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Iraq Being Rebuilt By Cast of Three’s CompanyMay 26, 2003 |
Baghdad, Iraq Pentagon Press Kit Come and knock on our door, people of Iraq: DeWitt, Somers and Ritter n a move that seems designed to stun the administration’s critics into silence, President Bush announced yesterday that in recent weeks the task of rebuilding Iraq has been turned over to the cast of the popular late-70’s ABC sitcom Three’s Company. This unprecedented move drew a total blank from the nation’s political commentators, many of whom were seen checking the calendar to see if it was April 1st. The announcement also served to quell the rising tide of allegations that Bush invaded Iraq without the slightest idea of how to build the country into a democracy or even a legitimate desire to do so, as many of the allegators (Ed. note: a larger cousin of the crocodile) were seen buying tickets for the midnight train to Canada.
“Mr. Ritter, Ms. Some...
n a move that seems designed to stun the administration’s critics into silence, President Bush announced yesterday that in recent weeks the task of rebuilding Iraq has been turned over to the cast of the popular late-70’s ABC sitcom Three’s Company. This unprecedented move drew a total blank from the nation’s political commentators, many of whom were seen checking the calendar to see if it was April 1st. The announcement also served to quell the rising tide of allegations that Bush invaded Iraq without the slightest idea of how to build the country into a democracy or even a legitimate desire to do so, as many of the allegators (Ed. note: a larger cousin of the crocodile) were seen buying tickets for the midnight train to Canada. “Mr. Ritter, Ms. Somers and Ms. DeWitt were carefully hand-picked by the administration for their nation-building skills and their position as some of our country’s most expendable celebrities,” explained outgoing White House press secretary Ari Fleischer. “They have the skills, and more importantly, they had the time. Mr. Knotts was not chosen for this assignment, but hid in a sack of rice on the plane and has thus far refused to be sent back.” “We’re a nation of ass-kickers, not babysitters,” explained the president during yesterday’s press conference. “I have every confidence that Jack and Mr. Furley have this situation well under control, and are delighting the Iraqi people with hilarious sexual double-enchiladas as we speak.” When asked if by “enchiladas,” he meant “entendres,” President Bush explained that thanks, but he wasn’t in the mood for Mexican. “Ms. Somers has already quelled several attempted uprisings by the Shiites and Kurds, and her iron abs and hellcat personality have proved to be a more-than-adequate replacement for Saddam’s iron fist in keeping Iraq under control,” noted Fleischer. “Let’s just say Saddam wasn’t the only one who knew how to bury his problems out in the desert. In addition, thanks to Suzanne’s program of mandatory daily abdominal exercises, the people of Iraq have never looked Tripper. I mean trimmer!” The press secretary’s clever Three’s Company-themed pun elicited guffaws among the press corps and several non-English-speaking Iraqi bystanders who hate to feel left out on a joke. “It’s really too bad Norman Fell died back in 1998, because Mr. Roper really would have been the perfect post-Saddam leader for Iraq. I’m sure even the Iraqis would have loved him. That guy was the cat’s ass,” skylarked diehard Three’s Company fan and collectable tumbler collector Sidney Torres. The interim government was tested last week when a local villager, whose daughter had been shot in the neck with a harpoon gun during the lawlessness that followed the fall of Baghdad, came to Ritter and DeWitt for help. “John, this is just like the episode where you broke your tailbone teaching Chrissy the hula but you couldn’t ask Mr. Furley for a ride to the hospital because he’d think you got hurt being gay!” offered DeWitt with her trademark spunk. “Are you saying we wrap a scarf around the harpoon and tell people it’s a new fashion craze?” questioned Ritter. DeWitt responded with an affirmative wink and gun-cocking gesture that had the audience of Iraqi bystanders rolling with laughter, all except for the farmer and his harpooned daughter. Ms. Somers refused to be interviewed for this story, as she had retired to a secret underground bunker with her inner circle of advisors to discuss the “rebuilding” of neighboring Iran. At the commune news, three’s company but four’s a crowd in the unisex bathroom. Mordecai “Three Finger” Brown is the commune’s favorite long-dead reporter and Lifestyle Editor, a title in which he has yet to discover the irony.
