Aaron Bruns

Dear People Who Are Coming To This Website Because of Aaron Bruns:

Please get lost. We are not child pornographers or perverts or anything like that. We were just some college kids writing satirical news stories for our friends. Most of us are 30 years old now, married and/or having children, and haven't spent any time with Aaron in several years.

So go away and stop slandering our names please. We have nothing to do with this.

Thank you,

The Tank Staff

Scott's Battlerap for Jason

Check it out, Jason....for reference, please visit www.bradleyhiphop.com.

(opening verse sung in higher-pitched, smooth, R.Kelly style)

I've been feeling something lately,
And I think it might be love
I take your picture to my bedroom
And you know just what it does
I wake up every morning
Thinking only about you
Your pretty face, your poke-out ass
Those sexy things you do

I wonder if you'd love me
If we were closer by
I can feel you pull away from me
And I think I know why
Your suspicions are well-founded
But they are out of place
See I've turned a new corner
Been straight since '98

(draw out last line)

(beat drops)

Yo, Molly, girl listen up....
I know you know those rumors, well girl now they ain't true
A man grew up inside me, a man you never knew
It happened once we parted, it changed my fuckin' world
Molly, you got me jumpstarted and now all I like is girls
You see that kid knew in high school, he was so confused
Been brought up in pink diapers and watching GEM cartoons
Wouldn't play with G.I.Joe, 'cuz he said that it was 'crude'
He bit yo' ass in preschool 'cuz he thought you were a dude
He put on wack-ass dance shows, he'd always end up strippin'
Dad flipped and tried to fix it with Playboy subscriptions
Like Rainbow Brite, stayed up a night, with My Little Pony
Hatched a plan, joined the band, uh-oh Tuba-roni!
Took a beard to prom (no not his mom) and danced a foot away
Gave shrugging 'maybes' to all the ladies who asked if he was gay
He poked around in college, experimenting late
But now that shit's behind him, been straight since '98

Chorus (shout and reply, many voices on shout, one voice on reply)

Straight since '98!
Girl, I want your body
Straight since '98!
Girl, yous a hottie
Straight since '98!
Shorty, let's make this happen
Straight since '98!
Yo, never listen to the Cracken
Straight since '98!
Ooh, I like your size
Straight since '98!
Yo' booty and yo' thighs
Straight since '98!
Still got love for my homies
Straight since '98!
Wonk! Wonk! To all the phonies

I straightened up, started flying right, by thinkin' of you, Molly
My peeps want to say I'm happy now, well they just call me jolly
I practiced thinkin' 'bout you 'til it gave my jimmy burns
I can get you off girl, but I'm sure you got concerns
You learn 'bout girls in high school, but in those years I missed 'em
I studied up a lot since then, I used the bases system
Second base was tricky, and third was just disgusting
But now I like all four just fine, so girl you can trust me
My references are off the hook, and all them girls is elegant
I can crush like LBJ, the playa not the president
Two to one says I'm more fun, I'll be your greatest lover
I lay more pipe - day and night - than both Mario Brothers
Can play the field like Torii Hunter, but I want only you
We can go out every evening, you can even bring your crew
But if your girls clown me when I call you for a date
Ima tell those hos to fuck off, I been straight since '98

Chorus (similar shout and reply)

Straight since '98!
Girl, I want your body
Straight since '98!
Girl, yous a hottie
Straight since '98!
Shorty, let's make this happen
Straight since '98!
Yo, never listen to the Cracken
Straight since '98!
Ooh, I like your size
Straight since '98!
Yo' booty and yo' thighs
Straight since '98!
Still got love for my homies
Straight since '98!
Wonk! Wonk! to all you phonies

(last line repeats as beat fades)

(talking slowly over fade)

Molly, girl...I'll be seein' you in Cleveland..look me up..I can
make you happy....and tell that mark-ass bitch Keys to recognize..he
don't know me like that

Same Sex Marriage? Nice Try Gay People

I mean this is really too much. I let your rub your ‘domestic partner dental plan’ in my children’s faces and your ‘joint checking accounts’ over the grave of my good Aunt Rachel, but this latest trespass will not go unchallenged. Same sex marriage? Nice try gay people.

