Pigeon Stew

Announcing the 'Post Hipster Movement'

2010-11-01T20:14:00.000-07:00

Thought just being a hipster was hard? Then don't even try to be post hipster.

But Foxy! What makes a hipster any different than a post-hipster.

Well, post hipsters don't directly speak to anyone, let alone answer questions when a stranger e-mails them, so go sit on it. (post hipsters LOVE disgusting old sayings, not to be confused with hipsters,who are just disgusting and old)

Post hipsters are the coolest of cool, tacky Christmas sweaters in June, cutoffs in the winter. But wait! Not cutoff jeans, that's too hipster. The newest craze is cutoff underpants. That't right. Does your dad have any old and stained underpants around? The more stained the better, cut those babies off until they literally aren't even a garment anymore.

That isn't even the half of it. It's well known that Hipsters love irony, but post-hipsters make ironic statements ABOUT irony, not to mention they constantly define irony and tell other people they aren't being ironic ironically.

Like to photoshop? That's good, keep doing it...but only using paint.

Like ray bans? Crush them. Post hipsters only wear American Chopper Brand Glasses.

Like facial hair? Don't even think about it unless you can grow a hulihee.

Buy my book,

-foxy

Sorry I've Been Away, I'll Post Some Nude Pics of Chowda Later...

2010-07-21T21:49:00.000-07:00

Wife: Honey, you know how depressed I've been, I've gone to see a doctor

Husband: Babe, thats great news, what did Dr. Rustle say?

Wife: He recommended an anti depressant named Abilify

Husband: Okay, did he say what to expect once you start taking it?

Wife: Well, just the usual side effects, possible mood swings, a slim chance of suicidal thoughts

Husband: Well, if you feel comfortable taking it, I'm behind you one hundred percent, are there any more common side effects?

Wife: The website says trouble swallowing but-

Husband: Yeah that won't work

Wife: But honey I-

Husband: I SAID IT WON'T WORK!

Did someone say marital conflict?

YIKES!

-Foxy

The Talk

2010-02-20T18:56:00.000-08:00

He stared at me from across the table, his hands folded, calm. The softness of his voice sent fear through my spine as he spoke the words:

"I understand, you're a young man and you're dating my daughter. Sex is a new frontier and exploration is only natural, I just want to make sure there is no unplanned pregnancy, especially with my baby girl."

I didn't think of what I was doing before I spoke with a timid smile:

"Sir, if my sperms are as shy as I am, I doubt they'll show up at all."

Should've Said Nothing,
Foxy

Explosions: The Silent Killer

2010-01-28T19:59:00.000-08:00

"Explosions: The best defence is a good offense."
-Socrates

Introducing: American Removal and Survival of Explosions - An American Guilde Spot:
The A.R.S.E. - A.G. Spot

Now in 4 Easy Steps!

1) At the first sign of an explosion of any kind, immediately locate your .45 calibre banana clipped poison bulletted sabre rifle, and begin to shoot the explosion into submission repeating the words "pwnography, pwnography, pwnography!"
2) For more stubborn explosions, such as these found in train stations and Israel, a more psychological approach needs to be taken. Begin shouting obscenities at the fiery mass, the more racist the better!

*repeat steps one and two in sequence at least three times before continuing!

3) At this point, we know we have a serious threat on our hands, so as a collective society, we will have to declare war on the explosion. This means deploying all our troops, as well as our troupes! Our soldiers and dramatic types will find creative inspiration in the eyes of their counterparts, and this creativity will bring plenty of glory to the heartland!
4) When all else fails, we will create a bigger explosion to kill the current explosion, we will once again use our sabre rifles, so be sure to stock up on some specially formulated silver bullets made in the Washington Mint! We are going to unfortunately have to shoot George Michael, because we know nothing has ever blown up stronger than he did back in '94!

Keep Faith,
-Foxy

Eating In Africa

2009-11-22T16:00:00.000-08:00

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

Swine Flu Update: Tracing the Problem to the Source

2009-11-18T17:04:00.000-08:00

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

Texting During the Holocaust

2009-11-16T15:02:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-16T14:56:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-16T14:30:00.000-08:00

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

In Memoriam

2009-11-11T17:30:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-11T17:01:00.000-08:00

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

Holy Canolis!

2009-10-22T12:24:00.000-07:00

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

Voices of Reason!

2009-10-21T16:05:00.000-07:00

"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.

1 Tip to a Flat Belly

2009-10-19T13:45:00.000-07:00

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

The G stands for god.

2009-08-13T23:21:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to let you know, if you still care, we still care.

Love,

The Stew Staff.

Meet Jim Everybody!

2009-06-30T14:47:00.000-07:00

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?

Chuggo, Our Friend and Partner

2009-06-18T11:49:00.000-07:00

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

Martin Luther King Jr.

2009-06-17T14:19:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-06-17T11:39:00.000-07:00

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.

Hope No One Sues Us

2009-06-15T20:54:00.000-07:00

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!

Cool People Who Also Happen to be Black

2009-06-02T14:23:00.000-07:00

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.

Happy Hepatitis Day!

2009-05-28T17:04:00.000-07:00

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...

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"
Canadians invented the zipper, the slinky, and Hepatitis A. (think about it...think about it)
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)

We live in Mississippi!

2009-05-27T14:53:00.000-07:00

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

Do you ever feel like this?

2009-05-25T12:40:00.000-07:00

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

Just puke on their face.

Love,
Chowda Chops

Long Winded Sadness

2009-05-21T11:23:00.000-07:00

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.