It has recently come to our attention that a number of you have been reading State Og while driving. We must insist that you show some respect for your fellow motorists, so please do NOT spoil the latest update by reading it loud enough for nearby drivers to hear you. Thank you. Despite all rumors to the contrary, State Og has absolutely nothiSpecial thanks this week go to: Don "Motorcycle" Jolly and Nick "Loden Taylor" McDermott.
10 Simple Rules To Keep Your Job At State Og
A FRIENDLY MESSAGE FROM THE MANAGEMENT.
HELLO. THIS IS MR. WITHERSPOON, GENERAL MANAGER FOR THE SOUTHEAST ASIAN OFFICE. I AM TYPING IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS BECAUSE I AM VERY ANGRY RIGHT NOW, AND FIND THE VOLUME AFFORDED BY CAPTILIZATION USEFUL TOWARDS MAKING MY POINT.
THE STAFF OF THIS AND OTHER LOCATIONS HAVE REALLY BEEN BOILING MY GRITS LATELY. HERE’S SOME HELPFUL TIPS ON HOW TO KEEP YOUR JOB :
1. DON’T SLEEP WITH MY WIFE – IT’S SIMPLE! JUST DON’T. I KNOW THAT AFTER THREE KIDS YOU COULD SHOVE YOUR ARM UP HER BIRTH CANAL AND STILL HAVE ENOUGH ROOM TO FLIP A COIN. HELL, YOU MIGHT JUST WANDER IN AND NOT REALIZE WHERE YOU ARE UNTIL YOU SEE ALL THE GODDAMN MISCARRIAGES. BUT NO MATTER HOW YOU GET IN, WHEN YOU LEAVE I’LL SERVE UP YOUR WALKING PAPERS.
2. DON’T POST PICTURES OF ME, OR MY DOG OR ANYBODY I KNOW. I DON’T WANT TO NAME NAMES, BUT CERTAIN EMPLOYEES HAVE BEEN POSTING PICTURES OF MYSLEF AND MY DOG, RUSTY, VARIOUS COMPROMISING POSES. THESE EMBARRASS ME, AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, THE COMPANY. I WILL FIRE YOU.
I have counted to 10, and I think I can continue the list respectfully, without the need for capital letters. Just remember the above paragraphs the next time you think about breaking the rules!
3. I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND! Do not invite me to parties, or ask me questions or talk to me or look at me. I hate you, yes you, personally. I am a very important man and keep to myself. This is doubly true if you are a woman, as your gender is nothing but a den of insidious vipers who’ll drop their loving husbands of 18 months for the hot-shit new Janitor just because his dick smells like Lemon Pledge.
4. STOP WEARING COVER-ALLS! These things piss me off, you look like a fucking hick. Aren’t there uniform regulations?
5. THERE ARE NOW UNIFROM REGULATIONS. All employees will wear ONLY black dress pants and the ironic t-shirt of their choice. They may not accessorize. If I catch you with a watch, I’m lopping off your wrist and using your hand as a condom. Because God only knows my wife has stuck worse things in her mass.
6. FUCK YOUR PARENTS. No more funerals, family emergency or other parental problems will be tolerated. My dad just never understood when I switched to a Psychology major, and was a real dick. So this stirs bad memories, and makes me want to fire people.
7. YOU’RE FIRED! No, really. Get the fuck out before I have security called down.
8. THAT ONE WAS A JOKE. You can relax. The rest of this list isn’t important, you can go back to your post.
9. HA! Those of you still reading this are the only ones I can trust. Whoever is headed back to their cubicles now will be killed for sleeping with my wife, tricking me into humping a dog and various other concerns.
10. THAT GUY WAS A SHITHEAD. What was his deal anyway?
Thanks for your time. I’ll see you at the next staff meeting!
- The Management (Mr. Witherspoon).
OgBall: The Unofficial National Pastime
Baseball is boring; let’s face it. The only thing even halfway interesting about baseball these days is player strikes, but those come far too infrequently to keep would-be baseball enthusiasts excited.
No, baseball is obviously bunk. It is, even now, it its final death throes as the national pastime, which is why we at State Og say move over, baseball – make way for OgBall!
OgBall is an exciting new sport from the creative minds in Cell F Sub 5. It combines the fast-paced excitement of basketball with the grunting, homoerotic thrill of football, with just a dash of the fast-paced, homoerotic thrilling excitement of being chased by a wolf.
The basics of the game are simple. Each team has twelve players. The number of teams on the field depends on the time of day the game is played: day games have three teams, while night games have five. Any game played during dawn or twilight is automatically called in favor of the home team.
Each member of the first and third (and fifth, in the case of night games) teams is given a large ball of yarn. The odd-numbered teams will then run from one end of the field (which can be any size and shape) to the other and back again while the even team(s) tries to grab their yarn balls. Any member who loses possession his ball of yarn while on the field will be mauled by dogs. Once team(s) two (and/or four) have what they deem to be enough yarn balls, the members will begin knitting a large scarf while the members of teams one and three (and five) that aren’t being mauled by dogs begin to dance.
In order to legally make it from one end of the field to the other, the odd-numbered teams must scream corporate advertising at the top of their lungs. Any member not screaming ads will be mauled by dogs. In order to legally take a yarn ball, the even-numbered team(s) must punch themselves in the back of the head. Any yarn stealing not accompanied by self abuse will result in a mauling.
Winning may be accomplished in many ways. If the team knitting the scarf completes it before all other teams’ members have completed dancing the Forbidden Dance of Hxingh, they win. If all dancers complete the dance before the scarf is completed, then they win. If the odd-numbered teams keep possession of their yarn, they win. If the dogs run wild and maul over 75% of players on the field, regardless of yarn possession or team membership, the dogs win and are treated to a steak dinner.
We foresee this wonderful sport becoming the new national pastime. Soon, we are sure, the shouting of men and the snarling of feral dogs will fill the air from sea to shining sea as all of America comes to know and love the magic of OgBall.- State Og Representative
One wizard thinks our President's magic control initiatives have gone too far.
Are we not allowed to be real parents anymore? We may have feared the CyborFreaks, but we damn well respected them and learned about boundaries.
Ron Paul spins in his chair, trying to grab his decorative antique musket but Freddy gets it first.
State Og... what is it? Who knows! Where do they operate? No clue! All we know is they're fairly evil, and nobody dares question the might of State Og!