Anyone with half a brain or one redeemed soul could tell you gay marriage is nothing but selfishness. Please allow me to demonstrate. If you’ve ever known anyone trying to plan a wedding, you know what a nightmare it is to reserve a reception site. Now just imagine what would happen if hordes of gay people started competing for the same limited number of reception halls. On second thought, don’t imagine that…the idea is too horrific to think about.

Ready for another instance of unabashed selfishness? Married gay couples will undoubtedly try to adopt children, draining the supply of orphans that keep the orphanage industry thriving. Who cares about the happiness of investors who buy stocks in orphanages? Obviously not gay people.

Of course these outrages are merely assaults to common decency and courtesy; the worst ramifications of gay marriage hit much closer to home. I’ve got two daughters and a son, so I know I’m stuck paying for at least two weddings (or just one if Emily’s acne doesn’t clear up), but this gay marriage thing throws everything up in the air. If my son turns gay from listening to too much techno music, I might have to pay for half of his wedding costs. That shit is bullshit.

I work for a living, so you can imagine just how little time I have to deal with this same sex marriage mishagas. It’s hard enough balancing work, family and AA meetings in this work-a-day world; making me spend time everyday thinking about gay people being married would throw my whole schedule into chaos. Forcing me to deal with gay marriage is an invasion of my privacy and an attack on my lifestyle.

I know in the end it doesn’t matter what I say; you gays will never stop trying to get special rights. You don’t care how your hell-bent quest to create loving families is threatening the very foundation of my marriage. You don’t care that I feel uncomfortable when I dwell excessively on your personal lives. Like I said before, you’re just selfish.

REPUBLICANS, DEMOCRATS TARGETING NEW SWING VOTER

…And He Makes It FUNKY

WASHINGTON -- Political experts agree: the key to winning what has become one of the closest presidential races in recent memory will lie in that crucial group of issue-oriented undecided Americans known as “swing voters.”

The Soccer Moms helped Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton win the presidency in 1992. in 2002, NASCAR Dads pushed the Republicans back into power in the United States Senate.

This year, Democrats and Republicans have their eye on another family named swinger: Soul Brother Number One, James Brown. That’s right – pollsters believe the James Brown vote holds the key to who will take the White House in 2004.

Democratic pollster and spiritual medium Carroll Eventyr says his party has been courting the Brown vote longer and harder than his GOP rivals. “You think Republicans were buying ‘Sex Machine’ in 1969? They got into JB after Rocky IV and ‘Living in America,’ but we’ve been there since the original ‘Live at the Apollo.’ We love that beautiful black man.”

Republicans say forget the past; they believe their party has more to offer the Godfather of Soul today. “Lets face it: The Minister of the New, New Super Heavy Funk is a big star and has a ton of cash – and we have a lot of experience looking out for the rich. Hell, we made one ignorant rich white guy President,” says Bush/Cheney campaign spokesman Bartley Gobbitch. “And even though the Democrats have more lawyers to defend the Hardest Working Man in Show Business when he goes nuts, Republican administrations have years of practice looking past those crazy benders. Domestic Violence? Marijuana? Weapons? That’s just a Tuesday night for Clarence Thomas.”

Experts say that Mr. Dynamite’s vote is crucial for many reasons. “First, Mr. Brown is still an icon in the black community and has been ever since “I’m Black and I’m Proud,’” says Georgetown Dean of Funk Noel Slothrop. “Who else are those darkies going to follow…Jesse Jackson? Louis Farrakhan? (hearty chuckle)”

“But most importantly, both parties have attached an almost totemic importance to family-nicknamed blocks of swing voters. They tried reaching out to Deadbeat Dads and Mothers I’d Like to Fuck, but their grassroots efforts to get out the vote faltered. Sistah Souljah was also unresponsive. Soul Brother Number One was next in the list.”

