Category Archives: [REDACTED]

[REDACTED] Does Labor Day

“You hear me?  I’m not fucking around with soccer this time, assholes!”

~Redacted

Everyone has a whipping boy.  Bart Simpson has Milhouse,  Linguini has spaghetti.  America has Canada.  AFFotD has…[REDACTED].  The last few times you’ve heard from him we strapped him to an operating table like a convicted rapist in the Clockwork Orange universe and made him live-blog some women’s soccer games.  Yes, we are particularly cruel, but what would you expect from someone who made his AFFotD eating fucking vegan food?

But there’s only so much you can push someone before they snap.  And we’ve seen enough drunken beach invasions to know what happens when [REDACTED] snaps on us.  So we try to keep him happy.  Throw him a bone once or twice.

Here’s a step-by-step description of [REDACTED]‘s Labor Day.  It’s good to be the king.

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[REDACTED] Live-Blogs the WWC Championship Between USA and Japan

“I’m not even surprised at this point.  Just sad.”

~[REDACTED]

The Women’s World Cup is the biggest thing to happen to Soccer’s popularity in America since the Men’s World Cup last year that you had totally forgotten about until we just mentioned it here.  And as a result, we’ve been using it as a good opportunity to tranquilize the coffee of our investigative journalist, [REDACTED], and force him to live-blog some soccer games.  He doesn’t know anything about soccer (because, you know, America) and as much as he likes rooting for America and rooting against countries who we have fought against in wars (looking at you, Japan), he still really hates this whole gig.

And we like making sure he knows his damn place, so he was at hand to blog about the Women’s World Cup Championship match between America and Japan.  By the time he came to in the utility closet we stuck him in, we heard a lot of loud wailing, which was replaced by some whimpering and keyboard taps about five minutes into the game.  We printed up the following, taped it to a brick, and chucked it through Johnny Roosevelt’s window, so without further adieu, here is [REDACTED]‘s liquor-fueled description of the game.

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[REDACTED] Live-Blogs The WWC USA vs. France Semifinal Match

“…Holy shit, this thing is popular now?  Oh no…you’re…not again…”

~[REDACTED]


When we had our notorious undercover journalist, [REDACTED], do a play-by-play commentary of the U.S. Women’s World Cup match against North Korea, we were doing it to fuck with him.  Call us sadistic bastards (God knows [REDACTED] does) but we wanted to see him squirm.  North Korea’s women looked like men.  Our women, though American and thus blessed with both outer and inner beauty, were forced to play a sport that we’re pretty sure was invented by amputees.  An average AFFotD staffer’s response to watching a soccer match is to shout, “JUST PICK IT UP WITH YOUR DAMN HANDS IT’D BE SUCH A COMPETITIVE ADVANTAGE!”  We know so little about soccer that the first time someone in the office used the word “Pelé” we honestly thought they were saying in very rudimentary terms that they wanted to pay for sex.

…Get it?  Pay lay?  See that’s the problem, we know so little about soccer that Dane Cook could conceivably write a better informed soccer joke.  Maybe.  Well, not Dane Cook, but you get the idea.

“Ha, so, like, I was having SEXUAL INTERCOURSE with a FAIR MAIDEN and something something RED CARD!”  Seriously though, remember 2007 when Dane Cook was a movie actor?  Yeah we blocked that from our memories too.+

Of course, our mockery of the Women’s World Cup totally changed this past Sunday when America decided to wow the shit out of everyone with an engaging, dramatic, and stressful shoot out victory against Brazil.  We learned a few things.  First of all, America is going to give a shit about soccer for the next week or so.  Secondly, the Women’s team is gloriously American, right down to the player who sang “Born in the USA” into a stadium microphone after scoring a goal.  And additionally, and this is important everyone, Hope Solo is incredibly attractive.  Hot athletes are a game changer.  And Hope Solo is a glorious beacon of America.

And with that, America breathes a contented sigh.

America’s ADD-riddled minds have been captivated by this spunky collection of beautiful yet powerful athletes, and goofy but endearing role players.  Women that will settle for nothing less than victory for America.  So, we locked [REDACTED] back in the TV closet to give us a running commentary on yesterday’s World Cup Semifinal match between Hope Solo and Friends Team USA and… THE FRENCH.  Goddamn French!

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[REDACTED] Watches the Women’s World Cup Soccer Match Between America and North Korea

“[REDACTED] has been getting a free pass for far too long.  He fled our confines and how did we reward him?  We let him eat incredibly unhealthy pizza.  It has been affecting morale in the office, so we are going to make that fucker watch some Women’s World Cup Soccer.”

