Script For Tebow Super Bowl Ad Revealed; The Plot Thickens.....

An anonymous source has leaked the content of the upcoming controversial Super Bowl broadcast advertisement featuring University of Florida superstar, Tim Tebow, and his mother. Apparently, the ad has as much to do with the Tebows' religious beliefs as it does with getting the young quarterback into the NFL as a higher draft pick. The source inside the Focus on Family who gave reporters the synopsis of the TV spot spoke on the condition that his name not be used, but those on the scene reported the shadowy figure wore a number 15 Florida Gator jersey and sported strips of what appeared to be black tape with a Bible verse reference printed on them underneath his eyes.

According to the source, the advertisement, that is scheduled to air late in the third quarter of the game, opens with Tebow walking across the misty surface of Lake Alice on the western side of the University of Florida campus. Upon arriving on the shore, he is surrounded by all manner of young wildlife, including bunnies, fawns, lambs and bluebirds. Tebow picks up a lamb and begins to speak:

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"Verily, I say unto you, behold the majesty and power that is Tebow, the Quarterback. For I come unto you, my brethren, to share the message from on high that I shall reigneth supreme in the NFL. I shall smite those who would bear false witness about me, just as surely as I will smite all those who would try in vain to intercept my passes."

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of defensive ends, I will fear no blitz; for my hands are sure and my feet are as the leopard as he dashes through the wilderness. Just as I have done in college, so shall I do in the pros, for I am mighty and just and a favorite in the eyes of the Lord, who assureth the team for which I play victory and riches beyond knowledge. So saith the Lord."

Then, Tebow's mother, Pam, enters from off-screen. "My son is favored among men, for when I was with child in a faraway land, the physicians decreed that my womb should be purged of his presence, lest I should perish. But I knew in my heart that my child would one day rise up to lead Gator Nation to glory. And he shall do so likewise in the NFL, for as it is written, so shall it be this very day in this very land, that ye shall know his might."

"For, behold, the Saints are being slain by those who would worship the Beast who bears the mark of the hoof by four touchdowns with but a short time remaining. Now it will be that the leader of the Saints, who is called Drew Brees, will be stricken with a plague of boils and will be unable to do battle when the quarter of the fourth shall begin. And there shall be a great wailing and gnashing of the teeth springing up from the peoples of the Cresent City, that they would be vanquished and submit to the Beast."

"But, lo, as the darkness approacheth, there will come a mighty wind from the north of this very land that is the city of Gainesville, and his name shall be Tebow. And the Saints will fall on their knees that Tebow might take up their fight, for they are Saints."

"Now, there are those who would keep Tebow from putting on the shoulder pads of righteousness and march with the Saints this day to slay the Beast, saying, 'But, he has not signed, he has no contract with the Saints and Draft Day has not yet come. He has no place here.'"

"Yet Timothy would put asunder those chains of unjustness, for the laws of man cannot overrule the will of the Almighty, who hath decreed that he should prevaileth over the Beast. And Timothy shall destroy the temple that is called by the name of the fish that swims on the land and shall lead the Saints to victory and will smite the Beast, and they shall have no defense against him."



"And Timothy, he of the tribe known as Tebow, shall be exalted by all those who will bear witness to his glory, as he leadeth the Saints not once, not twice, but, verily, five times into the zone of triumph and will vanquish the Beast, that the favored of the Lord may be victorious in their quest for the prize that is the called the Trophy of Lombardi. Surely, the Saints will go marching in this day and for as long as Timothy shall lead them."

Local reporters sought comment on this astounding prediction of fame and fortune for the young star from the mother of Pam Tebow and grandmother of Tim, Mrs. Edna Sopchoppy, a resident of the Just Biding Our Time Nursing Home in Sarasota, FL, who apparently was decidedly unimpressed by all the hoopla.

Irate Sailor Pillages and Plunders Bird Key After Run-In With Local Law Enforcement

"As the son of a son of a sailor,
Pete Shaw went to the sea for adventure....."

Then, he came to Sarasota and found rich people and their attorneys.

The good Cap'n Shaw made the mistake of anchoring just a little too close off Bird Key to suit one anonymous resident who called the Sarasota Police Dept. to scuttle the scurvy dog.

So, they did.

