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Two Arrested, Charged with Posession of AnthraxAugust 8, 1999 |
Herman and Isley led a double life
"I can't believe it," neighbor Mildred Abramowitz said. "He borrowed my Yanni CDs several times. Now people are saying he doesn't even own a CD player. You think you know somebody..."
The album, called by some critics a disappointing follow-up to the successful Among the Living, does contain the melodic "Be All, End All" and the cover "Antisocial". Also confiscated from the car were Warrant's Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinking Rich and Trixter's se...
ocal residents of a small suburban community were stunned to find out two of its seemingly-adult contemporary neighbors, Bob Herman and Walter Isley, were secret metalheads when a routine traffic stop and search revealed the presence of Anthrax's State of Euphoria tape in their cassette deck. "I can't believe it," neighbor Mildred Abramowitz said. "He borrowed my Yanni CDs several times. Now people are saying he doesn't even own a CD player. You think you know somebody..." The album, called by some critics a disappointing follow-up to the successful Among the Living, does contain the melodic "Be All, End All" and the cover "Antisocial". Also confiscated from the car were Warrant's Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinking Rich and Trixter's self-titled debut, but authorities agree the only actual threat was the Anthrax. Detective Roger Harlan, head of the Buffalo Police Department's Corrosion of Conformity Special Squad, explained the danger of suburbanites possessing metal and speed metal albums. "The fact is that the rebellion and antisocial commentary and themes of metal and speed metal are meant for kids," Harlan said. "The idea of these themes spilling over into the homes of accountants, bankers, and homemakers is disturbing. Not only to us, but to the bandmembers and makers of the music themselves. When this music becomes the anthem of Lexus-driving corporate shells, it ceases to function and loses all integrity with the kids who sustain it." Although Anthrax could not be reached for comment, Trixter guitarist/prettyboy Steve Brown said, "Spare some change for a cup of coffee?" Lil Duncan is a senior reporter for the commune at 23, and loves bubble baths and men who smell like real men.
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Thousands Googling "weiner sext" Forced to Read About Politics Bullshit
Study: Cel fon txt msging on riz :oP
 'Paris Hilton Autopsy' Sculpture Signed to Three-Picture Deal
Chinese AIDS vaccine cheaper if you go for immunization buffet
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British Nearly Affected by London Terror Attacks ith their famously stoic façade put to the ultimate test, Londoners came through with flying colors this week, failing to register the slightest emotion in the face of stunning terror attacks on the city’s mass transit system that left 50 dead and over 700 wounded. “Oh yes, it was quite a mess,” explained commuter Harold Alburn, who was aboard one of the bombed subway trains and only survived due to being caked in a human cocoon formed by the flaming remains of his fellow passengers. “That rail line’s going to be down for weeks, you have to assume.” Jackson Prosecution Produces Bloody Glove he Michael Jackson trial escalated to the seventh level of hooplah Friday as prosecutors introduced into evidence a bloody sequined gloved that had not been previously revealed publicly. The defense requested a recess, to which the witty judge replied that no one had been good enough to deserve recess, but they would take a brief break. It gave the Jackson defense, led by attorney and Warhol knock-off Thomas Mesereau, a chance to recover from the five-fingered blow. Stealers Wheel Win Super Bowl, Says Heavily Accented Man Colin Farrell Claims Responsibility for Groin Injury That Sidelined Kwan |
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 November 24, 2003
I Never Promised You a Rose GardenI find myself shocked and disappointed with all of the commune staff. No—more disappointed than shocked, with a hint of disgust. So much so I can't even address them, you, in person. I'm hoping to express myself and my disillusionment adequately in my usual space for ranting against outsiders. Oh! Disillusionment! I forgot I was disillusioned in addition to the disappointment, shock, and mild disgust I feel.
You would think my good, if somewhat comical, name would be enough after all these years of employing you ilk of questionable backgrounds. I stood by you when you needed me most. Everyone called many of you unhirable, and I proved them wrong. Though, true, they ultimately had the last laugh. When editors and website employers were treating you like something they scraped off their shoe, and not in a good way, I took you in and allowed you to spread your wings and soar. Except for Omar Bricks, who took the metaphor quite literally with that batsuit. But you know what I mean.
