According to a landmark overnite study conducted by prestigious Caribbean think tank MyGoodies, most U.S. kids don’t know what “Don’t taze me, bro” is.

“Most U.S. kids don’t know what ‘Don’t taze me, bro’ is,” ejaculated Rant Foaming, 50, a professor of media studies at…at…I think it was Concordia University, in Montreal, Canaduh, but it coulda been pretty much anywhere, really.

So, what is “Don’t taze me, bro”, bro?

“Well, first, lemme give you a little background about the University of California, and why you should study here.”

Oh, Jesus.

“We’ve got killer research facilities, ubiquitous free Wi-Fi, and you would not believe the quality of girls that go here.”

Yes, but why don’t the kids know what “Don’t taze me, bro” is? And who are “the kids”, anyway? I mean, can you expand a little here on your great topic sentence, professor?

“Doctor.”

Yes, but why don’t the kids know what “Don’t taze me, bro” is? And who are “the kids”, anyway? I mean, can you expand a little here on your great topic sentence, doctor?

“Doctor professor.”

Can I see some ID, please?

“I’ll just show myself out. Do you know where the exit is?”

Luckily, I don’t have to do any more research, ’cause I remember what “Don’t taze me, bro” is and I look around and see people every place just…just tuning it out and forgetting.

My feeling, which is as good as news, is that it’s because of the past and the future that people are forgetting and so don’t know about “Don’t taze me, bro.”

Wanna explanation?

The past pulls away at the present, shredding it like your favorite jeans. The future gropes the present, too, just like you know who in the news – don’t make me say it!?! And last, the present is so confused it just… oh, I’m tired and I feel like a nice but simple snack;  perhaps a PBJ sandwich or… a miso soup…

But it’s a shame people forget.

Understand?

“The great oral tradition of what you and I know as television, or TV, is being threatened by the Internet,” said Carville Balistrade, 6, a spokesperson for MyGoodies, before quickly walking away and disappearing into a crowd of stunned onlookers at the Hotel Two-Way.

“I didn’t know they let kids in here,” griped Hugo Plow, 40, a paying guest. “I’m a paying guest and I demand satisfaction or my money back,” he went on.

Anyway, lots of scholars agree what that kid from the think tank said. For example, there’s Ms. Leah Reeperbahn, 22 and legal, of the University of Transylvania. Ms. Reeperbahn is fighting to preserve the oral traditions which will disappear down the poop chute of history when people toss their TVs in the toilet in the very near future.

The Brutal Times caught up with Ms. Reeperbahn and her annoying boyfriend Louis Drippe, 44, as they were exiting the pricey Boston bistro Pasta La Vista where Mr. Drippe had been boring her with stories of his dreams and many many failings.

“You look gorgeous – sorry sir, can you step over there for a moment ? What a great beret! Read your thesis – it really packs a wallop!”

“Oh… thank you. I’m sorry,I didn’t get your name?”

“Cavalier Dokk, from The Brutal Times.”

“The New York Times! I can’t – how did you come to read my thesis?”

“The guy sitting at the bar next to me was reading it and I sort read it over his shoulder.”

“Well…that’s…listen, I have to go – my boyfriend – Louis..”

“What you say is very, very provocative – that television, or what you and I know as TV, is at risk -”

“Threatened.”

“Threatened – by the Internet.”

“Yes, I think it’s a shame, really; there are a lot of unique oral storytelling voices that are going to be lost once everyone starts reading all the time online.”

“Oh sure. Like whom?”

“Well, I think there’s the currently popular ones like Oprah Winfrey and Jon Stewart. Then, you’ve also got, going back, Tony Danza, Fonzi, Chachi and Michael J. Fox.”

“And their unique voices will be lost.”

“Exactly. We’re losing them right now.”

“Jesus, it’s a shame.”

“I say that in my thesis. Repeatedly.”

“It’s a fresh body blow to something.”