The local constabulary slapped him with a $250 ticket for being parked 148 feet shy of the 500-ft. required by local ordinance. The skipper intends to fight, based partly on a portion of Florida state law that prohibits the regulation of anchorage by local governments. And he has experts to back him up, including the legal eagles at Boat US, a boating group with 600,000 members.

Sarasota's legal authority, city attorney Bob Fournier, says that the state law does not apply to Sarasota, as do so many other laws, including those of physics, nature and common sense. Fournier is betting that Sarasota has deeper pockets than this bilge rat and will take this case all the way to the Supreme Court, as city and county attorneys are wont to do when things get slow around the office. Gotta show the taxpayers that they're earning their salaries, you know......

Shaw began his love affair with the open sea when he was just a lad, tooling around Sarasota Bay on his parent's dining room table, which he outfitted with a cast-off Evinrude.

After being thrown out of the house by his parents who were incensed at having to eat on the floor, young Pete built his own houseboat with all the comforts of home, including a private party deck with wet bar (ever popular with the ladies), and lived the good life cruising up and down the west coast of Florida.

Shaw even built his own runabout to access the shore when he couldn't maneuver his vessel into shallow water.


Over the years, Cap'n Shaw finally worked his way up to the boat of his dreams and proudly sailed his sleek 35-footer luxury cruiser, christened Chicken of the Sea, throughout the Gulf of Mexico, the Caribbean and the south Atlantic. You can imagine his chagrin at being told by the Sarasota Police Dept. that some landlubber objected to him anchoring his pride and joy outside of their picture window, saying that he and his boat were bastardizing their view of the bay. "It's like a stranger coming up to you and telling you that you have an ugly baby," says Shaw.


Shaw, as likely to get a fair a shake from law enforcement in Sarasota as Juan Perez before the videotape of him getting kicked was made public, has taken matters into his own hands. Authorities allege that Shaw silently made his way ashore on Bird Key in the dead of night yesterday and terrorized the wealthy enclave by threatening to burn down the guard house at the entrance, thereby allowing anyone and everyone--the 'common people', Shaw called them--to come onto the exclusive island.

For the appalled residents, the idea of mere peasants setting foot on their island paradise was too much to bear, so they identified the anonymous complainant. Shaw immediately set his beard afire and choked the man to death, as seen in this surveillance photo:



Shaw remains at large, although authorities believe he may be headed for the Outer Banks region of North Carolina, specifically Ocracoke Island, where local law enforcement intends to behead him and place his head on a pike when he is apprehended, as requested by the residents of Bird Key.

Fistfight Breaks Out Between Bush And Clinton While Filming Haiti Relief PSA

Reports have surfaced regarding an alleged confrontation between the two former presidents while filming a public service announcement at the behest of Pres. Obama to solicit help for the Haitian relief effort. Apparently, Pres. Clinton felt that Pres. Bush was not taking his role as a humanitarian seriously enough and grew angry when Bush veered from the scripted plea and failed to recite his lines at the proper time.

Clinton accused Bush of making a mockery of the proceedings, at which time Bush repeated, "You're making a mockery out of this, George," and laughed in Clinton's face. Clinton, visibly irritated, pushed Bush off his chair and onto the floor, threatening him with a punch in the nose.

Bush then promised Clinton and the videographer that he would quit fooling around and do the spot correctly, but when the camera started rolling again, Bush began mugging into the camera and silently mouthing the words Clinton was speaking. With that, Clinton paused, looked at Bush and struck him squarely on the jaw, sending the former president to the floor once more.

Bush, astonished that Clinton would have the audacity to sucker punch him, leapt onto Clinton, toppling him from his chair. Both former leaders of the free world wrestled around on the carpet for a minute before staffers could separate the two and restore order.

Fresh makeup was applied to cover the mens' scratches and bruises, especially Bush's rapidly swelling lower lip, Clinton's torn shirt collar hastily mended and both of their prized American flag lapel pins were adjusted back into place and the filming continued.

At the conclusion of the spot, Clinton angrily left the set, but not before calling Bush "a jackass." To which Bush replied, "I know you are, but what am I?"