It's true, when we negotiated the contract to prevent you striking back in July, I made quite a few promises. It's also true I cannot keep all those promises now—for good reason. It's a matter of public record since I accidentally published a private diary page my brother Gay is in a legal fight to take over the commune. Fighting these allegations has cost a lot of money, money I don't have or don't want to personally spend. I have had to dip into the commune secret...
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I find myself shocked and disappointed with all of the commune staff. No—more disappointed than shocked, with a hint of disgust. So much so I can't even address them, you, in person. I'm hoping to express myself and my disillusionment adequately in my usual space for ranting against outsiders. Oh! Disillusionment! I forgot I was disillusioned in addition to the disappointment, shock, and mild disgust I feel.
You would think my good, if somewhat comical, name would be enough after all these years of employing you ilk of questionable backgrounds. I stood by you when you needed me most. Everyone called many of you unhirable, and I proved them wrong. Though, true, they ultimately had the last laugh. When editors and website employers were treating you like something they scraped off their shoe, and not in a good way, I took you in and allowed you to spread your wings and soar. Except for Omar Bricks, who took the metaphor quite literally with that batsuit. But you know what I mean.
It's true, when we negotiated the contract to prevent you striking back in July, I made quite a few promises. It's also true I cannot keep all those promises now—for good reason. It's a matter of public record since I accidentally published a private diary page my brother Gay is in a legal fight to take over the commune. Fighting these allegations has cost a lot of money, money I don't have or don't want to personally spend. I have had to dip into the commune secret fund to prevent this hostile (and smelly, to boot) takeover. Therefore, obviously, I lack the funding I had previously counted on when negotiating contracts.
To see myself abandoned like this! It leaves me… well, see the first paragraph. Again threatening a walkout just because I have failed to follow through with a few of those promises. I thought we were a family. Apparently we are, like my deceitful no-good brother is family. But I thought we were a better family.
It's true, I can't afford those fancy ergonomic chairs for the office as I pledged to buy in December 2001 and again promised to deliver this year. If you ask me, your posture is good enough. Ergonomic chairs at this point would be tampering with God's plan to form your backs to his will—or Buddha. If you believe in Buddha. I can't make good on the chairs right now, or the staple removers to finally get those mis-stapled papers apart, but you know me. I'm Red Bagel! Sooner or later I'll make that promise again, and I'll keep it. I promise.
We are a low-traffic website with honorable intentions and lofty goals, but not much more. This was never a get-rich-quick scheme, and I never promised you folks a rose garden. Or actually I may have; if I promised a rose garden, I'll get you a rose garden, but I can't do it before this legal nonsense is settled. Until then, I can bring in a fresh bouquet of daisies daily until we get the rose garden up and running. This I promise to you. And it's not a lame never-kept promise like staple removers and the ergonomic chairs.
What about the promises I did keep? Did you ever think about that? Ramrod Hurley has yet to be put in charge of anyone else again, and has yet to find where we stashed his desk. You all got the piggyback rides. What do you want—blood? I can give you blood by the barrelful, if I thought it would help. It will just take me a few days to get in touch with my blood guys.
I'm full of self-pity over all this feuding. Self-pity for you. You have allowed personal greed and horrible spinal curvature to come between this family. Gay Bagel? Fuck Gay Bagel. He's no Bagel in my book. You guys are the real Bagels, as far as I'm concerned.
If you call the planned walkout off, I'll even put that in writing. Legal name changes for everyone! º Last Column: Save the Super-Acceleratorº more columns
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|  November 24, 2003
You Got Ice in My Greenland! You Got Green in My Iceland!Anyone who's ever showed up naked on the shores of Greenland expecting a lush tropical paradise, only to have his dong bit off by a penguin, is liable to be curious as to how the island got its misleading name. Likewise for any cold-loving Eskimo freak living in Iceland and wondering why his balls are sweating all the time and why everybody makes fun of his bulbous whale-fur parka while they're all kicking it in Hawaiian shirts and jams. The mystery of why Iceland is green and Greenland is icier than Catherine Zeta-Jones' chest cavity is something that has vexed tourists, indiscriminate immigrants and the uninformed for centuries.
