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2/19/26   
Like a friend you don't deserve
Loves That Woman '; $dunkin='2005/0905/'; $dunkintitle='The New Anne Frank Diary'; $edit='2003/1222/'; $fanmail='2005/0516/'; $fanmailtitle='Volume 63'; $finger='2005/0905/'; $fingertitle='I’m Fresh Out of Haitian Cigarettes'; $fortune='2002/020121/'; $goocher='2005/0711/'; $goochertitle='Gwar of the Worlds'; $hanes='2005/0704/'; $hanestitle='Pink is Not for Men'; $hartwig='2005/0606/'; $hartwigtitle='Parade'; $hooper='2005/0912/'; $hoopertitle='Seventh Heaven'; $hurley='2005/0404/'; $hurleytitle='Time of Healing'; $kroeger='2005/0822/'; $kroegertitle='Charity Case'; $loser='2005/0822/'; $losertitle='Lost Leavings'; $ned='2003/0818/'; $nedtitle='Cyantology'; $pickle='2002/020513/'; $pickletitle='State of the Art'; $poet='2005/0905/'; $police='2005/0912/'; $polio='2005/0905/'; $poliotitle='Omarelief'; $rent='2005/0912/'; $renttitle='Way Inside Jokes'; $reynolds='2005/0425/'; $reynoldstitle='A Series of Unfortunate Evans'; $hartwig='2004/1206/'; $hartwigtitle='O Captain!'; $sickhead='2004/0419/'; $sickheadtitle='The Legendary Spot of Coco Hobari McSteve'; $ted='2005/0530/'; $tedtitle='The New War on Poverty'; $vanslyke='2005/0606/'; $vanslyketitle='Health Food is Full of Shit'; $zender='2005/0425/'; $zendertitle='The Sixth commune Enthusiasts Club Meeting'; ?>
homecommune Staff Biographiescommune news20,000 Seats Beneath the League with Stan AbernathieOr So You Thought with Red BagelBook RevoltBoris is Gay with Boris UtzovMy Friend Polio with Omar BricksMy Dearest Deidrebane with Carlisle P. ChesterfeldChild Star with Clarissa ColemanThe Best of Joel DickmanNo Shit? with Griswald DreckOne Sane Man with Raoul DunkinEditorial CartoonsFanmail from Some Flounders: Letters to the EditorGiving You the Finger with Rok FingerThe Hanes Identity with Mickey HanesSampson L. Hartwig RemembersShort ‘N’ Sweet with Stan HooperPoop of the Century with Ramrod HurleyAmerican Jesus with Mitch KroegerYou Can’t Win with Alamo CruiseFortune 500 Cookies with Mazie the ChickenManifestos of FunMe Chinese with Ned NedmillerSittin’ Around the Pickle Barrel with Shorty and JeterPoetry CoronerEntertainment Police: Movie and Television ReviewsThis Space for Rent: Guest ColumnistsGlass Ceiling Fan with Thelma ReynoldsClarise Sickhead’s Bedtime StoriesGoddammit! with Ted TedReflections of a Goocher with Stu UmbrageThe World Vs. Homer Vanslykecommune Club with Emil Zender

Sales of Crappy Christmas Gifts Reach Record High

December 23, 2002
U.S.A.
Snapper McGee
Actually, the Grandpa shirt is starting to look pretty good in comparison.
A
collective Charlie Brown-style "Auuuuugh!" sounded around the world upon the release of the newest economy figures Friday. In addition to the disappointing early returns for the Christmas season, and spending figures falling below already-low projections, initial reports suggest that one industry not suffering this year is lousy Christmas gifts.

Lousy Christmas gifts, a sub-industry all its own, is notorious for maintaining steady sales from year to year, apparently never suffering from the effects of recession. However, 2003 marks the first year, if early indicators are correct, that crappy Christmas gifts will actually be on the uprise.

"The old adage about the recession," said some hobo who claimed to have a background in economics as we fed him a can of cre...Read more...