Video from a Dutch producer reveals what transpired just before the altercation erupted:

Nation Mesmerized By Sarasota Courtroom Drama

A judicial melodrama played out in a Sarasota courtroom late last week that wrestled away the nation's attention from the earthquake in Haiti, the legislative struggle over health care reform, the continuing economic woes and, surprisingly, the shakeup in late night TV, with a case that showed off the best that Sarasota has to offer--love gone wrong, a bitter divorce, personal accusations, a contested paternity, high-powered attorneys in a pitched battle for high-priced stakes, wads of cash, Hollywood, a mother's love and a cute factor of 85 on a scale of 1 to 10.

It's the heart-wrenching tale of Eli, the chimpanzee that everybody wants.



The case revolves around the disputed custody of the primate between Mike Casey, who contends that Eli was born at a chimp farm he formerly operated with his ex-wife, and Eli's current love interest, a Sarasota monkey maven with a moniker straight out of Tinsel Town, Virginia Valbuena, who has been caring for the monkey and counters that she adopted Eli from a California wildlife park. Casey wants a DNA test to determine Eli's true parentage because the mini-ape is worth a cool 65 grand to him and he wants to prove the little guy came from his chimp farm.

Valbuena, on the other hand, views Eli as more than just chimpanzee chattel to be fought over by two sparring spouses. She and Eli have developed a familial bond stronger than the almighty buck that is at the core of Casey's case. How do you put a price tag on love? Other than what you might be able to score on the North Trail on a Friday or Saturday night....

Citing care issues, Valbuena lobbied to bring the precocious primate into the courtroom, testifying that "no one would notice the difference between him and an 11-month-old baby "unless they looked closely.'" Mothers of 11-month old babies everywhere are mobilizing to slap a defamation of character class-action lawsuit on Valbuena just as soon as her chimp case is closed. Several religious groups from across the state are also considering a legal challenge to the "human-like" treatment the chimp is getting, arguing that they have already proven Darwin's theory wrong and that this is an abomination to all "Christian custody-challenged children everywhere."

Following lengthy legal wrangling and emotionally-charged testimony, the judge decided against swabbing some spit from the mouth of the monkey to determine his DNA and is witholding his judgement pending more information. Thus, Eli was returned to the custody of his handler, the vivacious Miss Valbuena, in a tender moment on the steps of the courthouse, much to the delight of the gathered throng of media, papparazzo and various other hangers-on.



Then, in an instant, the Kodak moment turned into an afternoon of horror as the normally docile Eli, frightened by the crush of humanity around him, the noise and the flash of the cameras, changed from a cuddly ball of fur into a raging maelstrom of death and destruction.



Eli flung the horrified Ms. Valbuena over his shoulder and charged through the crowd, slashing stunned Sarasotans in his wake. He made his way up Main Street as police poured from their headquarters across the street from the courthouse, reluctant to fire upon the monkey-run-amok for fear of hitting Ms. Valbuena.

With police cruisers blocking his way on Main, Eli headed back toward the bayfront only to be met with more arriving police, forcing him up Rt. 41 in a desperate bid for freedom, only to find that artery choked with despairing senior citizens, concerned that the chaos would preclude them from their favorite early-bird dining establishments. The frantic fugitive had but one avenue of escape remaining--UP!

Eli rumbled his way up the well-manicured drive of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel and began to climb with the desperation of a wanted felon, climbing ever higher in a hopeless attempt to leave his would-be tormenters behind and find a safe haven for his beloved Gini and himself. Upon reaching the very top of the edifice, Eli soon realized that his escape was to be temporary at best, as below, the crowd swelled with angry townsfolk, police on overtime and hotel guests complaining about the monkey and screaming woman with the heaving bosom in front of their windows, blocking their panoramic views of picturesque Sarasota Bay for which they had paid a premium to procure.

Sarasota Police Chief Peter Abbott put in an emergency call to the Venice airport, requesting aerial assistance to bring down the chimp and was put in immediate contact with Phantley Boggs, commander emeritus of the Retired Air Aces of Argonne. Commander Boggs had but one question for the chief, "Have you cleared this with City Manager Bartolotta and the Police Advisory Panel?" Upon confirmation of same, the RAA of A scrambled their squadron of Handly-Page aircraft to confront the wayward primate.