For his part, the Original Disco Man's mind is still not made up. When reached for comment at his home, he threatened this Tank reporter with a shotgun before fainting, recovering, donning a purple robe and a crown, fainting again, recovering, grunting several times, molesting two young women, and finally returning inside to watch the Olympics.

MOB UNEMPLOYMENT ON THE RISE

Wise Guy on the Street Blames Bush Economy

Mafia unemployment rose 3.2% last month, as overall job loss numbers in La Cosa Nostra reached their highest level since the Great Gotti Crackdown of 1990. A study to be issued next week found that 5,600 goombahs lost their jobs in July, and there is no relief in sight.

Mafia experts agree that the typical foot soldiers are the hardest hit. “How’m I supposed to feed my wife ‘n kids, much less my goumada girlfriend?” says recently laid off Genovese family cugine “Man Tits” Mickey Boombatz. “I mean, whaddya tell unemployment, I just got canned from my job clipping wise-guy gavrones? And there ain’t no food stamps that’ll get ya the chicken parm from Vincent’s on 57th. I checked.”

Mob informant turned economist “Mohammad” traces the job loss to the weakening of the urban economy under Bill Clinton, but since “Mohammad” ratted out his brugad for protection after a simple math error led him to sell 200 kilos of babania for $35, his opinion is widely ignored.

Most current employment-challenged greaseballs blame the Bush economy for their predicament. “If my hard-on-with-a-suitcase cousin Vinny can’t keep his job as a wise-cracking southern defense attorney specializing in rescuing Italian youts from the racist southern justice system in this economy, how’m I s’posed to keep working in my crew clocking snitches?” asks Carlo “Chink-eyes” Grabbassi.

Former Bonnano capo Joe Bannanas, downsized in March, believes that the current administration’s economic and foreign policies have created an arid environment for Mob business.

“Them tax cuts don’t help nobody but the bosses. And now they got a taste of money, they use them loopholes and outsource good wise-guy jobs to India and Timbuktu. They got them dot-headed turban motherfuckers popping our stooges now, slapping our hookers, racketeering. And they’ll do it for 5 rupees and an Uncle Ben’s minute rice meal. How ya gonna compete?”

For his part, former Gambino consiglieri Tony “Literally the Tallest and Fattest Italian Man I’ve Ever Seen” Tatti thinks that President Bush’s foreign policy has made the old mob soldier obsolete.

“We got these terrorists, these fucking guys. Instead of putting out hits on useless babbos, bosses save money by just sending some unlucky putz to the Statue of Liberty or Wall Street. I mean, they figure Al Qaeda’s bound to hit one of them places and take care of the problem, no charge.”

Tatti says the war on terror has also created a recruiting problem. “You got your war on terror. Now half the crazy nut-job killers who used to get jobs whacking guys in the Bronx are in world’s asshole fighting al Qaeda, and the other half are JOINING al Qaeda.”

Last week, shylock Johnny Tomatoes tired of the unemployment line and tried to unionize guinea labor. Tomatoes was found shot 8 times and dumped in the Hudson River, apparently unaware of the fact that the Unemployed Mob Labor Union was under Mob control.

Gangsters have suggested a myriad of solutions to the unemployment problem, from voting for John Kerry to simply organizing a massive conspiracy to have George Bush shot on a presidential trip to Texas and then place the blame on a lone Russian trained patsy – a task that many in the old guard have performed before. But recently fired fence “Gorgeous” Johnny Hatchetface has his own fix: “whack that Donald Trump, for firing everybody and giving people ideas.”

The Washington Bureau Weighs In

MEDIA BLITZ FOR TRUTH
New action group shows its tit in response to their tat

Washington, DC -- Attacks on John Kerry’s war record by the Republican-linked veterans group “Swift Boat Veterans for Truth” have been taking their toll on Kerry’s candidacy, according to a new LA Times poll. But another political action group has stepped up to defend Kerry’s qualifications to serve as the next commander in chief.

