also like to draw attention to the man on the far right...all I have to say is...hot damn.

So now your probably thinking...sure they look nice, but they probably make a mess! Well your wrong! They're just like you and I! They brush their teeth, dance, and sometimes drink dimetapp mixed with malt liquor...but don't act like you haven't on occasion. You should make the first step, talk to your local community's black man about "your piece" or "how you roll". They are sure to befriend you!

Don't you dare call them monkeys,

-Foxy

*PigeonStew and Foxy do not find racism funny, this is strictly a satirical document to show how truly ridiculous, prepostrous, and outlandish racism really is. Foxy, of the PigeonStew team also happens to be of Negro descent and skin colour, therefore, if you have a problem, shove it.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Happy Hepatitis Day!

Hello dearest!
It's hepatitis day! So enjoy it! Share a needle, lick handrails, share your blood with strangers, it's all okay! Here are some hepatitis facts that you've probably never heard because I just made them up...

  1. Fifty-cent has an unreleased track called "Hep. B", with the lyrics:
    "I neva got vaccinated for hepatits B,
    now hepatitis B is deep insido me...gangstaz"
  2. Canadians invented the zipper, the slinky, and Hepatitis A. (think about it...think about it)
  3. You can get hepatitis from goats, my apologies to all those who made goat pinatas (refer to goat pinata post)

That's all for now, keep licking those handrails!

-Foxy

(with street cred. to one of the sneaky piglets)

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

We live in Mississippi!

Hey sugar blossom, it's your boyfriend...Foxy.
We've been getting alot of hate mail lately, so we decided to post a little tidbit so you know we're still one of you, and love you all very much. We miss you all,


Pigeonstew,
Friends First,
Confederates Second,
Since 1861.

Look it up,
Foxy

Monday, May 25, 2009

Do you ever feel like this?

When words and gestures don't quite cut it...



Just puke on their face.

Love,
Chowda Chops

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Long Winded Sadness

I know that these troublesome pigs and their cest pool of germs seem to be a recurring theme in the media this past month, but we figured since pigs are an easy thing for all of our Pigeon Stew readers to relate to, we should stick with it.

Now, if you happen to be 16 or 17 and in grade 11 (which we believe 3% of our demographic is) and you happen to be taking biology than you have probably recently experienced the miracle that is dissecting a newborn piggy. An exciting, exhilarating event it is! Here at the stew we really love the whole concept of destroying animal carcasses (See goat piñata article)! Golly gee nothing gets us off faster! Now I’m sure most of you were told that the pigs are still-born fetuses who didn’t survive, and you are NOT allowed to take any of the body parts home...well rules are made to be broken. And all that malarky about Piggy McPiggerson being a still-born, that my friends, thank the gods of humor, is a lie. The pigs are infact bred and than brutally murdered in order for us to experiment on, of course, in the wretched name of science. Quick note: if it was in the name of a god then that would be a whole other story. I personally sacrificed Turkey to Kwame Kilpatrick...noticed how I said "Turkey" and not "a turkey", I sacrificed a country bro.

Now while the whole issue sounds unfortunate and hilarious, we put our superior minds to the tes and found that it could be much more ufortunate and hilarious. That’s right, here at Pigeon Stew we’re crazy mofo bastards and just love to beat off on a dead horse—or shall we say pig, for morbidity's sake?

Anyhow, this is what we concluded. Mama sow is a sweet dear innocent piggy that we get from the farmers in the famous novel, Charlotte's Web, yep, we also get Babe from the classic movie "Babe"...but that's another story in itself. In the van, heading back to our farm we tell her stories of the great days to come. We speak of the many prosperous babies she will have, not to mention the lavish sweat pig slop made of truffles, caviar, and seasoned with ample amounts of our own sweat and blood. Then, when we get to the farm, the pig is surprised to find a disgusting piggy brothel. Here we whore out the young sow, along with others much like her, to disgusting and morbidly obese hogs with severe drug issues. Us humans now relish in the fact that we are way smarter than these pigs, and we crack a bruski like the brohans we are. During the degrading sale of the sow’s body we ensure that she becomes pregnant. Then, while we wait for the pregnancy to run it’s course we assure her that we will take care of her babies and that this was a horrible mistake, once again displaying our cunning pig-tricking abilities...HAR! After months of pampering and reassuring, the piglets are born. At that moment the babies, who have a striking resemblance to the hog that used their mother, are taken, rubbed into the sow’s face and then murdered on the spot. Shortly after the fresh piggy corpses are shipped off for half baked teens to poke around the insides of. When interviewed after being told this story one Indian student asked one question: “Where is the justice!?”