As the airplanes buzzed angrily about the head of the beleagured chimp, he tenderly placed the petrified Valbuena out of harm's way and prepared to do battle with the relentless enemy. The guns of the planes spit fire and death as they again and again swooped in toward the solitary figure perched precariously atop the parapet. With ever increasing futility, Eli tried to swat away this winged menace while they poured volley after volley of deadly fire into his furry little body.

Eventually the merciless adversary proved too much for the star-crossed chimpanzee as he clutched his breast and, losing his grip, tumbled down, down, down the side of the luxury hotel, crashing to the unforgiving pavement below.

It was there that Eli, the chimp, drew his final breath.

As police units from Sarasota P.D. stood with their feet resting upon the crumpled corpse of the chimp (ostensibly just to keep Eli from getting up and hurting himself), a reporter asked Chief Abbott, "'Twas it beauty killed the beast, Chief?"

"No, lad," Abbott wistfully replied, "I fear 'twas the plenitude of bullets from the water cooled .303 Vickers machine guns of the airplanes and the blunt force trauma suffered in the fall from the roof of the building, you moron."

Citizen Group Throws Out Orioles At The Plate, Looks To Make It A Double Play

Just when it looked like spring training was all set to continue in Sarasota with the arrival of the Baltimore Orioles next month, the curmudgeons that make up the Sarasota Citizens for Responsible Government want to keep the O's baseball, even though it wasn't yet hit into their yard and didn't wreck a single petunia in their flower bed, but, they're assuming, those bratty rich kids from up north are secretly plotting with some other snot-noses from here in town to do just that. And the noise, too; those damn brats make all that noise when they play, too, don't forget that.

Because baseball is fun and, if it's fun, it ain't allowed in Sarasota.

Despite what looked like a sure victory with the scheduled start of spring training to begin here in a few weeks, this "citizens group" made a spectacular leaping grab at the wall off a carom, wheeled and unleashed a strong throw to home where several attorneys were blocking the plate, just itching for a collision so they could all fall down holding their necks and writhe around in pain until the ambulances came to take them to the bank of their choice.



The Sarasota Citizens For Responsible Government hope to hold a gala 'veiling' of the Ed Smith stadium sign when they ceremoniously drape a big, blue tarp over the "Welcome Orioles" sign.

The Sarasota Citizens For Responsible Government (herein to be known as SCFRG as a cost savings measure) contends that their duly-elected representatives from the city and the county threw a spitball to strike out their efforts to get baseball banned from Sarasota and are protesting the called third strike. Like any sore loser, they have resorted to name calling and kicking dirt on the umpire's feet and when that didn't work, the SCFRG is now trying to mount a full-scale, bench clearing brawl by involving all the citizens of Sarasota to vote in a referendum to determine the outcome of the game.

Taking your case directly to the people instead of going through regular legislative channels for your pet project is a time-honored tradition here in Florida, ie, our 2002 'pregnant pig' constitutional amendment and our 2000 'bullet train' constitutional amendment. Both of these grass-roots citizen referendums worked out so well, what could possibly go wrong with this one?

The commissioners are still smarting from the beating they took at the hands of the Boston Red Sox this past off-season. Believing the sultry promises whispered in their ears from Red Sox owners about the two of them hooking up for a good time, the commissioners rushed out to buy their hot date a present of $3 million worth of parking lot, run-down strip club and other sundry businesses to show them the county was serious about building their dream date a beach-front McMansion we're famous for, only to be left jilted when the Red Sox did not get a divorce and, in fact, renewed their vows with Lee County when they promised the Sox a bigger, newer house, just like the one they had back in Beantown.

Sluts..................

The commissioners, on the rebound, sobered up, changed their shirt, showered and shaved and went out looking for love in all the wrong places and brought home the Orioles, who had been in an unhappy relationship with Ft. Lauderdale for some years. Not the trophy babe that was the Red Sox, but, at least, Sarasota wouldn't have to go through spring training alone and looking foolish after the Cincinnati Reds walked out on Sarasota last spring to go live in Arizona, after threatening to do for some time.

Only now the self-annointed 'parents' of the commissioners--the SCFRG--absolutely do NOT want those rich, under-achieving Orioles in their house and refuse to recognize this unholy union, laying down the law to prevent its consummation by holding a voter referendum on the issue. They are also demanding two public meetings to discuss the "pros and cons of spending public funds for baseball" after seeing the erudite civil discourse that occurred during all those health care reform town hall meetings this past year.