The reasons behind this cartographical bait-and-switch date back to ancient times. In 330 B.C., the ancient explorer Pytheas sailed north from France to try and find some place to dump a dead horse that nobody wanted to take off his hands. Back in those days you couldn't just dump a dead horse by the side of the freeway like you can now, there were laws and steep horse-carcass-disposal fees. Pytheas's horse died of shock after walking on the explorer having sex with his wife's hat rack, and so even beyond the expense of paying somebody to dump the corpse off a high cliff, Pytheas was not looking forward to explaining to someone why the horse died with such a surprised look on his face.
So the explorer set out in his ship, with the horse's body in tow, beginning to smell even more ripe than a horse does when alive. Six days...
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Anyone who's ever showed up naked on the shores of Greenland expecting a lush tropical paradise, only to have his dong bit off by a penguin, is liable to be curious as to how the island got its misleading name. Likewise for any cold-loving Eskimo freak living in Iceland and wondering why his balls are sweating all the time and why everybody makes fun of his bulbous whale-fur parka while they're all kicking it in Hawaiian shirts and jams. The mystery of why Iceland is green and Greenland is icier than Catherine Zeta-Jones' chest cavity is something that has vexed tourists, indiscriminate immigrants and the uninformed for centuries.
The reasons behind this cartographical bait-and-switch date back to ancient times. In 330 B.C., the ancient explorer Pytheas sailed north from France to try and find some place to dump a dead horse that nobody wanted to take off his hands. Back in those days you couldn't just dump a dead horse by the side of the freeway like you can now, there were laws and steep horse-carcass-disposal fees. Pytheas's horse died of shock after walking on the explorer having sex with his wife's hat rack, and so even beyond the expense of paying somebody to dump the corpse off a high cliff, Pytheas was not looking forward to explaining to someone why the horse died with such a surprised look on his face.
So the explorer set out in his ship, with the horse's body in tow, beginning to smell even more ripe than a horse does when alive. Six days north of Britain, and a day south of the edge of the world where you could peek around to the other side and see the word search puzzle and maze game on the back, Pytheas found a beautiful uncharted island. After taking a quick look around to make sure he didn't see anybody he knew, Pytheas dumped the horse and planted his own personal "Found it!" flag, as a warning to any other explorers inclined to claim the island for their own, and their horses.
Iceland was populated mainly by embarrassing corpses and explorers' flags until the 9th century, when it was settled by Norwegians who brought with them a number of Celts in their luggage. Around this time the island came to be known as Tholböp, an Icelandic word meaning "Land of Easy Women." But the natives there eventually changed the name to "Iceland," so Vikings in the area would look at their maps and say "Fuck that, sounds cold!" and instead carry on their raping and pillaging in Greenland, where they would freeze to death because Greenland is nothing but a big hunk of ice floating out in the ocean. Nobody said the Icelanders didn't have a good sense of humor. This has been evidenced in the high percentage of Icelandic men named Snorri and in the nation's major exports: pet rocks and really hot women who look like Björk.
The half-dozen natives of Greenland didn't appreciate having their island's name changed without being consulted first, but the resulting bumper crop of dead Vikings washing up on their shores soon assuaged all of their concerns. This development served to found Greenland's economy, which was soon booming with the import of dead frozen Vikings and the export of Greenlanders who thought it might be nicer to live somewhere else. Those who remained lived the good life, as much as any life lived in constant oppressive cold on top of a giant hunk of ice can be called good, and they were content to sing songs about snow while huddled inside their igloos made of piles of dead frozen Vikings.
Greenland was originally known as Igapaquk, an Inuit word meaning "Eeh, it's okay." The first colony on the island was founded in 500 B.C. by a lost band of Inuit sailors from Canada who were very pessimistic about their chances of finding something better if they sailed on further. Legend has it that these early inexperienced pilgrims only stayed on Greenland because of a linguistic snafu which caused them to confuse the two meanings of the word "settle," one being to build a colony in a new land and the other to accept something shitty even though you could probably do better.
So now that the globe's great lie has been exposed we can move on to more pressing questions, such as what do they call really nice dishes in China? Stay tuned. º Last Column: Why is English So Retarded?º more columns
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Quote of the Day“The good die first. Then, the not-so good. Then the ugly. Strike that, the ugly should die first. Can I start again? If there are any good left, don't kill them yet, we've still got some uglies over here.”
