A B.C. For All Seasons

The Unauthorized Biography of B.C.

and Recipe Book

Review by NY Times Critic Alan Lipcrust

Only a deaf hermit rolled up in a carpet and stuck up Steely Dan's asshole could have escaped the cultural flood of marketing genius B.C.'s overwhelmingly popular ad campaigns of late, first for Burger King, then for Subway, ("From day one I told 'em to cut the healthy crap and add more monkey to the menu, and guess what, those tasty little banana munchers are all that's holdin' that sandwich shack together," B.C. was famously quoted as saying), and now as head of design for Italian glamour icon Donatella Versace. Every sun staring, tooth sucking moment has been captured in the latest unauthorized B.C. biography, A B.C. For All Seasons (UNO Press).

Reading the often bewildering yet undeniably exhilirating account of B.C.s formative years is like poking your eyes through the glory hole in a library basement bathroom to watch a homeless guy pleasure himself with a discarded hoagie. You find yourself both intrigued and repulsed and perhaps a tiny bit hungry as the words in the book drip like hot hobo batter from the spoiled pages and in one amazing moment, you realize that the hoagie is not just an improvised pocket pussy but indeed a metaphor for the fragility of life.

B.C., however, has a different take on the book.

"This unauthorized biography is about as entertaining as Helen Keller getting a pearl necklace from an epilectic," B.C. guffawed. He dug his toe in the dirt, twisted it, spat on the ground, looked up at the sky, turned his head, coughed, adusted his package, and queefed out a shit-eating grin. "The story's got more holes in it than a gangbang full of gay siamese twins. You want the truth?" The words bounced out like a gynecologists examination of a ten year-old mormon girl. "Yeah I've ridden the bare ass of success and sipped from the cup of gluttonous wealth. And you know what?" He paused, fingers twitching, itching for the chance to punctuate B.C.'s next prophetic words. "It tasted like rotted twat."

Though the book skips over many of B.C.s controversial years as a dirt farmer and everyday clam flopper, it's definitely worth a read, especially for the delicious black bean soup recipe.

The Bitch Is Back, Bitch! B.K. Bob Fries High On Success

Omaha (NE) - B.K. Bob, iconic fast food icon, philanthropist, gay rights activist, inventor, and registered sex offender, is back in the fry life again with a hot new look and business venture with budding entrepeneur and unapologetic life squatter B.C.

After years of seclusion in a gay nudist resort in Cabo, B.K. has re-emerged a new man, complete with a hot burger-themed style that is the talk of the Italian runways. "It's like a cross between Willy Wonka and Mayor McCheese" said Bob. "It came to me in a dream after an orgasmic evening greased with fry cook acne, pall malls, and a large helping of special sauce. The fries represent freedom and the sesame seeds, hope. The lettuce represents ass-sex."

B.K. Bob is also working on a secret business venture with all-around snake swinger B.C., who is rumored to be building a chain of topless funeral homes. "Some people say you can't sell sex and death together, but I say you can take anything and put tits on it," B.C. quipped, shifting his weight, hitching his thumb in his belt and focusing his gaze on a young couple playing grab ass in the Dairy Queen parking lot next door. "You find your wife dead in the bed next to you one morning, you're sad but you know what? You think about taking that old filly for one more trot before the clam dries up. The topless death market has no where to go but up."

The honey bears assembled at dawn and

slaughtered the jam lady around the corner.

Ben's hair was slowly sneaking away.

Warning: floor will not hold weight of adults.

New Crotch-Kicking Ranch!

Gina was cute except for that gum thing.

Krista tried too hard to impress her father.

Ralph's career as a Ragu distributor was short-lived.

Grover's battered relationship with Anderson Cooper left him 

solitary and despondent.

Beaker's legendary cocaine habit 

destroyed his dreams of singing on Broadway.

Stranded alone on a desert island,

Bohn quickly decided that clothing was optional.

"I'll take the redhead," said Ted.

Okay, I get the blow over to Mike, and..and..oh, man am I wasted. What's that? Is that a cop? No, no - it's cool. I am totally incognito.

Stompin' Tom Connors was a sun-soaked Irish tenor who loved 

beating the crap out of immigrants.

R.E.M.!  R.E.M.!  Stipe is God!

Pussy made $300 a night licking peanut butter.

Speak out against feline-special needs-masturbation disinformation!

So, Connie, thanks for answering the ad. Have you seen Double Parked I or II? 

Hook me up with your sister and I'll shave your coin purse. 

And the Grammy for Best 70s Spaceship Fiddle Album goes to...

Yes! Doug Kershaw! Devil's Elbow

Found in Frosty the Snowman's porn stash.

President-elect B.C. measures the White House drapes.

Oddly, Cindy's married name was much better than her 

maiden name, Cindy Knucklechildren.

"And then the King of England knighted me Sir Flamsy Flim Flam

 and we all dined on baby's breath and googly-eyed radishes."

Bert turned in his Marlboro Miles for a PBR casket.

Psycho and Larry's brilliant physics equations

revolutionized the way we think about the origins of the universe.

Hours later Whiskers blew himself up in a crowded dog park.

Ralph's career as an undercover cop was short-lived.

The band later fired Lisa for "not looking disinterested enough."

"Greg, you gotta stop smokin' pot, put down the Playstation,

and quit beating your pud like it owes you money."

That was the year that Paul went as

Ritchie Sambora's cock for Halloween.

Great Moments in Black History Part IV:

Curtis Briggs, the first token black guy.

Doug's telemarketing paycheck barely covered the

student loans for his theater degree.

Ronny Hubbard had a big dick and he knew it.

Xenu's Statue of Liberty audition went well, he thought.

Sandy's dreams of an all-night, all-you-can-eat

tuna casserole joint never came true.

...so that's how rich white guys like me will

always hold you back from achieving success.

The cotton candy is around the corner.

Brad liked to listen to Tom Sawyer by Rush

while he took pictures of himself in the mirror.

Later, in the alley behind the bar,

we thrashed John for years of air piano solos.

Jenny's pussy was immaculately groomed.

Christina's inability to mediate her dogs' breakup

was heartbreaking.

Jeff's fighting style was disarming.

Dirty dancing with Jackie was like

humping an incision for a liver transplant.

World's Sexiest F&B Man and Local

Pussy Snapper B.C. is Back on Top

Former gad-about-town is the toast of the Shmendricks

Omaha (NE) - Oft judged by many to be an unpredictable, leering jack-in-the-box bouncing on a crooked spring of success, former Plattsmouth gash farmer and local read-all-about-it B.C. is once again at the top of his game after a series of ups and devestating downs.

"What can I say?" B.C. smirked, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side. "They come to me. They say, B.C., we've got a problem and you're the only swingin' dick who can make it go away. And I sez to them, I sez, alright you cocksuckers, whatever it is you think you're going to pay me, double it. Then add some more. Then go home, have dinner with your family, watch a little TV, go to bed, and come in the next day with the brilliant idea of paying me even more. Then assemble that amount of money on a table, take a picture of it, and email it to me at ThatsStillNotEnough.com. No, better send it to payme@GetBent.edu.

Having evaded the limelight for months, B.C.'s sudden turn of success is baffling to some and long-overdue to others. In an interview with B.C.'s rarely public brother this week, the physician commented that "(B.C.) is displaying signs of alcohol withdrawl, porn addiction, and a false sense of well-being. He needs to go back to the club where I started my career and pay his dues by shaving backs. Then he needs to check out the tits and make a decision."

B.C. has also been seen partying around town at some of Omaha's hottest underground nightclubs like Club Gary and V. Trendy with a fair-skinned Laurel lookalike who's into activity dates and deep kissing. B.C. dismisses the relationship as, "another girl whose heart picked up what B.C. is laying down."