The SCFRG also demands that neither the city nor the county be allowed to lobby against the referendum, essentially imposing a gag rule on their elected representatives. No word on whether or not any other groups besides the SCFRG would be allowed to lobby voters.

And the county must establish a permanent oversight committee to make sure they don't talk about issues behind closed doors since, as everyone knows, that's the only way things get done in politics.

And, most importantly, the county must pay the estimated current legal fees of $50,000 racked up so far by the SCFRG. Good God, don't forget about paying the lawyers!

Buoyed by this recent success in throwing a monkey wrench into the already sputtering, oil-leaking, smoke-spewing 4-cylinder economic engine that is today's Sarasota, SCFRG is gearing up to revisit another area hot button issue, namely the new Ringling Bridge, which replaced the outdated, unreliable drawbridge that connects downtown to St. Armand's, Lido Key, Longboat Key and other tourist destinations where they are wont to spend their vacation dollars.

The oft-photgraphed span, which opened to traffic in 2003, has become a stunning additon to Sarasota Bay's already-bulging portfolio of glamor shots and is widely praised for its beauty and grace, as well as its utilitarian nature.

But, back in the day, there were those stick-in-the-muds that liked that old 1959 drawbridge just fine, thank you very much, and fought tooth and nail to keep it. Now, with the apparent success of the likes of SCFRG, there is hope anew to mount a referendum campaign to tear down the new Ringling Bridge and re-build the old Ringling Bridge.

Working to bring back "Old Florida" to Sarasota.......

Obama To Relocate Entire Population Of Haiti To South Florida

In what is certain to be a highly controversial decision, Pres. Obama has announced plans to relocate the entire population of Haiti to South Florida in the coming months in order to facilitate the rebuilding of that beleagured nation following the recent earthquake there.

In a speech he intends to deliver to Congress and the American people this evening, Obama will call for emergency funding to transport, feed, clothe, house, educate and, of course, supply free medical care like America offers every other indigent on the planet, to the nearly nine million surviors to the Florida Everglades, where they will reside for a period not to exceed 10 years while reconstruction takes place in Haiti. Once that process is complete, the Haitians will then be transported back to their homeland.

Plans are for the new Temporary Haiti to be comprised of all contiguous lands south of Lake Okeechobee, east to I-95 and west to of I-75, excluding, by definition, the Keys and the wealthy enclave of Marco Island. While the land comprises just marginally less area than Haiti itself, administration officials are quick to point out that this arrangement is temporary. Said Press Secretary Robert Gibbs, "Like they say in Florida, don't make your guest room too comfy or you'll never get rid of your company." We want to be clear that we do not intend for this to be a permanent arrangement with the people of Haiti."

Map of what is to become 'Temporary Haiti.'

When asked about the existing population of the proposed area, Gibbs replied that the million or so people already living there will have to move beyond the boundaries set forth by presidential decree. "To be clear, the United States government is not seizing these lands by eminent domain, but, rather, simply borrowing them for ten years, then they can move back. We realize that the Miccosukee Indian reservation comprises a large part of this parcel, but this country has a time-honored tradition of confiscating land promised to Native Americans. This administration is proud to continue that tradition."

Florida governor, Charlie Crist, sees this as a win-win situation for the state. "Having Haiti relocate to the Everglades will be a boon to the state's economy on many levels. First off, many Floridians will be involved with the transporting of the Haitian people to our state, as well as supplying them with food and clothing until they become self sufficient. In addition, Floridians will be working to rebuild the canals that we recently filled in when the state tried to reinstate the original water flow through the Glades. Now we need to drain all that reclaimed land so our new Haitian neighbors don't have wet feet while they're here."

"Florida residents will also be called upon to build millions of chickee huts for housing our visitors. This type of structure will be the perfect shelter for this operation, as it is environmentally friendly, ecologically sound and essentially temporary. Once the Haitians leave, the huts will blow away in the next hurricane. And, if a hurricane blows them away before they Haitians leave, then Floridians will get paid to build them again!"