~Official AFFotD Memo, June 28th


As a longtime contributor, occasional hostage-situation describer, and our only investigative journalist, [REDACTED] is a fixture in the AFFotD offices in the same way our water pipes are.  That is to say, sure, they have lead, we want to get rid of them, but goddamn it it’s tough to get yourself motivated to put forth effort after your sixth Wednesday afternoon scotch and soda.  So, as per the official Memo sent to our office just yesterday, the powers that be have decided that it’s about time that [REDACTED] have to deal with some shit he won’t like.  We’re no longer letting him coast by on wild nights out or pizza binges, we’re going to actually make him write up on America based topics that the rest of the staff wouldn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole.

That’s right.  Women’s Soccer.  Ugh.  The hell is this bullshit?  That’s what [REDACTED] is going to have to figure out as we send him out to do a report on the first round of the Women’s World Cup (there’s a Women’s World Cup now?) between USA (USA!  USA!) and North Korea (…ha)

[REDACTED] is Forced to Watch a Women’s Competitive Soccer Match

 

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[REDACTED] Tries The Pizza Hut Stuffed Topping Pizza

“Alright, he deserves a break.  Let him try that ridiculous, gloriously American pizza.”

~AFFotD Editor-in-Chief, Johnny Roosevelt

A few weeks ago, we informed you of the most beautiful pizza ever concocted- the Pizza Hut Toppings Stuffed Pizza.  This glorious conspiracy against your arteries has been unleashed onto America for a limited time only, so we had to get our staff to do a review on it.  Unfortunately, most of our staff members only have collegiate degrees in cursing, and our food critic, John Goodman, is on a two week vacation to celebrate his Oscar we stole for him.  So we had only one place to turn.  We had to turn to the monster we had created, a man hellbent on revenge for the things we had put him through.

photo unrelated

That’s right.  We had to turn…to [REDACTED].  For those of you unfamiliar with his tale of woe, [REDACTED] is a staff member and investigative journalist whose name has been stricken from all of our documents to protect him from the fact that we once made him eat at a Vegan restaurant.  After a series of tricks and cruel assignments, he finally snapped and escaped from our supervision, spending a strange week drinking and ghost-walking piers in Chicago.

He’s been in isolation ever since, regaining his American zeal and, well, sanity through a series of therapeutic procedures, so…hopefully, he’s ready to see the light of day.  Because we really want to know if this pizza is any good.  We’re guessing it fucking is.

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[REDACTED]’s Week of Freedom

“You’re never gonna take me alive, AFFotD fuckers!”
~[REDACTED]

Our undercover investigative journalist, [REDACTED] has been through a lot.  We forced him to eat at a Vegan restaurant, which is the very reason why we can’t in good conscience list his name here, then after a quick apology party we got him to sign over, essentially, his soul. We made him write about cricket, and about opera, and finally, he snapped.

We didn’t hear a word from him for a week, until our specially calibrated American hunting dogs found an unusually large amount of America around the Chicagoland area.  Sure enough, that’s where [REDACTED] had been hiding out.  After we sent in the hounds (ha ha, don’t worry, they weren’t really hounds.  They were more of a wolves/huskie hybrid) we were able to bring in [REDACTED] and get his story behind his one week spent, as he put it, “Trying to get my America back on, you cocksuckers.”

Here is his tale.

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[REDACTED] Reaches a Breaking Point

“GET ME OUT OF HERE!  COME ONE, READERS, SOMEONE!  HELP ME!”

~[REDACTED]

[REDACTED] is an America Fun Fact of the Day correspondent who has the thankless task of serving as our resident Undercover Investigator.  He didn’t really want the job, he just signed up to be in AFFotD because, come on, it’s AFFotD.  Fortune Magazine would have listed us as the number one company to work for, except we spent a good two thousand words ripping on Fortune Magazine for being stupid and not knowing what’s American.  Let’s be real, you’d work here in an instant- our retirement plan includes a goddamn boat, and a free license to punch the celebrity that annoys you the worst.  We had to start using phone books to the stomach on Justin Bieber because the authorities were starting to get suspicious about all the bruises.  This is a pretty good gig, is what we’re saying.

Except for poor [REDACTED].  Ever since we sent him to do an expose on the evils of  Vegan Restaurants, we’ve had to redact his name, so that his family, friends, and, well, hopefully God, wouldn’t find out about the things he had been forced to do.  So, we tried to make it up to him by giving him a night of booze and freedom.  Of course, we took advantage of his drunken state, and signed him to do all our unsavory articles, like talking about Cricket, and he can’t really do anything about it.  Because of the information we have on him.  Because he’s eaten Vegan.  It’s not technically blackmail, but it basically is.