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Brit Sailor Apology Video Obviously Just Photo with Superimposed Talking Lips “.XXX” Domain Reserved for Adult Content Sites, Online Moonshiners “Female Sex Patch” Nothing But Dermal Tequila Shooters Constipation Drug Pulled; Results Not Shitty Enough |
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 November 11, 2002
Giving Celebrity Shoplifters a Bad NameMonday, November 11, 2002 It's the way the stupid world works that the many are always being made to pay for the fuck-ups of the few. Like back when that dildo Jesus ate the apple and created Original Sin, that Angelina Jolie movie where she looks all fat. Thanks, Jesus. Then some dumb kid freaks out and tries to climb up inside a running lawnmower, and all of a sudden only the Indians get to eat peyote anymore. Like they never freak out and set the teepee on fire sometimes. Finally, to put the icing on the ice cream, some primadonna of a lab rabbit gets an eye blister so all of the rest of us miss out on a cute new mascara.
Sometimes this rule works in our favor, like when you get a college scholarship because your great step-grandma once slept with some Navajo guy, but usually it doesn't.
Case in point. Winona Ryder, of Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon fame, gets the bright idea to prop up her saggy-titted acting career by getting caught half-assedly shoplifting some cheap junk out in Beverly Hills. She thinks she's all clever, hiding it in her sacks from Saks, then all of a sudden all of us innocent celebrity shoplifters are taking the heat. What a crock. I didn't spend three weeks painstakingly smuggling a complete set of Martha Stewart Living silverware out of a K-mart piece by piece in my mouth to be compared to that talentless hack. Talentless at shoplifting, anyway, she may be a great film actress for all I know. But I wouldn't know, because I...
º Last Column: My Sims Still Feel Leashed º more columns
Monday, November 11, 2002 It's the way the stupid world works that the many are always being made to pay for the fuck-ups of the few. Like back when that dildo Jesus ate the apple and created Original Sin, that Angelina Jolie movie where she looks all fat. Thanks, Jesus. Then some dumb kid freaks out and tries to climb up inside a running lawnmower, and all of a sudden only the Indians get to eat peyote anymore. Like they never freak out and set the teepee on fire sometimes. Finally, to put the icing on the ice cream, some primadonna of a lab rabbit gets an eye blister so all of the rest of us miss out on a cute new mascara. Sometimes this rule works in our favor, like when you get a college scholarship because your great step-grandma once slept with some Navajo guy, but usually it doesn't. Case in point. Winona Ryder, of Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon fame, gets the bright idea to prop up her saggy-titted acting career by getting caught half-assedly shoplifting some cheap junk out in Beverly Hills. She thinks she's all clever, hiding it in her sacks from Saks, then all of a sudden all of us innocent celebrity shoplifters are taking the heat. What a crock. I didn't spend three weeks painstakingly smuggling a complete set of Martha Stewart Living silverware out of a K-mart piece by piece in my mouth to be compared to that talentless hack. Talentless at shoplifting, anyway, she may be a great film actress for all I know. But I wouldn't know, because I don't watch foreign films. Too much talking. By the way, her "I was rehearsing for a role" excuse is cute, but you can refer to the court transcripts of the trial for my underage hit-and-run accident back in '88 if you want to see how long it takes a jury to get tired of that line. It's something like fifteen minutes, tops. I was ten; I don't know what her excuse is. This all reminds me of back when celebrity drug use got a bad name just because Robert Downey Jr. proved to be a lightweight who couldn't hold his heroin. Like that surprised anyone. Hello? Did anyone see Less Than Zero? That movie was supposed to be about a baseball player, only they had to re-write it on the fly since Downey constantly looked like he'd just woke up dead. While we're on the subject, I thought I'd throw in some free shoplifting tips in case you don't fancy ending up on CourtTV looking like the lost member of the Addams Family. Just don't cheap out on me and say I never did anything for you when I call up and need a place to crash for a few months, okay? First off, it's probably best to avoid shoplifting really big stuff, like beach balls and six-foot stuffed animals, until you get good at it. Marcie McMillan, my co-star from the failed pilot for that underrated crime-fighting girls show Training Bras, was the master. She once shoplifted an entire aquarium, including fake rocks and a sump pump, out of a pet store while she was only wearing a bikini. I still don't know where she hid that thing. Come to think of it, I don't know what she wanted with an aquarium in the first place, but she was probably just trying to go down in Hollywood lore for something other than being in that Rob Lowe video. But you also don't want to try and shoplift anything too small, either. Jewelry is tempting, but then there's a danger that you'll forget what you took and only find it when you clean out your purse months later while looking for a lighter. Also from my experience, I'd say that live fish are a poor choice as well. They'll suffocate if there's not enough air in your purse, so you need to either cut some holes ahead of time or get a wicker purse, or come to think of it, just don't try to lift fish. You'll never get that smell out, trust me. Marcie had the right idea with the aquarium, but overall I'd say the pet store is more trouble than it's worth for a celebrity shoplifter. The easiest things to steal are purses and hats, and really convincing Halloween masks. You just put them on and act like you wore them into the store. If they ask why your hat still has the tag on it, you say that you were going to return it once it went out of style, and look at them like they're stupid. If they don't understand the look, give them a helping hand by referring to them as "Hey, Stupid." Of course, now that Tinseltown skank Ryder has made it a lot harder for the rest of us, we'll probably have to come up with some new tricks. The next time I go into the May Co. with a giant empty duffel bag, I guarantee you I'll be getting some dirty looks. And this time, it won't be because they thought that was me freak dancing in the new Christina Aguilera video. Thanks a lot, bitch. º Last Column: My Sims Still Feel Leashedº more columns
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|  September 29, 2003
Get Me on the Next Plane to Nigeria!I'm sure you've all heard the latest news and controversy coming out of Nigeria, about how that lady was gonna get stoned because she did some dude before they got married. All I can say is if lighting up a jay is these people's idea of punishment, then get me on the next plane to Nigeria!