The “Common Sense Americans for Common Sense” (or c-Sacs) will unveil a media blitz of television and radio advertisements next week, leading up to the release of their own book to counter the Swift Boat vets “Unfit for Command.” The Tank has obtained advance copies of the ads and the one-page book, entitled “Way More Fit for Command Than the Other Guy.” It is printed here in its entirety.

-------------------

EXCLUSIVE: “WAY MORE FIT FOR COMMAND THAN THE OTHER GUY”

“John Kerry fought in a war for his country; George Bush didn’t.”

------------------

“The Swift Boat veterans have brought a number of charges against John Kerry, saying that he exaggerated his accomplishments and didn’t deserve his purple hearts or his bronze and silver stars,” says C-Sacs executive director Tantivy Mucker-Maffick. “Our book deals with each and every claim against John Kerry’s war record, and we think it makes a pretty compelling case.”

Georgetown University’s Roger Mexico, an professor of political media and Bush Bashing, agrees. “Besides the detailed rebuttal of each and every argument that George Bush is a better commander of our armed forces because there’s some sliver of doubt about the extent of Kerry’s wounds, ‘Way More Fit’ relies on undeniable facts instead of the shaky memories of aging white men with Post Traumatic Stress disorder and Napalm Poisoning. There’s no getting around the obvious truth here.”

To promote the book, C-Sacs will air a series of 5-second TV ads with the same message. The ads feature the disembodied head of Abraham Lincoln, who says that John Kerry served in Vietnam and George Bush did not. “Extensive focus group studies show that America trusts Abe Lincoln, dead or alive,” says Mucker-Maffick.

But one man who hates Abe Lincoln is Captain Tyrone Blicero, chief propaganda officer for the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth. “This ad and this book are completely disingenuous. We served with John Kerry, although not on the same boat and not all at the same time,” says Capt. Blicero. “We were there, although it was a long time ago and the vast majority of us went on record approving his medals at the time. For C-Sacs to bring up a trivial distinction between Kerry and our President, who allegedly served in the Texas air national guard when he wasn’t busy with other very presidential things, is preposterous.”

It's OK to Come Out Now

Alright guys, I think we've laid-low long enough for Versteeg to think we just quit the site. You may now resume normal Tank work.

Slogans

First of all, with all the celebrity hating and point/counterpoints being thrown around, I propose we work towards a "Celebrity Issue" of the tank for our first outing (if we get an official home on the web, that is)

Second, I'm putting out a call for new slogans. The old Tank slogan, "We handle the stories other papers won't touch with a ten foot pole," is fantastic...but it's from another time, a relic of a bygone era. I want to hear some ideas. Tossing a few out there...

"The Tank is Law. You are Crime."
"The Tank: Kaleidoscopic Maximalism"
"The Heart of a Lion; The Brain of a Journalism Robot"
"Edward R. Murrow Ain't Got Shit On Us"
"We Report so You Don't Have To"
"Fair and Balanced News, starting in 2026"

Scooter, I Demand Satisfaction

Scooter, I demand satisfaction, the kind that can only be had by exposing a mark-ass trick for the trick-ass mark that he is. It has been three days since I posted a very direct and insulting challenge to your comedic abilities, the content of which included disparaging remarks about your flamboyant wardrobe, your lack of skill on the basketball court, and the meaninglessness of your existence. What sort of man is content to sit idly by while his good name is sullied and his honor and sexuality are called into question? Perhaps a few words from William Wallace will help to rouse you from your torpor:

"Fight, and you may get played out by Versteeg. Run, and you'll live, albeit under the pseudonym 'Jeff's Little Bitch.' And dying in your bed many years from now, would you be willing, to trade ALL THE DAYS, FROM THIS DAY TILL THEN, TO COME BACK HERE AND TELL STIGGY'S LANKY ASS THAT HE MAY BE FUNNIER, BUT HE'LL NEVER BE MAN ENOUGH TO WEAR A PINK SHIRT!"

I tire of this charade, Scoot. Trading snide comments back and forth is a poor substitute for a true match of wits. So pick a topic by Monday or you'll never hear the end of it.