I’m not sure Kumar, I'm really not too sure, let’s ask the audience.
Do you know where the justice has gone? Please tell us your thoughts on our facebook. Our name is Pigeon Stew...like the blogs name...actually exactly the same if you can't find it, you're so dumb.

Disgruntled,
Chowda Chops.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Randy Jackson and his Dawgs

I apologize, this post has absolutely nothing to do with Randy Jackson, we used his names for ratings. What we're really talking about here is...

Simple Tips to Kill a Dog!
Do you have a pesky mutt? A dirty pup? Or simply a pussy hound? (not that kind)
Well look no further! Because I have tips that will make killing them easier!

Tip #1: Submerging them in water confuses them
Tip #2: Doggy + Electricity = Inviting the latino neighbours over for barbeque
Tip #3: Invite Rachel Ray over...maybe the dog will kill itself so you dont have to get your hands dirty
Tip #4: Tell the cops it was merely a domestic dispute and you had no intentions to hang your dog from the rafters, nor do you have any idea who could have put a noose around your dogs neck...call Haratio from CSI: MIAMI.
Tip#5: If you plan on eating it, eat only the hindquarters and the fleshy groin meat, not only is it the most nutritious, its the most delicious

Well, I hope this has helped! Be sure to write! Bye!

So long...LOVER
-Foxy
(PigeonStew does not in anyway condone dog murder, the PigeonStew team only eats tofu because we don't even condone plant murder, thus they do not eat vegetables and fill up only on raw creatine powder. But back to the subject, don't really kill your dog and say it was our fault because we told you to, sit down with your dog and talk through your differences like a gentleman, you made an oath "forever do us part"...remember?)

Monday, May 11, 2009

Pigeon Stew Informational Seminar

Hey,
ever wondered where the G-spot is?

ME TOO!

No but seriously, we have loads in common. Anyways, we have put together a little informational tidbit on how to find this little love muffin, and caress the inner depth of the lagoon until the spirits beg for timeless release. To start, you will want to pretend your an animal, maybe a neanderthall, or something really good like a Troglodyte. I prefer to pretend I'm a latino, but to each his own. ONWARD!

I have broken down the tedious journey into several steps, having this information on the internet is a small step for man kind, and a large step for your self esteem.
  • Firstly, enter the forbidden golden dunes, this is best performed if your subject is sleeping. Next, follow the first rusty chain you find until you reach the everlasting stream, traipse in the stream, it's refreshing, some may say rejuvinating, you can't describe it, all you feel is the colour blue.
  • Soon, you will see the great rock, Arstright. He will guide you to the next point. Trust him, you will find that all speaking rocks are worthy of your time, and you ask to meet his people. He says "No."
  • Arstright will hand you a key, and you will be left on your own to find the rest of your way. Be sure to leave enough time for goodbyes before Arstright magically disappears.
  • You will find a locked chest in Arstrights enchanted forest, tweak the knobs, use your key, you will then posess 3 copper coins. (gold got really expensive after the first three guys used this technique so now we steal copper from electric wiring and melt it into coins for this purpose, don't complain)
  • Exit your subjects anus (what did you think the golden dunes in step 1 were?)
  • Enter the forbidden fortress, pay the nymphs your copper coins for safe passage
  • You will find a rough bumpy patch...that's not it, you've gone too far, start over.
  • Use the skills you acquired in Mordor to highten the sensuality
  • Reach further, you will find the G-spot on the inside of her belly button.