I'm serious, this sounds like my kind of country. What do they do if you rob a bank, give you a blowjob? I can't believe nobody told me about this place before, all those lucky Nigerian pricks have been over there living the good life and keeping it all for themselves. And for how long? As soon as I get over there, I'm gonna give those guys some serious shit while I'm looking for a married chick to score with. They could have at least sent me a postcard or something, spread the wealth and all, instead of leaving me kicking around Puritanical America like some kind of yutz.
It's about time somebody got it right, you'd think with all the dozens of countries out there eventually somebody would've come up with a set of laws that didn't suck. It makes you wonder what else they've figured out over there, like maybe instead of parking tickets they give back massages. I could live with that. Or if they catch you stealing a VCR they give you like a million VCRs until you're sick of them, like my dad did the time he caught me stealing cookies when I was five. To this day I still can't see a cookie without retching, but at the time I thought that was a pretty sweet...
º Last Column: You Belittle Us All º more columns
I'm sure you've all heard the latest news and controversy coming out of Nigeria, about how that lady was gonna get stoned because she did some dude before they got married. All I can say is if lighting up a jay is these people's idea of punishment, then get me on the next plane to Nigeria!
I'm serious, this sounds like my kind of country. What do they do if you rob a bank, give you a blowjob? I can't believe nobody told me about this place before, all those lucky Nigerian pricks have been over there living the good life and keeping it all for themselves. And for how long? As soon as I get over there, I'm gonna give those guys some serious shit while I'm looking for a married chick to score with. They could have at least sent me a postcard or something, spread the wealth and all, instead of leaving me kicking around Puritanical America like some kind of yutz.
It's about time somebody got it right, you'd think with all the dozens of countries out there eventually somebody would've come up with a set of laws that didn't suck. It makes you wonder what else they've figured out over there, like maybe instead of parking tickets they give back massages. I could live with that. Or if they catch you stealing a VCR they give you like a million VCRs until you're sick of them, like my dad did the time he caught me stealing cookies when I was five. To this day I still can't see a cookie without retching, but at the time I thought that was a pretty sweet punishment.
They're way into Islam over there, which from what I hear involves listening to a lot of Bob Marley and taking it easy. Right on. Actually, I've been doing a little reading up on Islam lately, and let me tell you it's pretty sweet. Any religion that recognizes Muhammad Ali as the supreme badass is all right in my book. It definitely puts a quick end to all those "my savior could beat up your savior" arguments, smart move on Islam's part.
The nice thing about living in a country that has religious law is that they've got way more loopholes that a dude in the know can exploit. Like if they make you get stoned for having sex with a married chick, then it only stands to reason that if they catch you smoking a doob they'll make you pick out some married hottie for a night of adulterous Muslim passion. Score! That may sound strange to our Christian ears, but that's the way it works over there, it's in their Bible thing. And all that shit goes both ways, like Elton John.
You know it's a different kind of country when their biggest national industry is an Internet chain-letter scam. Right on. Like they're gonna be able to say shit about the ten-foot-high pot plants growing in my backyard when their own government makes its dough scamming Ohio housewives out of their bingo money. Talk about dudes living in some serious glass houses. I don't know if that "stone-throwing" proverb is in their Bible too or not, but I'm sure they've at least got some kind of "pot calling the kettle black" saying, since I hear there's a lot of black guys living over there.