“It is that, yes. It’s also occuring at a time that’s politically sensitive to someone.”

“Obama?”

“If that’s what you want, yes. Listen, can I go now?”

“No, no, no, no, no – no, it is not. I take that question back. Listen, aren’t you afraid to study at a place called Transylvania University?”

“Should I be?”

“Jesus, you’re hard work. Surely you’re not unawares of the other graduates produced there?”

“I don’t care to hear all the jokes again at this particular moment.”

“What’s the attraction for you in a man like Louis?”

“Louis…has helped me in many ways, which you can’t even begin to understand.”

“Try me.”

“Look, I don’t even know you.”

“No one knows anybody.”

“There are times when being witty isn’t going to win the battle for you.”

“It’s more about the feeling.”

“Yes.”

“You realize that if I lose you here in print this story’s not going to have a happy ending?”

“Do all your stories have a happy ending?”

“Look, for me…I really don’t care so much. I mean, I do care, but I care more about what the readers out there are going to think when someone rips them off and sticks them with a clod of bad feeling in the gut.”

“All right then. Just don’t break my heart like all the rest.”

Understand?

The result?

Most parties are bad.

“We went to over 6787698760 parties over the course of an average month, over the course of those average years in various straight and psychedelically-enhanced states of mind,” insisted Prof. Jack Jacques, who has found himself the subject of wide ridicule ever since he was born. “I only had a good time once,” he went on, “and that was at the first party, 35 years ago.”

Alongside the professor, leggy Fergie from the fabulous Black-Eyed Peas supergroup may have taken part in the study.

“Fergie is a people person and so chances are good she was there at least once,” said someone whom refuses to be named, at someplace sometime.

And, the parties were held in every locale you can imagine – from parents’ basement to inside an aircraft carrier heading for Afghanistan and the fantastic war or terror!

But, “I was excited at first, y’know you think you’re gonna meet some interesting people, exchange email addresses and then go have sex in their car, but it seldom happens,” lamented Lamont Kolb, 50, an unpaid intern at thebrutaltimes.com. “Whatever you do, do not go to a Halloween party,” he cautioned, gripping my leg.

So, are people turning anti-social ’cause of online gaming, hotmail, etc?

“People have always been anti-social,” says Kay Burger, 23, a philosophy graduate student at Tokyo’s Temple University, who is writing a book on parties, “My Party, vs Your Right To Party”, due to be released by MotherEarth Imprint next weekend.

“But the catch is that most people like anti-social people,” she went on.

Whatwhatwhat?

“The mystery of ‘the Stranger’ – what the French call ‘L’Etranger, and the Germans call ‘poopenshantz’ is central to what it means to be a yuman being,” she kept talking.

Did you just say “yuman”?

“Yes, and I think that if you’re trying to to make fun of me, you’d do best first to look up the origin and usage of the word and then I think you’d find out I’m ‘in the know’ and a member of a secret society.”

Ok, after I finish the article I do it!

Or will I?

By Grande Chef Otto, MARTHA’S VINEYARD – A poll in the popularity of after dinner conversation topics around the world was released today by prestigious Carribean think tank MyGoodies. The poll which covers the years 2007-2008 contains a number of shockers.

Among them: Whilst in 2005-2006 the number 2 topic of after dinner conversation between unmarried white men dining with married white women in their mid-twenties was erectile disfunction, according to MyGoodies, erectile disfunction has slipped to number 903 this year.

To illustrate the gravity of the slide of interest in erectile disfunction, number 902 for 2008 was coloring books and number 904 was American country music.

Why the changeroo?

“Everyone who could be helped was helped – in 2005, 2006 the number of folks who submitted to various lengthy and often intensely painful therapies involving pills, meditation and frothy creams would just totally blow your mind,” commented Dr Ray Goolens, who treated millions of Americans in carparks and 24-hour donut shoppes.