"A chickee is a type of home invented by the Northern Seminole tribe. Chickee is the Seminole word for "house". The chickee style of architecture - palmetto thatch over a bald cypress log frame - was born during the early 1800s when Seminole Indians, pursued by U.S. troops, needed fast, disposable shelter while on the run. A raised wooden platform was also built into the sleeping and working chickee to provide cooling and protection from animals, insects, and flooding. Each chickee had its own purpose and together they were organized within a camp type community. Chickees were used for cooking, sleeping and eating." Wikipedia

"I envision one day soon when the vast wasteland prairies of the Everglades will be filled with millions upon millions of chickee huts, teeming with happy Haitians, singing about the wonders of their new homeland, Temporary Haiti."

"Well, it's not like we don't have the room for them or anything. Ever been to the Everglades? Just miles and miles of nothing......." Charlie Crist

When asked about the delicate ecological balance of the area, Gov. Crist said, "If we Floridians couldn't kill the Everglades with rampant development, pollution and the ravages of 'Big Sugar' decimating the land, I don't think having a few million Haitians here for ten years will make that much of a difference. Besides, if we can get the Haitians to view wild python as a cuisine delicacy, there's another problem solved!"

A stunning aerial view of the nothing that surrounds the newly re-named Lake Obama in north central Temporary Haiti.

Sarasota Prof Wages Junk Food Jihad On Local Schools

Lake Erie College of Medicine, located in Manatee County (go figure!), nutrition professor, Dr. Oren Rosenthal, has declared war on the waistlines of Sarasota County school children by submitting his menu manifesto to the school board. When received with a less than enthusiastic embrace of his ideas, the good doctor took his fast-food fatwa to the streets.

Studies indicate that some 41 percent of sixth-grade students in Sarasota are, according to strict interpretation of government guidelines, overweight and Rosenthal thinks that is primarily due to the proliferation of unhealthy food promotions that abound in the school system. Like any good conspiracy theorist, he keeps the evidence in a non-descript three-ring binder, containing damning contraband like the three rolls of Smarties, three Hershey kisses, three Starburst chews and one Jolly Rancher given to his daughter upon entering first grade with the note: "Welcome to First Grade. Here's a little survival kit teacher made just for you!"

She might just as well have given her students a pack of Camels and a six-pack of Bud.

And anonymous sources indicate that this monster continues to teach our children!

The professor's Mein Kampf, Someone Is Not Doing Their Job In Sarasota Schools_ School Board Letter_2009, is a compendium of the nutritional affronts foisted upon the children of Sarasota by the school system, ie, "allowing cupcakes into the classroom for birthday parties and.....snow-cakes and hot chocolate for Christmas parties," "ice cream galas for 'A' students," "a caramel a school bus driver once gave (his daughter)(to be fair, the bus driver had found the caramel on the floor from an earlier run and considered giving it to the girl as recycling and not assisted suicide by sugar)," "coupons for McDonald's that other bus drivers have handed out," "a person dressed in a Chick-Fil-A costume was a judge at the elementary school science fair" and the indignity of his daughter's third-grade math assignment, "all of which involved theoretical M&M candies."

Rosenthal contends that had the math quiz involved broccoli and beets, his daughter would not be repeating third grade this year.

Rosenthal is calling for a 'zero tolerance' policy on unhealthy food, believing that moderation has no place in today's society. His idea of giving his children a sweet treat is watering down their juice so that it becomes mostly water "to stop their taste buds from craving sugar." Good times, indeed.

Once Rosenthal is successful in rooting out all vestiges of junk food in the schools, he intends to take his campaign of 'no fat, no sugar, no carb, no fun' into the community and into the home, vowing to rid the streets of the fast-food pushers on every corner that feed the addictions of junk-food junkies, Happy Meals be damned!



Easter eggs would really be eggs, all organic from free range chickens, no yolks, of course. The menu at summer picnics at the beach or the park would consist of raw fruit, raw vegetables, no carbs and that old standby, watered-down juice. Mmmmmmm.

Halloween? Note to children everywhere--skip the Rosenthal's place, unless you have a hankering for freshly-scrubbed carrots and chilled brussel sprouts. Turkeys everywhere would no longer fear November, since tofu turkeys would be mandated by the mad doctor of menus.

And those yummy Hanukah and Christmas treats that Grandma makes every year?

This would become Rosenthal's Public Enemy No. 1: