Alaska, All The Reasons Convicts Want To Live Here

Alaska is the land of pristine beauty, untouched by humankind, except for those dirty Russians, Sarah Palin, Exxon-Mobil, and the random arctic hillbilly hiding out from the federal government. But there are plenty of reasons to live here, and rather than tell you what they are, we’re just going to provide a photograph and call that good enough.

Right: Photo included to get editors to approve article. (CLICK PHOTO TO DRASTICALLY REDUCE IN SIZE)

EDITOR’S NOTE: This article is inspired by the continued lack of actual content provided by the only satire site running online longer than us. Apparently they think their readers are in perpetual comatose states, or they wouldn’t think these things count as satire… hey, if they can make a mint by being total hacks, maybe we can too… click on an ad and prove to us how much money we can make by offering virtually nothing.


2 comments on “Alaska, All The Reasons Convicts Want To Live Here

  1. Here, I’ll add something to your article to bring it up to par (which, by the way, does not pass the Alaskan Standardized Size Requirements For Journalistic Efforts which was set up by the Alaskan Supreme Court to keep everything coming from Alaska gargantuan sized, including its reading material).

    Anyway, going by the title of the alleged article above, in all truth there are a lot of wanted people who head up to the 49th state to hide out from the law. In two small communities that I lived, both of which had no road access, I was under suspicioun from the locals until they got to know me or at least got used to me. In the first I was walking along the road to the campgound I was staying at when the assistant sheriff driving by hit the breaks when he saw me examining the roadside fauna. Already aware of the game, I boldly walked up to his vehicle to introduce myself. He was surprised by this and after the obligatory questions he was satisfied that I was not a serial killer from Seattle.

    In another town the cops and probably townspeople as well (it was always too dark to see who is who) would hit their brakes or bathe me in their car lights in a menacing, suspicious way as I walked the road from where I was staying to work. Again, after time, this diminished and I was able to go about my business in peace.

    At this point my reply is longer than the original article itself so I insist that Mike’s name be erased and that I be given credit for the piece.

    Either that or I will have to add you all to the bodies buried in Seattle.

    Thank you.

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