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Archive for the ‘Military’ Category

Rex’s Motto: Always be closing the door that leads to the elephrantula pens.
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“Fine.  We’ll take Wyoming as well…we can keep all our manure there.”

“Fine. We’ll take Wyoming as well…we can keep all our manure there.”

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The Gentlemans have been in sales for generations, dating back to Rex’s great- great- great-grandfather Parfait, who sold large portions of what would someday become boring swing states to unwitting American diplomats.

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The Gentlemans on a normal Sunday after church.

The Gentlemans on a normal Sunday after church.

Rex was something of an Army brat in his youth, traveling throughout Europe during the Cold War as his father brought democracy to the burgeoning markets for low cost Teslammo.  Rex got to know the ins and outs of many NATO lands, and made life long friends on American military bases that he would be able to blackmail as a defense contractor in later life.

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……After settling down on the East Coast, Rex attended George Washington university, where he earned a major in Auctioneerism and a minor in Laying Waste to Your Competitors (ah, those liberal halcyon days). It was in D.C. that he was infected with the desire to sell unknown quantities to the federal government for immense amounts of untraceable cash: truly this was the American dream.

High five!

High five!

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Then while working with the CIA on their urban beautification and Nicaraguan assistance projects, Rex came to our attention.  A bright, eager go-getter with a shiny coat, he was a perfect match for Synthetic Bio-Technologies and Heavy Volatile Weapons Incorporated (now Stuff You Need).

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Rex speaks with his major domo

Rex speaks with his major domo

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……Rex rose swiftly through the ranks to nab the coveted post of Head of Sales, from which he could lead his own dark empire, fueled by both the Pentagon’s slush fund and various inconsequential intercontinental nuclear transactions.

But as the economy has done to us all, Rex has had to come back down to earth a bit.

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And we’re glad he has, for as S.Y.N. moves forward bringing new products to the public, we’re excited to see the new profit streams he wades into:

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  • Grandparents looking for that near-lethal way to keep those damn kids off their lawn
  • The creamy, untapped underbelly of unemployed males ages 24 – 27.5
  • Pirates
  • Outright lies

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Yes, the sky’s the limit for this first class Gentle(sales)man!

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Rex Gentleman

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Beautiful AND magical.

Beautiful AND magical.

……To be perfectly honest, there’s just less and less call for orbiting death platforms these days (I know, crazy right?).  With the world feeling more and more hopeful about a brighter tomorrow, governments are funneling their budgets into space-based “smile” arrays, capable of delivering 100 mega watt Rainbow Lasers to any party on earth.

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(We hear Northrop’s got something in the shape of Obama’s head that transmits ‘Barack Beams’ right into your hopeythallamus.)

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……Well it makes us just sick to see these majestic techno-beasts hanging there unloved, so we’ve decided to do something about it: yes, Stuff You Need is converting (almost) all of its high altitude bombardment satellites to serve the public in a myriad of ways.   First up is a special we’re pleased to offer….

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……It’s summertime, and you want to get your kids outdoors, right?  Well what better way than a basketball hoop to get their fat little legs moving!  “But,” you say, “putting up a hoop is way too hard, and I’m even lazier than my lard ass kids – so what can I do?”

Heyyyy…just take a load off, fatty: Science has got your back.

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……S.Y.N. has just finished retrofitting the Thunder Hammer, our chic  ‘Rods from God’ tungsten-tosser, into the world’s easiest home basketball installation kit:

HOOPS FROM ON HIGH! Previously meant to deliver telephone poles of death anywhere on the planet, Stuff You Need can now embed a fun and healthy family favorite right in your driveway or cul-de-sac.

 

Behold the majesty...

Behold the majesty...

When you buy the kit at any local sporting goods or heavy weapons facility, you’ll find a tiny disc, barely an inch thin – and that’s it!  No huge pipes to carry home or nets to weave, just a wafer-thin microchip that you might mistake for snack.  (Note: Do not eat.)


……Toss that baby right where you want your hoop and we’ll take care of the rest.  Once activated, the disc will contact the satellite, which will calculate telemetry and other cool things, then safely hurl your basketball net right at you at 36,000 feet per second.

 

"Here it comes kids!"   "I love you Mom."

"Here it comes kids...RUN!"


……Soon your kids will be enjoying one of the fastest growing sports in Europe and best of all, you’ll barely have had to lift a finger: thanks Science!


(Warning: Hoops From On High may cause atomic level issues for your surrounding neighborhood – do not place basketball hoop on any fault lines or accidentally activate the tracking device while in your pants)

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Recall Coordinator

Recall Coordinator

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……Oh man.  See, I thought this one was a no brainer.  Something the kids would go crazy for and use all summer long in a fun and respectful manner.

……Shows what I friggin’ know.

……I thought it was gonna be a beautiful adaptation of something wholesome and life affirming into a family friendly kid’s toy. 

