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February 21, 2005
Washington, D.C.
Junior Bacon
Negroponte pauses impatiently as President Bush interrupts his acceptance speech yet again by wandering in front of the cameras
I
n a move that surprised the slow and feeble-minded alike, President Bush appointed diplomat John Negroponte as America’s first Director of National Intelligence this week, in an attempt to shore up the nation’s failing mental defenses.

“Now this may be a case of the pig callin’ the posy pink,” folkified Bush, our national leader and self-described folk hero. “But y’all is dumb as shit.”

Surprised and appalled by his own re-election, sources report Bush quickly decided something needed to be done about national intelligence, and the lucid and well-coordinated Negroponte was the obvious answer. Speaking in complete sentences and rarely attending to bodily itches with his house keys are said to be the strong suits that brought Negroponte to the ...Read more...


Argument over which hotties men would do turns violent

New Adams Dollar Coin Already Worth 75 Cents

Guy said no onions on his Whopper—dig the wax out of your ears

Stocks Plunge- Wait, No, Stocks- Shit- Stocks Soar, Hold On- Stocks- Fuck



February 28, 2005

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Future Imperfect

My God, sir, the future is in jeopardy! And not the good kind, like Celebrity Jeopardy.

I found this out most recently, with my keen inductive powers, and a little help from my ham radio. Longtime commune readers, a species rarer than the bald eagle, are familiar that we frequently receive transmissions from Future Bob—it's this constant flow of information that keeps us reassured our actions in this time period don't louse up the future for generations to come. We've upheld this burden well for a long time. But then guess what happened.

That's right. The future's gone flunky on us. Well, not all of us, perhaps, but flunky on me, and that's more than enough. I was sharing a delightful conversation with Future Bob most recently, discussing the various odors of cheeses and our favorites, when I asked him about the Bagel clan of his time. He was puzzled, and told me he hadn't met any Bagels in his time. What a disaster! Only a few years ago, when we first met, he assured me the Bagels were around and quite prominent in his time. Either he was a complete fake, not in the future at all, or the future had been devastated by our actions in their past. Being a huge fan of The Terminator movies, the obvious choice was the latter.

I could hardly believe it, but it wasn't quite the first time. Other incidents reported by Future Bob, such as the Fruit Famine of 2003, or the complete nuclear annihilation of the world in 2004, have failed...Read more...


º Last Column: Ratings Bonanza
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October 1, 2001

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I Have Just Seen American Booty

Good people, it is not very often a movie can change your life. That a movie can make you feel good to be alive, and can make you feel, after all, maybe the world is not a heaping pile of dung. I have just seen such a movie. American Booty.

Yes, you may be saying that the movie I speak of is over two years old by now, that it was over-hyped then and why see it now? Or, like the young smarmy film snob who checks me out at Blockbuster phrased it, "Dude, you ain't seen this yet? How weak."

Maybe it takes Rok Finger a little bit longer to catch on to a trend, you always have to beware passing fads like pop music and insulin. But once the hype had died down, I try to check out every meaningful piece of media in our culture. I can say with positive knowledge now that American Booty is among the most meaningful pieces of Americana produced in the past ten years.

For those unfamiliar with the film, I'll describe it briefly. An American Everyman husband, Slam Scrotum (played ably by Jock Large), is having a midlife crisis at twenty-five. His wife, Tits Ahoy (Janet Jackoff), is having an affair with some uncredited black guy, while his daughter (Kris Cum Loudy), who is also blonde and looks about the same age as the mother character, is having an affair with two midgets and their horse. Slam begins to daydream about sleeping with six of his daughter's friends (the Ass Girls of the Pretty Kitty Club, Houston, Texas) in long...Read more...


º Last Column: I Will Destroy the People Living in My Trash
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Quote of the Day
“Love is blindness, deafness, muteness, retardation, spinal bifida, shingles, crotch rot, Alzheimer's, malaria, gout, rubella…”

-Doctor Love
Fortune 500 Cookie
Don't spit, shit, or knit into the wind this week; as a matter of fact—stay out of the wind entirely. And those gibberish Mariachi lyrics you've been humming for the last three years—time to give that a rest. You will be mortified this week to discover that the family camping trips you've been repressing since childhood were the inspiration for Brokeback Mountain, and that you're not actually related to your uncle Phil. This week's lucky colas: Mister Flat, Diet Riot, Vanilla RBX174, Buurp, Cherry Fairy, PreP, Pepsi-dAC.


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View Past Columns
BY Melora Gray
10/27/2003
Deuce
slapped so hard his beak was loose.
But Bruce and Luce they called truce,
and drank a can of blue moose juice.
The goose he drank it through a sluice.

Norman Snoran, small recluse,
lives deep inside a red caboose.
He's solitary, one could deduce,
because his swearing is profuse.
Though some think that just an excuse.

Sorta Spellman, allow me to introduce,
a girl for which I have no use.
Some think her sullen, some obtuse.
I can forgive the way she wears a noose,
but not the day she betrayed me for produce!
Zeus is taller than a spruce,
an attribute he puts to misuse.
Storks and stiltwalkers, he does seduce,
until to tears they do reduce,
when they find his...Read more...

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