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Why was I born with such contemporaries?

The sweet taste of victory.

November 23: Official Lucky Glass Golf Trophy Meets Blonde Girl Who Wins At Golf Day

• 323 BC - Creation of GOLF (Gentlemen Only Ladies Forbidden).
• 265 BC - Golf drops the acronym and lets anyone play.
• 108 BC - Creation of golf trophy.
• 14 BC - First golf trophy race.
• 0 - Creation of glass.
• 45 - Creation of glass golf trophy.
• 924 - Creation of luckiness.
• 1910 - A very evil place is created, A.K.A Army & Navy Academy
• 1337 - Creation of 'Lucky Glass Golf Trophy'.
• 1502 - Creation of blonde girl.
• 1792 - Creation of blonde girl who plays golf.
• 1824 - Creation of 'Blonde Girl Who Wins At Golf'.
• 1825-2664 - Every year on this day, Blonde Girl Who Wins At Golf wins at golf and wins Lucky Glass Golf Trophy.
• 2665 - Abolition of glass, luckiness and blonde girls.

The history of the United Kingdom

The one duty we owe to history is to rewrite it.

• Forgiveness shortage. Sins Jesus died for used up!

• Those damn Aussies made the whole Swine Flu thing up!

• Warren Rupf honored by NAMBLA

• Halloween II failure prompts reboot of popular horror franchise. (Pictured)
• Is the Government doing enough to suppress the proletariat?

• Vice Versa Syndrome remains rampant

• Caroline Kennedy remembers uncle, 'Tedward'

• Protests erupt as Australia braces for Aimee Mann concert

• Mary Jo Kopechne's killer brought to justice

• CDC advocates female genital mutilation

• Indian woman unveils world's largest scissors! Stationers rejoice

• Trig mourns grandmommy's loss

• Mrs. Christ arrested for fraud!

• Altria achieves revenge on Reader's Digest

• Marriot says, "The slut begged for it"

• Lord Zedd arrested for drunken trespassing

Today in London

It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information, so did you know...

From Uncyclopedia's playwrights:

• ...that bipolar bears are not to be messed with, more-so than polar bears?

Read on

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This Month's Wit

Some generic night in some generic town. A generic storm is howling down generic streets. A generic person wakes up frightfully, staring down a hooded figure holding a scythe, which does not look generic at all. You...you...you...are...the Grim Reaper? mumbles the frightened generic person Have you come for my soul? Not at all, my dear fellow a wicked smiles forms inside the hood although it's a common mistake. I am, in fact, a Brothel Keeper, but my friends call me Necropaxx. The hooded figure winks its red eyes as it waves around what seems to be, under close inspection, a squeaky rubber scythe. Yes yes, I run a nice whorehouse for hippies down the road. Also, I make cheese. Sometime I put the cheese in the toaster. Sometimes I put my customers in the toaster. Oops, did I say that out loud? The hooded figure leans more closely towards the generically frightened person, peering at him intently. I believe you will do nicely with a nice glass of Bordeaux. Yes my dear fellow. I did not come for your soul, I came for your body. Medium rare.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we shall now commence our countdown sequence. Launch sequence initiated in ten...nine...eight...seven..." (countdown is abruptly stopped as some hysterical screams can be heard in the background) "Jesus H. Christ! What IS that thing!" "It...it...it looks like a turd...but like a...like a...500 ft tall turd! IT'S THE 500 FT TALL TURD MONSTER!!" "Wait, what is that thing it's pushing just ahead of it?" "It looks like...it looks like a coal wheelbarrow?" "And what the hell is pinned to its vile back?!" "Seems like a sign...?" "What does it say?!" "Going to Newcastle. Please walk the dog."

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