-Billiam SwordswartFortune 500 CookieThe next time you give a dog as a gift, why don't you try poking some holes in the cellophane, ay handyman? Here's something to chew on: gum. Remember: you can't hurry love, but you can get your ass in motion when you're blocking the express lane, chunky. This week's lucky ducks: Donald, Daffy, Dontrelle, Fukka.
Try again later.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | Shit for Brains: The United Negro College Fund's Worst Fundraiser Ever | | 2. | Classic Rock, or Beethoven's 10th Symphony, "Stairway to Heaven" | | 3. | Flattering "Big Dick" Bosco | | 4. | We Can Win a War on Terrorism and Other Favorite Folk Tales | | 5. | Butter or Margarine: America's Favorite Sweat Smell | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 5/1/1999 It's Oscar time, America! And you know what that means: It's time to assert our inborn artistic superiority over every other country on the globe! The Oscars are like the Olympics of Entertainment, where we dominate in every event. Just like the real Olympics! Except for the goofy made-up sports like hockey and skiing that they play up in Canada. I'm talking about the real sports here.
Anyway, welcome to my Oscars special! What a load of movies we've got this year, huh? You should thank your lucky stars I'm here to keep you straight on which films to root for. I'm going to give you the straight skinny on my picks for Oscar gold, as well as guiding you through the murky waters of all the nominees. Because, as "The English Patient" proved, sometimes they sneak in a real stinker...
It's Oscar time, America! And you know what that means: It's time to assert our inborn artistic superiority over every other country on the globe! The Oscars are like the Olympics of Entertainment, where we dominate in every event. Just like the real Olympics! Except for the goofy made-up sports like hockey and skiing that they play up in Canada. I'm talking about the real sports here.
Anyway, welcome to my Oscars special! What a load of movies we've got this year, huh? You should thank your lucky stars I'm here to keep you straight on which films to root for. I'm going to give you the straight skinny on my picks for Oscar gold, as well as guiding you through the murky waters of all the nominees. Because, as "The English Patient" proved, sometimes they sneak in a real stinker just to make sure we're paying attention. May the best film win!
Best Picture:
Elizabeth
Yeah, like I'd go to see a chick flick. And a FOREIGN chick flick at that. You can waste
your money if you want to, but I hear they're playing "Beloved" down at the dollar
theater.
Life is Beautiful
Product placement is getting truly out of hand in today's entertainment features. Now
they're even sneaking it into movie titles, and I say the buck should stop here! I
don't give a damn if Mikey likes it! Keep him out of my Multiplex!
Saving Pirate Ryan
Hands-down the best pirate film since Muppet Treasure Island. The touching, emotional story of a captain's voyage to rescue Pirate Ryan from the Island of the Cyclops Women. Stephen Seagal's directorial debut shines as a true gem of American cinema. Unfortunately, the Academy has not been kind to pirate movies in the past (see Muppet Treasure Island, above) so I don't honestly see this picture bringing home the naked guy.
Shakespeare in Love
Although not the first porno to be nominated for an Oscar (see Titanic, Raging Bull), I have to admit this one might have a shot. Starring Bill Paxton as the beard himself, and Courtney Love as herself, in a movie written by Courtney Love. I'd at least give her the worthless "best screenplay" trophy just for having the balls to write herself into history this way. The MTV generation has a lot of pull with Academy Voters (see previous Best Picture winner, "Empire of the Sun", the Rage Against the Machine tour video) so Love's film may go home with the "Best Kiss" Oscar as well.
The Thin Red Line
Absolutely my pick for the Best Picture of the year. All those trim Russian soldiers marching about, how can you beat it? Definitely the best "Capitalist Pigs Must Die" film of the year.
Best Director:
Terrence Trent D'Arby, The Thin Red Line
Who'd of thought such a pantywaist could direct such a great, macho film? Except for the spurious inclusion of his late-80's hit "Wishing Well" during a Red Army marching sequence, D'Arby's direction is flawless, and I'm personally impressed. I'd have expected him to be a cashier at D'Arby's by now. I'd place him as the front runner for the Oscar if it weren't for the fact that I think all of the other nominated directors could kick his ass to Cleveland and back.
