Decent Reads of the Week

Stop the presses! The Community thought it would be a good move to bring new looks at decency by sharing some of the chill articles that come across our desk. So we’re instituting a new post we’ll get up every so often called “Decent Reads of the Week,” in which we’ll provide goods we feel are insightful, funny, weird, or what have you. (If you come across something you think we should share, send it along to Here’s some goods for this week:

Undressing the Terror Threat (WSJ)

Briton jailed for four years in Dubai after customs find cannabis weighing less than a grain of sugar under his shoe (Daily Mail, UK)

Brother gets revenge on sister with legendary facebook post. (

John Lennon wrote “Come Together” as a campaign song for Timothy Leary’s race against Ronald Reagan for governor of California. (NYT)

Breaking down the sentence: “Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.” (Wiki)

Dude shits his pants on a date and tries to figure out what to do. (

KFC Thinks Black People Like Fried Chicken or Something (

Sorry MILFs: Carnival Bans Cougar Cruises (Miami New Times)

What Makes Us Happy? (The Atlantic)

John Updike on Golf (NYT)


Joe Rogan — Prophet/Fear Factor Host

Who knew Joe Rogan was so deep? I guess watching people do crazy stunts like jumping off buildings, eating cockroaches, and being covered in tarantulas will cause you to look at things differently. Indeed, hosting Fear Factor makes you reassess.

He does present a very interesting theory here. And as a Community member who has ingested his fair share of psychedelics (mainly mass quantities of LSD), I’m kind of feeling what Rogan is preaching. Think about it — is he convincing your ass?

On a lighter note, did you know that Joe Rogan is related to Helmet Head? Yeah, I’m not sure exactly how they’re related, but they are. Don’t waste your time asking Helmet to get you on Fear Factor, because it’s no longer filming new episodes.

*All this info might be too heavy to digest. To better understand, listen below:

The Mystique of Breakfast Sausages

The craving of the breakfast sausage is a stubborn, unavoidable aspect of the human condition. Like busting a load, pinching a loaf, or destroying a set of reps in the weight room — the act grizzling out on a “meaty” is an altogether tantalizing “must” for bastards who wish to command any niblet of respect and self worth.

Each night we go to sleep praying for a morning whiff of the uncured, unsmoked, highly seasoned signature of utopian fare. That moist, peppery refreshment that exists within every breakfast sausage bite is more sought-after than a red Corvette, more hair-raising than a wheelie, and more addictive than heroin laced with cigarette smoke.

It’s said that God himself was a breakfast sausage fiend, and that he designed heaven to be one humongous breakfast sausage. How do you reach this glorious place? The Bible tells us to eat as much breakfast sausage as humanly possible, but Decent Community doesn’t need the good book to extol on us breakfast sausage’s grandiosity. No, we’ll be scarfing meatys link by link, patty by patty — because a life sans breakfast sausage would make for a most brutal existence!

*Thanks to Community member “Smith” for passing along the above vid!

Notorious Drug Abusing Puppets

A look back at some of the addict puppets we grew up with:

The Swedish Chef: Dude was absolutely nuts in the kitchen, slurring his speech, throwing ingredients this way and that. He’s cooked a real moose instead of chocolate moose, shot vegetables with a shotgun, hit meatballs with a tennis racquet, and played basketball with a live chicken. The Swedish Chef was an abuser of psychedelic mushrooms and an occasional user of mescaline.






Snuflleupagus: Old friend “Snuffy” put his gigantic shnoz to good use, sniffing paint and glue as no pseudo Woolly Mammoth should. The hapless scapegoat of Big Bird could barely walk, talked slower than a retard from back country Georgia, and had his ears disintegrated due to inhalation of about 1 billion chemicals.



Janice: The lead guitar player in Electric Mayhem, Janice emitted a vibe that was half Joni Mitchell, half Depeche Mode. She was a grass fiend who also dabbled in cocaine — yet she still managed to maintain strong technical abilities when letting loose on her axe.

Beaker: An obvious acid fiend (just look at the guy), our freak scientist has been shrunk, cloned, deflated, turned invisible, and blown up, but he always comes back for more LSD. When Beaker was high on doses, all he could say was “mee, mee, mee,” which basically meant “You better whip up some more acid Dr. Honeydew.”



Animal: His unbelievably powerful and fast foot could be attributed to 20 shots of vodka before every set. Animal’s serious heroin habit and addiction to anxiety pills proved to be an altogether potent cocktail. He was straight up maniacal when it came to jamming and ingesting drugs, and his demented demeanor eventually permeated all aspects of Animal’s frenzied existence.

Zoot: Cool cat Zoot (what a chill name!) is an aging burnout who digs his jazz, his drugs, and not much else. With a hairdo to kill for, Zoot zones out playing extended sax jams while high on just about anything he can score. He’s been hooked on herb, smack, and malt liquor — all of which enabled him to enter a self described “performance mode.”



Dr. Teeth: A George Clinton/Dr. John-ish leader of Electric Mayhem, Dr. Teeth is a social user of drugs. Problem for him, he’s the most social dude around! Sporting a huge grin and a perpetual finger point, Dr. Teeth can party with the most hard-core puppets due to his absurd tolerance for dope of all sorts.

Boober: This Fraggle Rock stoner got high to the point of depression, where all he would do is wash socks (despite the fact that no fraggles wore socks). He’s negative, nervous, and a consumate loner. Kind of an EMO-type addict, Boober was said to go through two ounces of weed per week, occasionally shoot up, and never show his eyes.

Decent Caption Contest Double Dip

shitload of cokeNot exactly the “shitload of coke” I had in mind.


poof daddyWhat da puff?

The Community’s Tamiflu Sale

The great swine-flu scare that occurred some weeks ago instilled freakish levels panic that reverberated throughout our community. Afraid to venture outside for fear of contracting the deadly H1N1, The Community entered defense mode by nestling up in a remote bunker with 750 cases of Tamiflu containing 150,000 individual doses. At the time, it seemed like the safe thing to do.

Fast forward to present day — the swine flu is now contained, hardly anyone became infected, and The Community is in possession of about 149, 967 doses of Tamiflu. We decided it’s time to start slingin our shit.

We’re offering unheard of deals to the tune of:

  • 5 capsules for $35
  • 10 capsules for $60
  • 20 capsules for $100

If you’re looking to buy in bulk, we’d love to speak with you. The Community took a bit of a financial hit during the scare and we really need to unload all this Tamiflu. God forbid — please help us out.

The Walk of Shame

The Community is known for making our wannabe sweethearts perform the walk of shame every morning. It’s partly because we party so much, partly because we get so much play, and partly because we’re just fans of making chicks do the walk of shame.

Think about it — is it not decent to see a foxy broad limping down the street with drool hanging out of her mouth, reeking of booze and cigarettes, makeup smeared all over her face, hair looking like she was just electrocuted, boogers coming out her nose, clothes in tatters, with one boob hanging out? Is that not decent?

When you’re french kissing at incredibly high rates, creatures like the one described above are the norm. We bulldoze down babes with our tongues and when the dust settles there’s only sloppiness in our wake. The walk of shame is the aftershock from Decnt Community’s earthquake of passion.