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You know, like this:

We attack on Christmas morning!

We attack on Christmas morning!

And this:

One Nerf, One Kill

One Nerf, One Kill

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So when we started shipping out the new radio controlled bullet guns to the Army, we thought we’d once again let the awesomeness of military contracting bless that classic summer kid’s toy and perfect them – that’s right: Smart Gun + Water Gun = Maximum Fun!

What kid wouldn't want to spend their summer in camouflage?

What kid wouldn't want to spend their summer in camouflage?

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The XM-25 SUPER SMART SOAKER fired -25 ºC bursts of pure frozen water that corkscrewed through the air, cutting through any material, until a second pull of the trigger shot the ice bullet with a high intensity laser, instantly boiling it and soaking the target with a massive wave of water.

……No more could Billy just hide out in the barn, or Tommy say you’d missed him.  Oh hell no – he’d be wet like he’d never been before!


…….Yep.  It was all fun and games, until some kids started shooting the damn things into nice peoples’ houses and ruining their furniture or soaking Sunday brunch parties.  One little monster shot up a factory full of those “Just Add Water” Foam Dinosaurs….so awful.
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……Also, some people got icicle impaled and internally scalded, but that’s besides the damn point!  Just give us back the freakin’ rifles you brats.

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Good Boy

……Oh Center for Disease Control, we could just kiss you.  Without you, how would we have ever known that almost 25,000 people a year are going to the ER just because they tripped over the family dog?  AWESOME.

……Well, not awesome of course for your knees (or Grandma’s hip), but awesome because it means you’ve got a reason to buy a new pair of pants!

……Specifically, Stuff You Need’s PATELLA PISSER PANTS! Designed originally to locate landmines, these fancy pants come equipped with reservoirs located on each knee and tiny, yet powerful hoses.  When the pants detect an object in front of you below crotch height, they let lose with a powerful stream of whatever you want.

……Fill your pants up with water, old booze, bleach or hook it right up to your colostomy bag if you’ve got one.  Heck, use your own urine if you want, and give your dog a taste of his own medicine.

……The Patella Pisser Pants: now you can walk around your own home with a sloshing sense of safety!

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Karnia WhelkThe whole compound got to see the new Star Trek movie this week and it was amazing!  While most of the science was of course far fetched, we loved the eco-message of the Romulan planet drill so much that Stuff You Need will be rolling out a hand-held Fission Planet Corer immediately.  Soon, you and your friends will be able to reenact all your favorite scenes from movies like Superman, A View to A Kill, and Driving Miss Daisy.

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Now, on to your Sciencized update for the week!:

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SHUNSINE: Eighty years ago, the sun acted very stand offish and generally ill tempered, hoarding all her light and giving us the cold shoulder.  And now apparently that fiery bitch is doing it again.  The question is why?  Simple magnetic fluctuations, normal cyclical change, or dry run for a supernova?  Actually, that doesn’t matter – we just need to find a way to keep Mr. Sun burning.  Our suggestion: funnel all the upcoming unsold Wolverine DVDs directly into the Chromosphere to keep the sun burning hot.  And angry.  Angry at paying to see that movie.  Darn it.

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IF GOD HAD MEANT MAN TO NEVER STOP FLYING…:  He wouldn’t have given him this amazing aircraft that never has to land, ever.  And He did.  So He must have.  Thank you, God!  But seriously, the DARPA Vulture program just looks like the natural evolution of those international flights which seem to go on forever.  Now you can board in Tuscon and never make another connecting flight or see another human up close ever again.  One thing though – if it never comes down, how do they clean the bathroom?

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OFF-STAR:  Did you know that the entire Global Positioning System could explode next year?  Every car, phone and cheeseburger that comes equipped with GPS is likely to fail spectacularly, leaving you lost and sad.  Once again, we’ll see how the populace has forgotten something as simple as the directions to the store, and will suffer when their gewgaws are taken away.  Sigh.  Looks like I put that RFID chip in my husband for nothing.

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Karnia Whelk……Oh sweet zombie Jeblon, I feel awful!  I finally got hit with that nasty H1N1 (the HONE-NONE) or Swine Flu.  I avoided it as long as possible, until Horatio came around with a bucket full of it and drenched everyone in pure pig snot.  He said T-Ray wanted to get everyone infected at once, so our chances of developing a vaccine from our weekly blood donations would go way up.  I didn’t even realize they were taking our blood, but I guess that explains the prick I feel when I go to the bathroom.

Lord! I swear, things are coming out of me like you wouldn’t believe, so let’s get you Scienced before my poor pores start drooling again.