John Madden, Shakespeare in Love
Only a real meathead roughneck like Madden could keep Courtney Love in line during the filming of this difficult movie. He's been quoted as saying that his years in the NFL were only meager preparation for dealing with his star.
Benito Mussolini, Life is Beautiful
Living proof that you can bounce back from a rocky past, and that Hollywood forgives just about anybody. Except for the Hollywood YMCA, you pee in their pool once and you're out, buddy.
Stephen Seagal, Saving Pirate Ryan
Definitely the director to beat, especially because he can kick almost anyone's ass. This category raises the interesting question of who's the bigger badass: Seagal or Mussolini?
Peter Weller, The Truman Show
Who better than Mr Robocop himself to direct Truman Capote's masterpiece? The only real tragedy of the Oscars this year is to think that The Truman Show didn't get nominated for Best Picture. But I'm sure Peter Weller will get his revenge. I wonder if he's got a 16mm camera mounted on his machine-gun arm, or how that works? He's probably the only nominated director who can develop his own film, and who is bulletproof. Kick ass.
Best Actor:
Tom Hanks, Saving Pirate Ryan
In a harrowing, grizzled performance as Capt. Turner, Hanks brings us closer to the heart of a drunk old pirate who talks to his stump than many of us would have ever cared to be. Definitely Hanks' best performance since his turn as the Philadelphia Fanatic in Major League 2.
Ian McKellen, Gods and Monsters
Never satisfied with resting on his laurels from his early success as the tall kid in Our Gang who never said anything, McKellen is back in this remake of "Clash of the Titans". Now set in suburban Long Island, the film features McKellen in a stirring performance, playing an aging Barbarian who falls in love with Jason Priestly. Sure to get the Barbarian vote from the Academy.
Benito Mussolini, Life is Beautiful
Mussolini reveals himself to be a deft physical comedian, leaving audiences howling in disbelief that the WWII leader of fascist Italy can fall down a flight of stairs and land on his feet.
Nick Nolte, Afflecktion
Although the film was nothing but a shameless rip-off of Multiplicity, Nolte burns up the screen as the mad scientist who brings the hundreds of Ben Affleck clones into being. Nolte aptly displays the horror inherent in finding oneself surrounded by hundreds of Afflecks, all bobbing their heads and gelling their foofy hair in unison.
Edward Norton, American History X
Who the hell is Edward Norton?
Best Actress/Supporting Actress:
The Academy's gag category this year. You don't believe me? Go ahead, name three women who are nominated. I'm waiting. Most of the names listed as best actress and best supporting actress nominees this year are actually the names of Academy members' children and pets. You heard it here first.
Best Supporting Actor:
James Coburn, Afflecktion
Playing Quasimodo to Nolte's Dr Frankenstein, Coburn is touching as a hunched old fart who babbles on about WWII.
Robert Duvall, A Cybil Action
Executive producer Cybil Shepherd displays both her megalomania and her lack of creativity in the naming of this film, a rote action flick redeemed only by a stunning performance by Robert Duvall as an ex-preacher who uses his Louisville Slugger to collect on drug debts.
Ted Harris, The Truman Show
I have to admit, after Cheers ended I thought Ted's career was a goner. But he really pulls it out of the crapper as Kansas farmer William Clutter during the "In Cold Blood (Use Tide!)" segment of Capote's magnificent film. Harris was quite believable in the role, especially when his toupee didn't come off during the strangulation scene.
Geoffrey Rush, Shakespeare in Love
Who?
Billy Bob Thornton, A Cybil Plan
Cybil Shepherd strikes again with this unfortunately titled film in the crime thriller genre. Thornton proves that he can play a retard for every occasion with this role as an autistic Midwestern auto sales manager who accidentally kills a hooker and has his idiot friends try to help hide the body. Easily Thornton's best performance since Good Morning Vietnam.
And that's a wrap! Best of luck in stalking your favorite celebs at the Awards Show this year! Or if you won't be making it to the ceremony, may your favorites take home the gold! Unless your favorites were one of the weak foreign films that inevitably gets nominated, in that case tough luck. Here's a quarter, call somebody who cares. And be sure to tune in next month for more of the new reviews that you've come to depend on!   |