Late Playboy photographer Helmut Newton goes on to marginally better place

Bush Asks Caddy What Day September 11th is on this Year

Moon of Saturn not orange, probe just taking photos without flash

Laser pointers shined at plane annoy passengers watching Meet the Fockers



May 27, 2002

Click for Biography

Field Goal

"There was a roar of the crowd, the chilly wind blowing, the rattling of the weak bleachers we all sat on. It was the biggest game of the year, and our high school was involved. It was Oscar Wilde High School vs. the state champs, Karl Marx H.S. for the title of greatest football team of all time. Though I could be mistaken on the details, my mind grows weary over the years.

I was not a football player myself, but a cherished member of the Oscar Wilde Yahtzee Team. My school pride knew no bounds, including legal ones. I shouted and cheered for the home team through the match, touting our strong defense and lack of homosexuals on the team. I made numerous allusions to the murder of loved ones of opposing team members, but nothing could shake them. They had ice in their veins, or at least freon, if they had drunk from the sports drink I offered the players before the game.

Our boys were not daunted, though. Everyone wanted a piece of the other team, even the guys on the bench and the guys who had been kicked off the team for befriending non-caucasions. So many wanted a piece of the other team that the other team would have to bring in many more players just to have enough pieces to go around, even cut up into many small pieces.

The game was tough, and even playing our best we could only come within mere points of the opposing team in the last few minutes. Then, as contrivance would have it, my brother Goose was brought in off the bench to...Read more...


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May 30, 2005

Click for Biography

The Sad Fate of the World's Greatest Invention

Everyone loves seeing movies in the theater, because the screen is so freakin' huge. Plus when you throw shit at the screen at home, usually you're the one who has to clean it up later, unless you're smart enough to throw something the dog's not too proud to eat off the floor, like steak. But regardless, Omar Bricks has always had one major problem with seeing movies in the theater, and it's not the rule about discharging firearms during the exciting parts or the mandatory frisking for fireworks. No, the real pain in my remarkably-tolerant ass is the way they keep the movie playing like fascists even when you've really got to piss but don't want to miss the best part of the movie, which filmmakers strategically place right at the optimal time for a piss break to ensure repeat business.

Normally I just end up pissing in a trash can in the back of the theater, where I can still see the screen, but that's not a perfect solution either. Sometimes the trash is really full and you get splashback like from a cheap Korean urinal, and other times some 90-year old woman chooses that moment to pop into the theater to check and see if this movie has that delightful Kevin Costner in it, only to grab a stroke-inducing eyeful of your man-monster. So this was clearly a national problem worthy of serious scientific inquiry.

That put me at a slight disadvantage, since the only thing I know about science is that you can't freeze gasoline. But God never slams a door...Read more...


º Last Column: Guanica
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Quote of the Day
“Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes! Or, if they're wearing sunglasses, just aim for the balls. Cocky shits.”

-General Dicky Prescott
Fortune 500 Cookie
That noise outside your bushes? It's just me. Something important tomorrow, but I can't remember if it's "lottery" or "leprosy"… Don't forget to check under refrigerator; it's shrimp, that's what you're smelling. Lucky numbers 15 and Qwiddley-Two.


Try again later.
Worst-Selling Meat Alternatives
1.M-Eat Brand Fungal Rot Cakes
2.FEET!®
3.Uncle Macho's Vegan Roadkill
4.Henson's Best Muppet Meat Steaks
5.Wiccan Nuggets
Last IssueLast Issue’s Lead News Story

North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY Dick Charleston
12/23/2002
A Christmas Card
Everywhere in London during that cold December morn of Christmas Eve, every man and woman, large and small and even the exceptionally large, were filled with Christmas cheer. Everyone, that is, except for one man—Phineas Miser, the un-Christmasiest son of a bitch in all of London.

Once Miser had been full of Christmas cheer, and rum, but that had been a long time ago; the pursuit of gold and capitalist success had tainted him, along with having a terribly on-the-nose name that defined his destiny. No, Miser no longer had any Christmas cheer, unless you count the Christmas cheer in the body of his wage slaves, which technically he owned through wicked and brilliant contract negotiations.

Miser was the proprietor of the most despicable business in all London—a...Read more...

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