Anyway, now [REDACTED] is going to sit through some Opera.  Ha ha!

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[REDACTED] Tries to Write About Cricket

“What do you mean I’m not ‘allowed’ to quit!?”

~[REDACTED]

Two weeks ago, we took an investigative reporter, whose name we had to redact for obvious reasons, and let him loose in a Vegan restaurant.  Last week, we felt like we had to make it up to him, so we gave him a night full of whiskey and boots.  Of course, we also tricked him into signing a contract making him our permanent fixture as an investigative journalist.  Oh, and he can’t sue us, no matter what stresses we put him through.  So we figured we’d do the American thing…and abuse our new found freedom.  Enjoy writing a review of a game of Cricket, [REDACTED], you jackass.

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The Cure For a Night at a Vegan Restaurant

“…is…is this a trick?”

~REDACTED

Last week, we sent an Undercover Investigative journalist into the most evil place we could imagine- a Vegan restaurant.  We redacted the staff member’s name, because we knew that consuming Vegan food would leave an irreparable mark on his permanent record.  But what we saw…it, well it haunted us.  We saw a man reduced to rubble, not even afforded the decency of being allowed to chug a glass of bacon grease after his tofu crab cakes.  He was given bowls full of warmed, liquid vegetables, normally only reserved for prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.

Our senior staff members watched the hidden camera footage of poor REDACTED as he suffered through a five course meal of nothing but vegetables, tofu, and succubi.  It was painful to watch.  “Oh God, he’s losing his mind out there,” Harrison Ford, our aviation editor, sighed.

“He’s eating it!  Oh God, HE’S EATING IT!” Bruce Willis, our Barefoot Security Chief, began screaming.

“He’s going down in flames!” JFK III, the unknown-to-the-public grandson of JFK, exclaimed (it might sound like he was being insensitive, but man, you should hear how many airplane jokes the kid makes, it’s a bit fucked up).

“What have we done?  What have we become?” Johnny Roosevelt asked, bowing his head sadly.  We thought that REDACTED was done for.  He was drooling on himself, he started weeping for minutes at a time, he didn’t even crack a smile when he started slapping the waiter while screaming, “YOUR NAME IS BRIAN!  SAY IT!  FUCKING SAY IT!”

Vegans dress ridiculously.

We thought we might have lost him, and would have to chisel his name on our wall of fallen staff members, along such illustrious names as Hunter S. Thompson and Interns #1 through 354 (Interns are sort of the Spinal Tap drummers of our operation).  But there was a minor miracle, as REDACTED ran for freedom, fighting every vegetable-laden impulse telling his body to just give up, and he found the Mecca that is White Castle.  After a dozen sliders, our medical staff was on the scene, pumping him full of liquefied beef and various animal souls.  It was touch and go for a while, but REDACTED made it through.  When he recovered, we decided, one week after they day of his darkest hour, to give him a token of our appreciation.  Because we at AFFotD take care of our own.

So here, we present, REDACTED‘s night of American redemption.

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Vegan Restaurants: Why Do They Hate America? An Undercover Exposé

“No, anything but this assignment.  ANYTHING BUT THIS ASSIGNMENT!”

~REDACTED

As journalists, we take our duty to the public very seriously.  This nation has over 300 million residents, and not all of them understand the American nature of chugging a beer after dropping a hot dog into it (we call it dog bombing, and it requires a relaxed esophagus and a particular blindness to shame.)  So sometimes, we have to rub elbows with those that operate outside our rules.  Those that shun hot dogs, hamburgers, steak even.  To really get inside the heads of those that spurn these things that are so inherently American, we needed to do a little investigative journalism.  Much like Nellie Bly risked torture to uncover the evils of the mental health system in the 1800’s, Gunter Wallraff spent two years to uncover the human rights violation against immigrants in Germany, and Larry David smuggled himself onto the set of Hannah Montana to discover Billy Ray Cyrus’ evil sex dungeon, our investigators were required to go above and beyond the call of duty.

That’s right.  We sent someone into the Dragon’s Lair.  We sent someone…to a vegan restaurant.

Truly…the thing of our nightmares

And now, for the shocking truth behind a restaurant that dares not to serve meat…eggs…or cheese, here is the report from our Undercover reporter, whose name has been redacted so that his family would not leave him upon discovering he had consumed food that never took advantage of an animal at any point in it’s preparation.  Here is his shocking tale.

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