What do you think of when you hear the name "Team Last Call"?
"Integrity?" Sure.
"Class?" Can't argue with that.
"Fart jokes?" You bet.
All of those answers are correct. But there is one that is even correcter, and that answer is "solver of the world's greatest mysteries via rigorous research on the internet." Or as we like to call it, "the Truthnet."
Over the past few years, Team Last Call has become a frontrunner in the field of journalism, and we owe it all to the Truthnet. We were the first to report on, among other important issues, Mark Wahlberg's third nipple and the link between driving a Hummer and having very, extremely, laughably small genitalia.
This month, we will tackle what might be our most difficult question to-date: How do you throw out a trashcan?
It's a more complicated issue than you might think. Like, think about it: When you want to throw something away, where do you put it? That's right, in a trashcan. But what happens when that trashcan is the very thing you're trying to throw out? How do you throw a trashcan into itself?
It's a trippy situation. Trying to reason your way through it is like staring at the sun – you can only do it for so long before your senses are fried and you're sent reeling on a cosmic journey through space and time until you end up face to face with the gnashing jaws of the universe devouring itself for all of eternity while simultaneously stretching ever outwards into the limitless horizon of nothingness.
Whoa, dude. Consider your mind blown.
So, as you can see, this is a truly difficult question. Coming up with a solution is a nearly futile task – almost as futile as asking Miss Teen South Carolina, such as, to figure out why U.S. Americans, including people in South Africa and the Iraq, like, can't find the United States on a map, like, such as.
But, as Dan Quayle once astutely observed, "If we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure." That's exactly how Team Last Call felt when it came to solving the trashcan dilemma.
We had a trashcan at home that was missing its handle, only had one wheel and had a gigantic crack in its bottom. (Then again, who doesn't? Zing!)
That's why we thought that, by dragging the trashcan out to the sidewalk and laying it on its side, it would be sufficiently apparent to the trash collectors that we wanted to throw it out.
But no, that didn't work out at all. When we walked out of our house the next morning, there was our old trashcan, all sprawled out on the ground like Lindsey Lohan. It was at that point we realized it was time to consult the Truthnet.
We started out on Google, whose very first link was to a YouTube video titled "How to Throw Out a Trashcan" that was so incredibly stupid that it became funny, transcended funny completely and came full-circle back to stupid. Kind of like one of the president's speeches. Zing!
Finally, after hours of painstaking research on such sites as evalongoria.com, we were able to dig up a few suggested solutions for the trashcan dilemma.
The first suggestion was to simply place our trashcan in an even larger trashcan. But what happens if you ever have to throw out the larger trashcan? You need an even bigger one? Clearly, we are walking a slippery slope here. If we follow this path, our trash bins will continue to get larger and more sophisticated until eventually they overpower the government, enslave the human race and turn the planet into one giant trash heap. Frankly, that's not a risk we are willing to take.
The second suggestion the Truthnet cited was to smash our old trashcan so that it couldn't possibly be mistaken for a can that was still in use. This sounded logical enough, so the following week we went outside and jumped up and down on our can until it was flatter than the Olsen twins. Then we dragged its carcass to the curb and went to sleep all tingly and excited for trash day.
Totally didn't work. We left our house for work in the morning, and there was our trashcan, peering up at us from the sidewalk in defiance. The situation was looking dire. We were starting to think that the only way we were going to get the can from our house to the trash heap was by dressing it up as Taylor Hicks' career.
But then we found it – an answer to the riddle that was so simple it was genius: a "free" sign.
It was perfect. After all, we live in a neighborhood where you can get rid of virtually anything that has a "free" sign on it. Broken appliances, stained mattresses, dead bodies – even Nickelback albums: you name it, someone out there is willing to take it off your hands. It's like that old adage: One man's trash is another man's really bad taste in music.
So back to the curb went our trashcan, this time accompanied by a piece of cardboard with "free" scrawled across it.
It worked like clockwork. That trashcan was gone faster than Paris Hilton's virginity. Just like that, the crisis was over. The great trashcan mystery had been solved. Now it's up to all of us to take this message to the rest of the world, to educate the people of America, including those in South Africa and the Iraq, about how they, too, can successfully throw out their old trashcans, like, such as.