What? You don't believe me? Fine! Enjoy NOT pleasuring anyone to their max capacity...and nice hair by the way.

Pricks...

Ishmael, Foxy's Jewish Friend

(They taught us in Hebrew school...I swear!)

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Sappy Mothers Day!

Hello fellow nymphos,
Today is a terrible day, it is the day that middle aged females all over the planet are told to shamelessly hang their heads in shameful shame. Today is the day which we use to remind them of the terrible thing they have done, through taunting and often physical abuse. ...thus making them mothers. We will not disclose what this one rule is, because this forum is not a "let's learn about religion" forum, if you wanted that...screw you.

Today, I sadly report, is mother's day. I expect that the suicide rate shall peak today around 2 PM Eastern Time, both in the middle age woman demographic, as well as the slightly funnier yet slightly more depressing demographic of those whos mothers died in lebionic rituals that we will no longer speak of...they're disgusting.

How ever all is not grim. For I was not born as a result of sexual reproduction. I was born in a much friendlier fashion...and it's not through the bum...



As a result, my egg was fertilized externally by my father, Sperm Doner 1134-A7, with a geriatric hose. And that, my friends is why me and my mom are spending the day together smiling, getting lost in eachother's eyes, maybe some frivolous dancing, and drinking the blood of those who killed themselves.

Happy Mothers Day Dumbasses,
With Love,
Chowda McChowdaChoppenstein

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Man I Want Some!

Everybody Stop!
It's fresh, it's new, plus everyone on "The Hills" is doing it...hellz yeah!
You can get it anywhere! Your local smoke shop, your girlfriend, or doing such routine things like yoga near your local garbage dump. It's insanium. I heard it's the new opium, and everyone knows how popular opium is. It's going around like a portly yet curious thirteen year old boy at a highschool party, his name is Gary, he got some alcohol in him, and he's going to town!

To top it off, it's from our favourite place to love, as long as the natives aren't around. You guessed it! The land of the beaners, Mehico! This one is a big'un boys and girls. It's a mutated form of Swine Flu. Where if you're from Jerusalem it's called Mexico Flu (obviously because "swine" flu is not Kosher, and therefore causes serious problems for their whole "no pork dudes!" rule). If you're from any other country it's called Hybrid Flu, because it's a combination of Swine, Avian and Human Flu! (Yeah...hybrid, like George Clooney's car, that man ages so well) Now I don't know about you, but I want in on this! Human intelligence, wings of a bird and the, loving stamina of a pig! Oh and if you live in the States, or if you're Mr. Obama it's called F1 H1, or something super classy like that... just like him...saying "look at me! I'm president!" With his fancy words and skin colour. They think F1H1 is less terrifying...I disagree, everyone has a nice memory of a pig, snuggling, loving, just truly beautiful animals, whereas F1H1 reminds me of the Holocaust, thanks Obama! It sounds like something grown in a freaking test tube in Obama's secret laboratory, just to lower the population of the middle class. Well if you want to get in on this crazy new train of excitement and fast living, I'd get out and start licking handrails and doorknobs immediately, not to mention hang out in as many tight crowded and congested places such as buses, Chuckie Cheese's, and your local Meth Addict Clinics.

Check out the new craze's poster, did somebody say rad? Oh sorry, that was just the wind proclaiming its love.


*note that symptoms of Hybrid Flu are similar to symptoms of Pigeon Stew Flu, making it pretty ... shall I dare say it? Pimptastic.

Until later,
Stay classy San FranDISCO


Love,
Chowda Chops and Foxy ( its sleepover night)

Friday, May 1, 2009

Serving Up Pork!

I regret having to inform you of such horrible events,

As you may know, the mexicans have pulled a fast one on us Righteous North Americans. The Swine Flu is a pandemic effecting the entire world, and maybe you have it. Here at Pigeon Stew, we employed our friend who you may have heard of, Chiko Rodriguez Lorenzo Rodriguez Shaquille Harrison, to draw up a little diagram so you friendly Stew readers would see signs of the disease and stay wary of these situations. Take a peeksie!