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TEXTING – THE VIBRATING KILLER: A new study on the dangers of texting while driving confirmed that when you don’t have your hands on the wheel or your eyes on the road and are in fact totally oblivious to the world around you, you’re an idiot.  Oh yes, as a parent, I know teens are going to want to qwerty to their friends no matter what, which is why I insist on them using our brain-computer hook up in the car, so they can Tweet hands free.  It’s not the best solution, since they often black out from the strain of concentrating, but I’m a firm believer that the cops will treat your corpse with more respect if they find your hands at 10 and 2.

……(Incidentally, you can follow Stuff You Need on Twitter too, at http://twitter.com/StuffYouNeed , where all the social marketers on the planet are converging into a Twingularity)

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80085: For some reason, the ACLU is going kooky over the government granting patents on breast cancer genes.  I don’t see what the fuss is all about: what could go wrong with giant, innocently named corporations owning the rights to the very building blocks of life?   At worst, they might aerosolize cancer, but that would just put this Swine Flu in perspective, no?

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ONCE YOU GO BLACK… : You can bet our ears perked up this past week when we saw that the Pentagon’s budget for Secretly Clandestine Black Ops went past the magical $50 Billion mark.  Phasers, weaponized drone bees, satellites that can  Photoshop you into embarrassing situations with your neighbors from miles up – oh yes, its all in there.  But Stuff You Need, ever the voice of reason, has to ask: where’s the love?  Sure, you can build all kinds of fun gadgets and DARPA can make all of Oklahoma’s hair green on alternate Thursdays, but is $50 Billion going to hollow out the Moon and make it Earth’s personal Death Star to conquer the galaxy?

……No.  It’s not.  And that’s a shame that I don’t think will sit well with the American people.

……It’s high time for all the red blooded Americans of this great land to rise up and shout:

“WHERE’S MY DEATH STAR?”

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We’re tired of paying all these taxes without something really cool to show for it!

“WHERE’S MY DEATH STAR?”

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We demand that planet America be ready to plunder Pluto’s pulchritudinous pesos!

“WHERE’S MY DEATH STAR?”

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We are waiting for your reply, President Obama.

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Karnia WhelkCinco De Mayo!  A day late, but I can still enjoy the wonders of drinking the ceremonial Fifth of Mayo to celebrate.  I make my own mayonnaise at home, so I know it’ll go down smooth (the secret is just a hint of Malibu rum when you whip the eggs!).

But my, it’s been a heckuva week since last time I got to Whelk at all of you…a swinging Supreme Court Justice announced his retirement (yep, I’m a Souter-groupie!),we saw the tragic tale of a man dying slowly from extreme metal poisoning in the big screen true story Wolverine, and of course, we had a worldwide epidemic that nearly toppled the global infrastructure that secretly rules all our lives.

……Except then it turned out that the Hamthrax wasn’t too bad, as long as you stopped your daily habit of rubbing bacon under your eyes to hide your sleep bags.

……So everything’s good now right? Well I guess not, because I’ve just heard about…dum dum dum:

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RACCOON FLU! :  Just when you thought it was safe to bring out the garbage, those adorable ringtails are trying to kill you with their poop!  Technically, its worms, not flu, but be that as it may, I don’t think it’s improper to say that we are already doomed by this coming worldwide pandademic.  Those Dr. WHO guys should just go on maximum alert and tell everyone: DO NOT EAT STRANGE RACCOON POOP YOU FIND IN THE STREET.    Maybe this time, people will listen.

(I’d also suggest that Israel get on the ball and try to change the name of this thing to “Canadian Poop Flu” as soon as possible, so they can avoid offending anyone.)

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TESLA TIME: A sad story comes out of Long Island, as it appears fantabulous science magician Nikola Tesla’s old lab Wardenclyffe could be eradicated.  A beacon to all science extremonizers who would follow him, Tesla is a heck of a lot more fun that that constipated old Edison.  Have you been to Edison’s place in Florida?  BOOOORRING.  Give me sexy Tesla’s underground cavern at Tunguska or his deathbed pauper’s hovel in the New Yorker Hotel instead.

Ultimately, I don’t know that Niki would be all that broken up about his old L.I. estate being made into condos, though I expect anyone living there will have to contend with late night experiments and hearing a spectral J.P. Morgan bitch about not getting his money’s worth.

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NUCLEAR WESSEL: And finally, in honor of the upcoming reboot of everyone’s favorite adaptation of Buck Rogers in space, Star Trek, the real Enterprise has gone into drydock for extensive repairs.  Yes, the Navy finally accepted our bid to upgrade the old sea dog into a top flight space vessel, capable of interstellar bombing runs and publicity junkets (provided Paramount doesn’t get too handsy).

If you act now, we can guarantee you a chance to help us test out the effects of an actual ‘warp-core breach’, up close and personal.  You’ll be just like your hero Spock, except we’re not getting anywhere near that safety glass to play Dead Man’s Patty Cake.

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As always, send me your questions or acid spewing flames!

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stuffyouneed[dot]9000[at]gmail[dot]com

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