"Integrity?" Sure.
"Class?" Can't argue with that.
"Fart jokes?" You bet.
All of those answers are correct. But there is one that is even correcter, and that answer is "solver of the world's greatest mysteries via rigorous research on the internet." Or as we like to call it, "the Truthnet."
Over the past few years, Team Last Call has become a frontrunner in the field of journalism, and we owe it all to the Truthnet. We were the first to report on, among other important issues, Mark Wahlberg's third nipple and the link between driving a Hummer and having very, extremely, laughably small genitalia.
This month, we will tackle what might be our most difficult question to-date: How do you throw out a trashcan?
It's a more complicated issue than you might think. Like, think about it: When you want to throw something away, where do you put it? That's right, in a trashcan. But what happens when that trashcan is the very thing you're trying to throw out? How do you throw a trashcan into itself?
It's a trippy situation. Trying to reason your way through it is like staring at the sun – you can only do it for so long before your senses are fried and you're sent reeling on a cosmic journey through space and time until you end up face to face with the gnashing jaws of the universe devouring itself for all of eternity while simultaneously stretching ever outwards into the limitless horizon of nothingness.
Whoa, dude. Consider your mind blown.
So, as you can see, this is a truly difficult question. Coming up with a solution is a nearly futile task – almost as futile as asking Miss Teen South Carolina, such as, to figure out why U.S. Americans, including people in South Africa and the Iraq, like, can't find the United States on a map, like, such as.
But, as Dan Quayle once astutely observed, "If we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure." That's exactly how Team Last Call felt when it came to solving the trashcan dilemma.
We had a trashcan at home that was missing its handle, only had one wheel and had a gigantic crack in its bottom. (Then again, who doesn't? Zing!)
That's why we thought that, by dragging the trashcan out to the sidewalk and laying it on its side, it would be sufficiently apparent to the trash collectors that we wanted to throw it out.
But no, that didn't work out at all. When we walked out of our house the next morning, there was our old trashcan, all sprawled out on the ground like Lindsey Lohan. It was at that point we realized it was time to consult the Truthnet.
We started out on Google, whose very first link was to a YouTube video titled "How to Throw Out a Trashcan" that was so incredibly stupid that it became funny, transcended funny completely and came full-circle back to stupid. Kind of like one of the president's speeches. Zing!
Finally, after hours of painstaking research on such sites as evalongoria.com, we were able to dig up a few suggested solutions for the trashcan dilemma.
The first suggestion was to simply place our trashcan in an even larger trashcan. But what happens if you ever have to throw out the larger trashcan? You need an even bigger one? Clearly, we are walking a slippery slope here. If we follow this path, our trash bins will continue to get larger and more sophisticated until eventually they overpower the government, enslave the human race and turn the planet into one giant trash heap. Frankly, that's not a risk we are willing to take.
The second suggestion the Truthnet cited was to smash our old trashcan so that it couldn't possibly be mistaken for a can that was still in use. This sounded logical enough, so the following week we went outside and jumped up and down on our can until it was flatter than the Olsen twins. Then we dragged its carcass to the curb and went to sleep all tingly and excited for trash day.
Totally didn't work. We left our house for work in the morning, and there was our trashcan, peering up at us from the sidewalk in defiance. The situation was looking dire. We were starting to think that the only way we were going to get the can from our house to the trash heap was by dressing it up as Taylor Hicks' career.
But then we found it – an answer to the riddle that was so simple it was genius: a "free" sign.
It was perfect. After all, we live in a neighborhood where you can get rid of virtually anything that has a "free" sign on it. Broken appliances, stained mattresses, dead bodies – even Nickelback albums: you name it, someone out there is willing to take it off your hands. It's like that old adage: One man's trash is another man's really bad taste in music.
So back to the curb went our trashcan, this time accompanied by a piece of cardboard with "free" scrawled across it.
It worked like clockwork. That trashcan was gone faster than Paris Hilton's virginity. Just like that, the crisis was over. The great trashcan mystery had been solved. Now it's up to all of us to take this message to the rest of the world, to educate the people of America, including those in South Africa and the Iraq, about how they, too, can successfully throw out their old trashcans, like, such as.