Holy Crap! Scary, Scary! Well, I'm off for Pork Chops,

Love you guys,

-Foxy

Fan Mail!

Hip hip Hooray For May!
Be sure to wish the month of May a happy birthday today!

But Firstly,
Our dear friend Chiko wrote is our first piece of fanmail! We thought it was just as cute as a button! And we had to share!

P.S. Don't be too hard on his penmanship, I guess he's a little retarded...I mean latino. hemhem.

Golly!

Still Thinking About You,

-Foxy

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Celibanity is in the Air

To all my Ornery Love Kittens,
I recieved a memo from the Reverend, and thought you might like to take a looksie.
Enjoy!

Now, gather around friends, for a special message from our very Southern and very holy friend, Reverend Glen Anderson.

Celibanity and You: Opportunities

Are you tired of having to choose between the vast possibilities of hundreds of sexual partners you may have tonight? Stressed from being too attractive and overloaded with sexual appeal? Down with all the sci-fi elements of scientology, but just not believing the plot? Liking the idea of eternal life but tired of waiting for judgement day? Bored of the old, stuffy texts of God? Want to belong but don’t want to memorize passage after passage?

THEN DO WE HAVE A RELIGION FOR YOU!

Are you getting tired of always getting shown up in church by that snobby guy in Dockers shorts and Lacoste sweaters? Confused by all the rules and just don't know who to shoot your prayers to anymore? Allah, the Holy Ghost, Zeus, Tom Cruise? Who knows any more! God knows I wasn’t totally satisfied when I spent 25 years meditating with Tao monks in eastern Asia, and he also knows that I only pretended to levitate. To the homies and the bros, are you trying to get a little extra alongside eternal salvation…you know what I’m talking about! Well then it sounds that its time for a new religion. Oh but where can I find one? Your local Reverend Glen is here to help! Now I know I've saved many a soul with some of the commandments you've probably ceaselessly studied, but I'm here to offer even more.

MORE?!

More.

This religion I’m letting your get inside is the proud organization of Celibanity. It's a dream for those looking to impress the parents and more so the ladies, cause I know even you can remember our one rule.
IT’S THAT EASY!
There's only one proclamation. Once you remember this, oh will the acceptance roll in. These girls are holy, so the approval of the parents is an essential. Think of the stories the bros will flip over! Anything can happen at late night bible study. Hot damn, speaking of, the hour is getting late and I must depart, but I'm willing a-bet that this little taste of Celibanity has got you stimulated ready for round two. Remember our slogan!

"Don't think, just join."
-Reverend Glen Anderson

Stay strong, stay firm, and stay hard,
Love,
Foxy

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Minority Government for Teens

Recently the topic of minority based government came up in a grade 11 english class. Canada is usually in such a predicament, hence our dear friend Stephen Harper always getting elected. Unfortunately the simple concept was lost amongst the young people that are supposedly the future(Hot Tamales!). So we decided to whip up this analogy.

There are 12 crazy teens, much like yourself, who want to have some wicked awesome fun this weekend.

Three of these children feel the urge that accompanies, as the teens call it "getting nuts and blazing some spliffs". (Class pauses for brief applause) This is the NDP.

Four of the kids decide they want to "get krunked" and "shotgun their dad's beers until they puke out their noses" (Class pauses for brief, slightly lowder applause) this is the Liberal party.

Then there is another, larger, group of kids, 5 to be precise. But remember, 5 is less than the combined seven of the Liberal and NDP parties. These five kids want to go to an art gallery, look at some interesting art, discuss philosophy and literature, and mostly, appreciate the fruits that natures tit has to offer. They want to listen to Beethoven, and talk about their feelings. They only drink cool beverages because hot is the temperature of hell, and in hell, as you may very well know, resides Satan, these kids know that drinking hot beverages makes Satan happy, needless to say, these kids are very, very, smart. (Class pauses to boo for a while, and Toby, the child that the teacher chooses to ridicule on a regular basis in front of the class begins to state how very much he enjoys freshly brewed herbal tea.) "Shuttup Toby! You're parents hate you!" says the teacher. Everyone laughs, that is, everyone except Toby. Anyways, as you may have guessed, this party is the conservative party.