Here's Your Article, Jason

Here's the damn blood money.  Please turn my electricity back on and take the lien off my savings account.  Y

Point-Counterpoint

Well, we’re coming up on the beginning of another school year and invariably our thoughts must turn to academic rebirth - to the new year and the exciting new recruits it will bring to campus.  And no, sports fans, I’m not talking about your football teams.  I’m talking about the incoming class of impressionable young girls.  Freshman coeds are one of the main ingredients in the socio-sexual smorgasbord we call college and there are a couple of blue-chip prospects out there who have signed their letters of intent and are ready to saddle up.  I’m referring, of course, to the Olsen twins, who are set to matriculate at NYU in the fall. What two 18-year-old millionaires hope to gain from college- other than 30 pounds and an exhaustive knowledge of fraternity basements- is beyond us, but the Tank prides itself on keeping its finger placed firmly on the pulse of young America and this is a hot-button issue.  So management trundled down to the basement and presented the Point-Counterpoint Department with this resolution:

You want the Olsen twins at your school.

Pro

Are you kidding me?  I haven’t seen a slam dunk like this since they found the bloody glove.  But a bucket is a bucket and I’ve got a couple minutes to spare on this one.  There are about a million reasons to want Michele Tanners doodling away next to you in Psych 101, I’ll just reel off a few of the most important.

1. You might hook up with them.

First of all, yes I said THEM.  Not one.  Them.  One of the most important and fundamental laws of this universe is that twins are a package deal.  Two for one.  Buy one, get one free.  You do not have to deal with them as separate people, individuals with unique hopes and desires and dreams.  Twins are freaks and can be treated as such.  You get a twin on the line and you’re eating double that night.
Second, yes I said YOU.  This is not a humor magazine for stuck-up royalty or trustifarians or those damned Eurotrash male models.  This is the Tank.  Normally, the Olsens are the exclusive domain of all those jerk-offs I just mentioned.  That’s the way it goes with celebrities.  But take them out of Beverly Hills and take away their publicists and agents, and what you’re left with is a couple of 18-year-old girls going to college.  You know what that means?  At that point the playing field is leveled.  They’re on your turf.  They will drink to excess.  They will take drugs.  They will feel insecure.  They will feel ugly.  They will be willing to make a mistake.  All you have to do is be in the right place at the right time. Advantage: Tank reader. 

 
2. Little things are funnier when celebrities do them. 

Our celebrity-worshipping society often makes it seem like the rich and famous are not subject to the daily inconveniences and embarrassments suffered by us mere mortals.  This is of course not true, but it creates just enough cognitive dissidence to make the idea funny.  Me waiting in line at the DMV and cussing out the clerk?  Frustrating and somewhat inappropriate.  Robert DeNiro in the same situation?  Hilarious.  Me getting punked out by some girl at the bar?  Funny.  Hurtful, but funny.  Substitute Freddy Prinze, Jr.?  I just peed my pants.  You get the idea.
Well, college is filled with tons of those little embarrassing moments that we all take for granted.  Now imagine if you could up the ante by having celebrities around for all of them.  Watching a girl stumbling back home at 9:30 on a Saturday morning with tussled hair and disheveled clothing is funny.  It is way funnier if that girl is the Olsen twins.  Olsen twins inventing lame excuses for turning their papers in late.  Olsen twins caught cheating on a mid-term.  Olsen twins pigging out at two in the morning at Taco Bell.  Olsen twins puking at the Delta Chi mixer.  Funny when it’s you.  Funnier when it’s them.

 
3. These two are ready to go ballistic.

I’ve already heard rumors from my boys in NYC that people have gone into parties and seen the Olsen twins doing blow.  Outrageous.  That sight alone would be worth the price of admission.  Ashley is anorexic.  Mary Kate is an addict.  Or the other way around.  Or they both are both.  Who cares?  The semester hasn’t even started yet and these two are making headlines.  You know how it’s fun to be friends with the real rich girl who parties all the time and throws around tons of cash?  Well these girls are billionaires and it’s their money.  The parties will be hot.  The champagne will be flowing.  The girls will be easy.  The twins have been coddled and protected and micromanaged their whole lives.  They are fixing to explode.  If they’re at your school, pull up a chair, crack open a beer and get ready.  Even from the cheap seats, the view will be spectacular.  

 
Con

Moby Dick.  I guess that book’s supposed to be about man’s search for God or truth or himself...some garbage like that.  Go ask the guy behind the counter at Starbucks.  I was an economics major and to me that book is just about some asshole wasting his whole life hunting around for a damned white whale.  Ahab probably could have gotten a lot of good things done with his life were it not for his fishing addiction.  Feeding the hungry.  Sheltering the homeless.  Loving his women.  I’m just riffing here.  The thing is, I don’t really blame him.  You show a whaler the biggest gastropod he’s ever seen – and the beast is white as the driven snow – and he’s gonna get obsessed.  He just can’t help himself.  The solution is to never let him catch a glimpse of Moby Dick.  Minus that burden, Ahab is a successful businessman, a devoted husband and father, and a community leader.  Also the whole crew doesn’t die and that wicked dude Queequeg is still kicking it.  A rosy picture if not for that damn whale. 

Why do I bring this up?  Because if you get the Olsen twins at your school, you’re gonna waste all your time chasing a white whale.  College could be a time of great fun and learning and growth.  Or you could at least lose yourself in a wash of drunken days and dreamless nights.  You start traipsing around after Hollywood eye-candy and you’ll end up just like Ismail: all alone and lost in the world with nothing but a coffin to bury yourself in.  Maybe you just fail a couple classes and graduate a semester late.  Point is, chasing after the Olsens is a zero sum game.  What exactly do you hope to accomplish?

You think you’re gonna score?  Look at yourself.  Taking a swing at the driving range doesn’t make you a PGA golfer and a couple of awkward, fumbling, alcohol-inspired advances do not make you a lothario.  These young ladies have been hit on by the cream of the crop.  We’re talking famous actors, jet-setting businessmen, landed aristocracy.  Something tells me that a 19-year-old marketing major with good pot connections and every episode of The Family Guy on DVD is not gonna cut it.  I recommend trolling after whatever comes out of the frat houses around 2:30 and being grateful for anything you get.    

You think they’ll be your friends?  Please re-read the previous paragraph.  What do you think you’re bringing to the table?  A good sense of humor.  Loyalty.  Maybe you’re a good listener.  Or a nice person.  Celebrities don’t care about these things.  You better have mad loot, access to mad loot, a talk show, established and dependable media connections, a new movie coming out, or truckloads of cocaine if you want to join this party.  Wait, though, you have a big heart and an honest soul and the Olsens are sure to see past all the superficiality in the world and find out that the things that really matter in this life don’t cost a dime, don’t cost anything at all, in fact, except an open mind and a willingness to trust.  I oughta smack you in the mouth.  This is not a Hilary Duff movie.  You are not famous.  You are not rich.  You will not be their friend.

F&$# the Olsen twins, you say?  All you wanna do is hang around and get in on some fun times?  This is by far the most dangerous way to think precisely because it seems the most reasonable.  You know they want nothing to do with you and you’re fine with that.  You don’t particularly want anything to do with them.  You just want a little of their fame and fortune to trickle it’s way down to you.  Maybe you luck into one sweet party they throw and it will all be worth it.  Wrong.  While you’re off on your wild-goose chase, the Olsens will be at a private club or in a private plane or at the Playboy mansion...basically all the places you don’t have the power or the pull to even approach.  They don’t go to dive bars or frat houses or house parties.  They’re like Keyser Soze.  By the time you even get a whiff of them, they’re gone.

Don’t be too hard on yourself.  It’s normal to think this way.  It’s probably what anyone of us would do in your place.  And that’s why you don’t even want the chance to screw up.  Remember how much better off Ahab would have been if he’d never seen that hump like a snowhill.  Now think about that every time you wish Mary Kate and Ashley were playing quarters in your dorm room.