FFWD Weekly
Copyright © 1999. All Rights Reserved

Mr. Smutty by James Martin On clear nites, I like to stare at the stars & contemplate the origins of humankind. (As opposed to cloudy nites, when I simply obsess over how funny it'd be to see a monkey riding a dog in a steeplechase-style situation.) Caveman aficionados have long pondered the fate of the vanished Neanderthal: where on Earth did the furry fellas get to? (Insert Ben Stiller joke here.) Now, Portuguese scientists are arguing that we're actually the kooky offspring of Neanderthals and "anatomically modern man." (The latter not to be confused w/ "anatomically correct man," who insists he just stepped outta an icy bathtub.) Discovered by accident on the Iberian peninsula, an ancient skeleton lends new weight to "hybridization" theory. This so-called "Child of Lapedo" is a veritable missing link, exhibiting both modern (jaw, teeth, spleen) and Neanderthal features (femur, tibia, Camaro keychain). Carbon-dating shows the skeleton to be 25,000 yrs old. Blind-dating shows the skeleton to be a poor conversationalist. Neanderthals & "anatomically mods" may have co-existed on the Iberian peninsula for 10,000 yrs, sunning themselves on the beach and inter-rutting like crazy. So it's not like the Neanderthals disappeared, they just became us. Personally, I think it's pretty cool being the bastard offspring of an unholy union between gross hairy people. But I can see how it could "bum out" some civilized folks. Like that dude in Indiana who's been performing amateur castrations, free for the asking. (Sez he's just helping gents curb their sexual desires, thereby preventing men from mating with, y'know, ducks and stuff.) Police searched the guy's apartment and turned up medical supplies & videos of successful operations & jars of testicles. According to his neighbours, the culprit "was such a quiet man. And kind, too. Why, every Christmas he'd give away the tastiest homemade candied plums." Italy's Supreme Court is also doing its part to prevent sex shenanigans, ruling that having innercourse (w/ any species, including yr own) in an automobile is considered "public obscenity" and thusly punishable by three years in prison. (In a controversial "ol' switcheroo" decision, however, this same court has ruled that it's perfectly legal to pretend yer bed is a racecar and/or pirate ship.) For those horny couples who simply must engage in backseat bump'n'grind, the court suggests covering the car's windows w/ newspaper or those giant cardboard sunglasses or, in a pinch, steam. The whole deal seems uncharacteristically prudish for Italy. After all, Pope John Paul II kicks off his Abba Pater album w/ a flurry of scr-scr-scratchin' before rapping the disturbing lines "Hi kids/ Do you like violence?" I mean, sex can be a beautiful thing between two strangers in a car or alley but violence is capital-T trouble. And for the Pope of all people to pander to today's WWF/WCF-fed teenage bloodlust is simply irresp... wait a sec, maybe I'm thinking of Eminem. (I always get those two confused: which one's the funky white guy?) In conclusion, Mr. Smutty T-shirts will keep you cool in the summer and, uh, pretty cool in the winter too ’cuz it's not like they're made of wool or nuthin'. If you want warm, buy a llama and ride it to Mexico. But if you want 100% style, wriggle into a Mr. Smutty T. (L or XL, they're equally nifty.) Rest assured, people will mock you w/out mercy if you don't own one, so get Mom to write a cheque/money order for $19.95 (payable to "Stink Ant Productions") and gamble a stamp: Box 1103 Station M, Calgary AB, T2P 2K9. You will not be warned again, at least not until next week. (I'm not kidding about those shirts. Don't force me to start selling stereo speakers from the back of my van. Again.)

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