Now, I see you have been thinking and doing math well beyond your years. You realise that since seven kids wanted to rock their bodies with substances, that's a majority, therefor that's what they do. Well unfortunately for you, you wasted your time doing your math, because that's not how government works, silly! Since, three children voted to smoke marijuana and four voted to drink wine coolers that their mother's bought them, all withing the subgroup, they do not count as seven, they count as two seperate groups of three and four. So all the kids must go to the art gallery. DAYUM!

I hope I've helped, sorry about you wasting your time on that math!

Love,
Chowda Chops.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Memoirs of a 4:20 Past

Being the social butterfly I am, and being ridiculously popular and super cool among my millions of friends who would all just totally love to be with me, I was invited to many 4:20 parties. But, I refrained, and decided to go to the 4:20 party that all the cool people were at, God's 4:20. I went to the afternoon mass at my local parish, and this was where I met my best friend, and my pastor, Reverend Glen. Turns out, Reverend Glen has been around the block a few times, and really understands what kids nowadays are all about, and he gave me some lasting 4:20 advice that all Pigeon Stew readers should know...some of them rhyme.
  1. Whiskey before frisky, very risky (he then proceeded to tell me an entertaining anecdote about him. his best college buddy, his college girlfriend, and the entire football team!)
  2. Beer before beer, good to steer...your truck
  3. Wine before dance...DON'T DANCE!
  4. Lastly, and most importantly, smoking weed makes you awesome.

I hope that this advice has brought you the warmth and excitement that it has brought me, and I'm sure that it has left your mind erect and ready for action.

Deuces,

Foxy

Monday, April 20, 2009

The Most Wonderful Time Of the Year!

Hello dear friends!

Tonight is the night of Four Twenty! On this most joyous of holidays the slowly minded band together to pay respects to their pagan god, Robert Marley. They go into a frenzy, enjoying his smooth reggae stylings, whilst abusing their bodies with man manipulated substances which were never intended for the meat bags that are their bodies have become. While they chant in a disorientated tumult in the streets during school and business hours, the elderly are enraged, and the few sober individuals in the premises are made incredibly uncomfortable. A couple true fans of this Robert Marley character become very disappointed at the blatant misunderstanding of Marley's views. And at this, we at Pigeon Stew would like to give a salute to anyone who was high at least twice today, especially those committed enough to get up at twenty minutes past the fourth hour of the morning so that they could participate in the legend that is 4:20.
Until next year,

Happy 4:20!
The Pigeon Stew Crew

P.S If you check the post time, we're off to blaze some crazy shit together, I hope you are too!

Friday, April 17, 2009

I'm Sorry I'm Tardy, us Greeks Drink Lots o' Bacardi

Hello friends,
Turns out, I'm Greek Orthodox, and we celebrate Easter one week later than Christians do. Why? Because we're usually wasted on the weekends, and when we sober up, have a nice bath, and clean up the stank in our beds, we realise we missed Easter, so we postpone it until the next week. I drew this picture asking you forgive my people for being rudy alcoholics, we're almost aboriginal when we get the booze into us.

Excuse my dilatory actions and reprehensible Easter demeanor,

I Still Love You,

Chowda Chops

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Post-Easter Paedophage

This Easter Season has brought everyone here at Pigeon Stew much love and comfort. Not only have we learned much about eachother, but in our shared experiences, we learned a little tidbit about ourselves too. As the Pigeon Stew team was attending Easter Mass together, we were caught in a comprimising dillema. We were doing what we usually do in mass, listening attentively and praying for salvation, when, well, I need to put this in context...

Priest: It is now time for the veneration of the Cross, this is a custom ceremony every Easter, and it is asked that you remain in silent meditation until our time in the church is over.
Foxy: Hey Chowda, what does veneration mean?
Chowda Chops: It’s when you kiss the wood of the cross to show your love for Jesus
Foxy: no way!
Chowda Chops: why?
Foxy: I love Jesus but he can’t make me kiss his wood!

I'm beginning to think this Jesus guy isn't who I thought he was...

Pray for my Tarnished Soul,
Foxy

Thursday, April 9, 2009

You Could've Been Something I'd be Good at

A Conversation Between the Creators of our holy Pigeon Stew!
(all names have been changed to typical internet chatroom names to protect their identities)

Gary Masterson: hey
CumDumpster69: hey you!
Gary Masterson: knock, knock,
CumDumpster69: who’s there?
Gary Masterson: your lover, and I’ll always be there
CumDumpster69: Awe!
Gary Masterson: I love you…so much
CumDumpster69: I love you too, I wish to embrace you, like the sky embraces the earth, in an eternal dance of love
Gary Masterson: I wish to tongue kiss you while under the sea, but then realize I’m not under the sea, I’m just lost in your eyes. I wish to massage your back, like a Neanderthal in the spring time, fondling your naughty places...just because I can...
CumDumpster69: Wait, lost as in lost in a forest? Or as in the hit ABC drama, LOST? Either way it is breathtaking.
Gary Masterson: I’m losing my wood with all these questions! Let’s just get to the porking!
CumDumpster69: ok
Gary Masterson: (that’s street for sexing you up)
CumDumpster69: Sexing? I though we were writing alternative poetry! I’m not that kind of girl Gary!
Gary Masterson: You’re not any kind of girl! Why did you throw yourself at me like that? FILTHY!
CumDumpster69: WHAT? Oh God. I HATE YOU!!!
Gary Masterson: You’re hate brings me erotic pleasure! AHAHA! The more you want to screw me the less turned on I am you hideous cow!
CumDumpster69: AWE NO! My mother told me I was beautiful!
Gary Masterson: Too bad you’re mother is laughing her buns off AS WE SPEAK!
CumDumpster69: Oh! You PIG!
Gary Masterson: Takes one to know one!
CumDumpster69: All this is getting old! Can we just get to the make-up sex now?
Gary Masterson: Yeah baby go on webcam

Help Us Find The Owner!


We need your help!
-Foxy

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Speaking of Goats...

Our friend Chiko, a very talented masseuse and a warm, skilled lover, discussed with us today the overwhelming numbers of livestock who have had or are having children before they have made the holiest of holy vows. That is, they have not yet acknowledged the Lord, baby Jesus, as their saviour and therefore have not yet partaken in a matrimonial ceremony. For more information about this touching issue and to see how you can help, please visit: http://www.rpsawareness.blogspot.com/

In the meantime, please take the time to take a look at a drawing our friend Chiko made so you can begin to understand just how strong his feelings are towards this grippin world issue.

Don't be a Stranger,

-Foxy

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

What a Horrible Day...

Hey everyone, I had a bad day today, like that song that everyone liked for a bit then after a few weeks everyone made fun of me for liking it because it wasn't new anymore and it hurt my feelings that someone would make fun of me for having a specific taste in music so I went and I crushed my ipod with my face into the pavement and got a black eye and went to school looking badass and everyone said I looked like I got in a fight at a gay club in Sanfrancisco so I covered it with makeup and went to school and then everyone said I REALLY looked like i got into a bar fight at a gay club in sanfrancisco. Anyways, here's my journal entry for today:

April 7, 2009
Dear Diary,
Today I heard two of my friends having a discussion about what I thought was cars, I heard one of them say "Wow! Look at that Gran-Tran!" So I proceeded to tell them "That's what my stepdad rides!", and as it turns out, they weren't talking about cars at all, Gran-Tran stands for "Grannie Trannie". Needless to say everyone is drawing pictures of my stepdad doing it with a Gran-Tran, that's hurtful, he is simply a nice guy, and doesn't deserve this.

I have a crush on this girl who refuses to go out with me or acknowledge my existance, so as I was rummaging through her knapsack at lunch hour to find a momento, I found a letter from a guy named Phil, it read :

Dear Candice,
It’s a total bummer you want to wait for marriage.
With adoration,
Bill

I thought about how horrible Phil was for saying such a thing, but he is very pretty, so I could understand using such a tactic. As I walked by Candice's lunch table after stealing her gym shorts, I heard her talking to her friends about how tonight was the night her and Phil were going to go all the way, it's a Tuesday today, I don't even go out on Tuesdays, I would have been happy if she just wanted to join me to watch reruns of ABC's hit drama LOST, the characters timetravel now, it's pimptastic. But seriously I wouldn't have even touched her...partly because I'm an old fashioned guy and partly because I sweat...alot...copious amounts of sweat.

I used the word pimptastic outside of my journal today and was called a shturd...I didn't know it wasn't a cool thing to say.

I tried to make my personal goat Pinata today and was arrested just as I was lighting the fireworks, apparently the police have had an eye on me for a long time.

I was typing in Wingdings in Microsoft Word and found a startling fact, Wingdings hates jews...really, really bad.

I fear for my religion, for Hanukka, my Kippah, and my mother. Not necessarily in that order.

Watch out for the Wingdings:

Love, Foxy's Friend Ishmael

Monday, April 6, 2009

Goatfest!

Hey there!
This is a family recipe originally made by my great great uncle Pito, a mexican slave worker from Europe. We hope you enjoy our tasty funslice!

How to Create Your Own Goat Piñata:

Step 1: Find a stray goat, if you live in Essex, you can probably find one behind Billy’s Bar and Grill or in the basement of Chochi’s, if you don’t live in Essex, take a road trip to our beautiful town and wrangle your goat! Truly a hands on experience, and the kids will love the free knives!

Step 2: Buy a whole paycheques worth of candy, don’t worry, this shit is going to be insane, even better if you get hard candy because (SPOILER ALERT!) They might draw blood when we blow up this goat.

Step 3: Massage your goats’ throat as you put the candy into his mouth, this will force him to swallow the candy whole

Step 4: Find an abandoned car, if you live in Essex, you can find one in the Red Light District part of town, if you don’t, take a road trip to our beautiful town, we have a SCHINKLES MEAT MARKET!

Step 5: Cover the car in Chipotle barbeque sauce

Step 6: Force the goat into the abandoned chipotle barbeque saucy car

Step 7: Light fireworks and throw them at the gas tank of the car, which if done correctly will most likely cause a pretty substantial explosion

Step 8: Chipotle goat meat probably flew everywhere when the car blew up, so enjoy that succulent snack, and enjoy your fun desert, slightly goat-flavoured candy.

Our thoughts are with you, and your little goats too,
-Foxy's Family

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Be Cool, Cut School!

YO!
Don't keep it real, GET REAL!
-Mike V, Pro Skater, Contemporary Douchebag

Love,
Chowda Chops

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Don't let this be YOU!

REMEMBER!
Practice safe sex! Don't let this be you!
Here at Pigeon stew your genitals' safety is our first concern.
Just a little reminder,

With Love,
CHOWDA CHOPS

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Another Outbreak!


UH-OH! It's Essex District High School with another little memo for you. Looks like theres been another outbreak in the school!
-Foxy

Restroom Privileges

Hey there! Welcome to Essex District High School! I hear you haven't been keeping up with all of our friendly little memos! Anyhow, the restrooms have really been a terrible problem as of late, so without further ado, obey the rules, Terry Lyones does, you should too!
-Foxy

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Welcome, Curious Stranger!

Everything is in a jumble!
The madness is just getting started here at Pigeon Stew.Life is pretty hectic here, but we just couldn't resist but give you a nice doodle for you to peep at.
Until Further Ado,
CHOWDA CHOPS