James Bond, a longtime agent with the British Secret Service, has announced his resignation after being implicated in a vast number of sexual affairs. He issued the following statement earlier today:

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you for coming. I am here to announce that I am stepping down from my position with British Intelligence and handing in my License To Kill, effective immediately. The fact is, I willingly engaged in conduct unbefitting an individual in my profession, as I have engaged in inappropriate sexual contact with approximately 790 different individuals during my tenure with this organization, in a variety of locations around the world including numerous boats, moving vehicles, and areas just outside volcanic villain lairs, often times massively endangering myself, my sexual partner, and my mission in the process.

First off, I'd like to apologize to everyone I've hurt: To the British government and its citizens, to M, to Miss Moneypenny, and most of all, to my loving wife of more than 30 years, Susan Wertz-Bond. Suzie, you'll always be my rock, and I thank you for all of your unwavering support during this trying time.

Now, a lot of you didn't know I was married, and there's a reason for that: I'm an international superagent who constantly puts myself and those around me in mortal danger. Do you really expect me to go around wearing a wedding band and mentioning my wife willy-nilly when I'm banging villain-mistresses by the half-dozen inside laser-guarded kill-chambers? Sure, if I didn't love my wife and wanted someone to come kidnap her, I could say "sorry I'm married" and refrain from constant sex with mysterious and often incredibly dangerous strangers, but I've never been one to take the easy way out. And yes, this also applies to when I'm off duty and frequent local pubs, and when I banged that Chili's hostess six weeks ago, and when I slept with my wife's sister Denise while she was visiting her grandmother in the hospital: The fact is, you just never know who's secretly an evil double-agent, so it's best to just never mention your wife in front of anyone, ever. I stand by that.

I would also like to offer a sincere apology to those many, many women I've slept with for dragging them into this political fiasco, namely Pussy Galore, Holly Goodhead, Octopussy, Plenty O'Toole, Pussy Pussy, Christmas Jones, Pussy feat. More Pussy, Kissy Suzuki, Puss E. Pussypusspuss, that Danish girl from one of those really forgettable late-90s missions, and many other people I failed to mention, whose names contain varying levels of excruciating sex puns and/or other random words to set me up for my own sexual quips. I assure all of you, this apology isn't the only thing that's hard right now.

To the public, I know what you're thinking: Why would I consider it acceptable professional conduct to have intercourse with a mistress literally named "Pussy Galore?" To this, I have no sufficient answer, but I guess it's kind of like, you know that quote about "The bigger the lie, the easier it is to get people to believe you"? I guess I figured that if I nailed someone so cartoonishly sexual, and my wife found out about it, it would seem like it never actually happened. Does that make any sense? I mean, I know it's no excuse, but seriously, Pussy Galore?? The frickin' Austin Powers parody was "Alotta Vagina," and that's WAY LESS EXAGGERATED than the original.

I'm getting off track here. What I'm mostly getting at – other than being really sorry – is that I've read your 98 trillion Twitter jokes about "How can someone whose job requires secrecy get busted for bangin' some chick lol lol HASHTAG: I somehow didn't see everyone else in the universe make the same exact joke already!" So we can knock it off. I GET IT. Almost as funny as your "Talk about a Tickle Me Elmo!" joke. You are nailing it. I know phishing for Retweets is sooooo important for you as you're coming up the UCB ranks or whatever, but this is a very trying time for me and my family, and if you believe my sexual encounter with space scientist Dr. Holly Goodhead is some laughing matter, then really, I just feel bad for you.

In conclusion, I once again apologize to everyone who's supported me throughout the years, and while the media has been rough on me the past couple days, I promise to emerge from this experience shaken, but undeterred. That's a little joke there. It's a reference to how I like my martinis. Oh! Sorry, forgot you've never seen me in action, as my job has been incredibly secretive this entire time – my bad. Regardless, I assure the public that my conduct from now on will be far more reserved and appropriate, just as soon as I finish nailing this Sound PA under the podium as we speak.

Aaaaaaaand……..done. Thank you.

...]]> /video/6847564 http://www.collegehumor.com/video/6847564/news-station-goes-with-x-rated-version-of-petraeus-biography Tue, 13 Nov 2012 12:46:14 -0500 /article/6847523 http://www.collegehumor.com/article/6847523/10-things-general-petraeus-can-do-now-that-hes-resigned Tue, 13 Nov 2012 11:45:18 -0500

1. Finally sit down to watch Dr. Strangelove and see where all of the jokes and references he's made over the years actually came from.

2. Adopt a Yorkshire Terrier, name it Raeus, introduce it to people as his pet, Raeus, and laugh for fucking days.

3. Realize he has nothing left to lose and fuck for fucking days.

4. Grow his hair out, even if it means breaking a few mirrors trying to bash a hippie's brains in.

5. Add a "1" to the end of his passwords.

6. Think of a funny meaning for the CIA acronym and put it on t-shirts.

7. Sell his old fatigues to edgy high school seniors.

8. Drink a bunch of martinis and spy on his memory to see where it all went wrong.

9. Apologize to his wife with a flashmob and hope it goes viral.

10. Write an autobiography.