Still, time needs filling, desperately, especially after dinner when folks are bloated and conversation becomes dangerously awkward. So if erectile disfunction won’t fill the void, what will?

“Well clearly this is something everybody is worrying about now, ” offers Bilbo Baggins, 46, who works with people who worry, part-time. “After a meal of clams, brown rice and an orange with some of my co-workers last week I started talking about my ex-wife and this was met with cold blank stares,” he added, staring.

Jimmy Jam-san, 32, a popular Tokyo dj commented on the popular human rights blog rightwingthinktank.com that he feels “no connection with others” after dinner. Without his career dancing and prancing behind his two wheels of steel he says he’d “take all the negative after dinner energy into my body and become a pretentious performance artist like Bjork.”

Oh no.

Erectile disfunction achieved popularity as a disease and then as after dinner conversation in the 1990′s when US president Bill Clinton spoke candidly about his own struggles with dependency on the disease. As Clinton spoke through the tv millions of Americans were hypnotized and came to believe they too had the disease.

“Clinton Broke my Dick” became a popular bumper sticker in the US at this time. After dinner conversations surrounding erectile disfunctions boomed and over eight million babies were born through aggressive programmes mounted to combat ED by Irish rock star Bono and his posse.

“Thanks, Bono for Giving Me My Dick Back” was another popular bumper sticker around this time. If you still have one in good condition it is now worth $578 US dollars (4 Japanese yen).

Or is it?

But early reports this morning suggest that Tijuana’s stormclouds may yet possess a silver lining.

“Hector Salazar and his brother Antonio Salazar discovered, early this morning in their garden, what appears to be the top point of an ancient Mayan food pyramid,” announced Tijuana mayor Eduardo Salazar, speaking to reporters from a wide range of countries, including Greenland.

Immediately skeptics rushed to attack the mayor on both a professional and personal basis.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” insisted Erik C. Taft, who is a director at the prestigious Caribbean think tank MyGoodies. “The Mayans never migrated as far west as TJ (hard core street slang for Tijuana). They preferred the cooler, more temperate zones of Kokomo.”

Dr Barret Holo, who has spent his retirement writing a pop-up book on Mayan culture also leapt to denounce Mayor Salazar.

“Look at that face – look at that head!” he shouted, as he massaged his single remaining sideburn. “That isn’t the same head he had on when he ran for office,” Holo pointed out.

Mayor Salazar did in fact undergo an intense set of facial and headal modifications after winning the 2006 mayoral elections in Tijuana. Some say he exchanged eyes with a shark. Much of his hair is said to be homemade.

Still, despite such provocative data Salazar is generally well-liked and is often photographed as much for his genuine smile (which is an officially sanctioned Tijuana National Treasure) as he is for his eyes and hair, and head.

“Salazar would never lie to us – the pyramid is real,” insisted supporter Rosa Salazar, who also insisted she be allowed to demonstrate her imitation of Salazar’s popular smile.

Miss Rosa was echoed by several diehard US college students who say they caught glimpses of the thing after a night on town with Salazar and “some other groovy party girls who showed up around 2.”

“I saw cake at the top, where green vegies usually go,” said Greg Pear, 26, a barrista from San Diego. “That`s a relief ’cause I sure like cake.”

Sara Sugarman, 22, a philosophy student from San Franscisco disagreed slightly with Mr Pear.

“No, no – cake was second, where fruit usually goes; the top spot was LSD.”

When told that LSD is not only not a food, but classified as a dangerous mind-eating substance, Ms Sugarman replied haughtily, “You ain’t the boss of me.”

Other young people wanted to be part of this article but their comments are unprintable, as usual.

Mayor Salazar says the pyramid will first be “shrouded in secrecy” for about a year and a half to ten years, and then be studied intensely by privileged nutritionists possessing special Tijuana sanctioned passes.

“After that I guess we’ll show it off in a museum some place. Unless it has space aliens inside it; then we may have to blow it up,” he said.