The black factor alone might worry some Americans, but not yours truly. It's not like I'm planning on living on the shady side of Nigeria, whichever side that is. I'm sure it's a lot like here, and once I get my bearings and figure out where the white people live I'll be golden. I might still have to cruise through "Little Chicago" or whatever they call the black part of Nigeria if there's a sale on Reeboks or something, but as long as I keep my windows rolled up it should be no problem.
Nigeria, here I come! º Last Column: You Belittle Us Allº more columns
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Milestones1854: Alfred, Lord TennysonĂs ìCharge of the Light BrigadeĂ® is published, giving Rok Finger a polished piece of poetry to mangle when heĂs drunk.Now HiringTreasury Secretary. Government position, includes benefits, pension, all federal holidays off. Responsibilities include advising on economic policies, having economic policies refused, and taking blame for failed economic policies. Ability to explain massive tax cuts in time of high military spending and unemployment a plus.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | How Do You Keep a Moron in Suspense? | | 2. | Uncle Macho's Naked Lunch | | 3. | Grenades Are from Granada and other Historical Nuggets | | 4. | Raoul Dunkin: Pussyfoot | | 5. | The Best of Wrinkly Raisin Breasts | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Orson Welch 3/14/2005 I've been hearing a lot of this controversy on the film Diary of a Mad Black Woman. There are many who claim critics have unfairly slammed the movie, that they haven't looked below the surface to find the real value of the film, and instead have missed the enjoyment of it since it comes from a black perspective unfamiliar to many critics. To them, I can only respond that I haven't seen the film yet myself, but have heard it was based on a one-man stage play. Immediately the words "self-indulgent" and "crashing down on the shoulders of an egoistical star" come to mind. It's possible I'm being harsh and premature, but again I remind you—it's based on a one-man stage play. But enough of the what's new; let's check out what's old.
Now on DVD:

I've been hearing a lot of this controversy on the film Diary of a Mad Black Woman. There are many who claim critics have unfairly slammed the movie, that they haven't looked below the surface to find the real value of the film, and instead have missed the enjoyment of it since it comes from a black perspective unfamiliar to many critics. To them, I can only respond that I haven't seen the film yet myself, but have heard it was based on a one-man stage play. Immediately the words "self-indulgent" and "crashing down on the shoulders of an egoistical star" come to mind. It's possible I'm being harsh and premature, but again I remind you—it's based on a one-man stage play. But enough of the what's new; let's check out what's old.
Now on DVD:
The Incredibles
It's incredibly predictable. Actually, the most incredible thing about it was Craig T. Nelson made it back to the big screen, even in voice form. A run-of-the-mill family film about a family of super-heroes. See it without your family, and learn to truly hate children. At least the grating members of the audience with their loud crying, constant talking, and running loose in every direction got a sincere emotional response from me. It worked in reverse as well. You should have seen them cry when I unloaded my daring wit upon them.
What the Bleep Do We Know
It's possible my mother came up with the title of this film, it sounds like something she would say. If a film is going to come up with a daring title and translate it into cutesy code language for us, we can well imagine that a daring idea has been curbed, cut, and trimmed to fit into an easily-palatable sub-philosophical film that makes for two hours of the obvious. Consider it a Passion of the Christ for every New Age weirdo in your life. This film will change your life, if your life had centered around hoping to like this film beforehand. Otherwise, it's merely shelf-filler.
Finding Neverland
A film tailor-made for everyone who thought, "I would love to see a biopic about how a writer comes up with the idea for his masterpiece, and yet take nothing away from the experience." Possibly directed by a robot, although they gave it the cleverly human-sounding name Marc Forster. It doesn't do anything particularly wrong; it doesn't do particularly anything. Even Johnny Depp, who can make a memorable performance in detritus like Pirates of the Carribean, is just there in this film. Many critics will respect what it's about, and the fact it doesn't seem to fail in specific ways, but even the people who worked on it wouldn't pick it as their favorite film of 2004, it's simply too forgettable. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you've seen it already, and are merely getting it confused with some other movie. This is the one about the Peter Pan author, not the one about the blind piano-player. C'est la vie. At least they acknowledged there are people who write books, that's something
commendable.
That's a slew of the latest DVD reviews. Thanks for reading "Entertainment Police," or as I'm considering re-titling my entries, "Dirt From a Dissed White Boy."   |