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Are You Shot? an Iraqi Reality Hit September 1, 2003 |
Baghdad, Iraq Junior Bacon Contestants vie for prizes and medical attention on ABC’s newest reality show he most recent Nielsen ratings released Monday confirm the surprising success of ABC’s controversial new show, Are You Shot?, an unscripted reality program featuring former soap opera star Lorenzo Lamas and a panel of judges critiquing the injuries suffered by American GIs and civilians in post-war Iraq.
Critics and social commentators have savaged the program ever since it rose from the ashes of ABC’s ill-fated reality dud Are You Hot? The Search for America's Sexiest People, which was cancelled earlier this year due to lukewarm ratings and a lawsuit by radio shock jock Howard Stern. Despite claims that the new show (which features Lamas detailing puss-soaked head wounds and missing limbs with a laser pointer) is in appallingly bad taste and degrades the wh...
he most recent Nielsen ratings released Monday confirm the surprising success of ABC’s controversial new show, Are You Shot?, an unscripted reality program featuring former soap opera star Lorenzo Lamas and a panel of judges critiquing the injuries suffered by American GIs and civilians in post-war Iraq. Critics and social commentators have savaged the program ever since it rose from the ashes of ABC’s ill-fated reality dud Are You Hot? The Search for America's Sexiest People, which was cancelled earlier this year due to lukewarm ratings and a lawsuit by radio shock jock Howard Stern. Despite claims that the new show (which features Lamas detailing puss-soaked head wounds and missing limbs with a laser pointer) is in appallingly bad taste and degrades the whole of humanity, U.S. viewers can’t get enough. “I always want to keep up on what’s going on over there in Iraq, but it can be so tough,” explained avid viewer and bakery assistant Megan Herbert. “One minute we’re the bad guys, then the good guys, then the bad guys again, then a deli blows up. I like it better when there’s points and we can see who’s winning.” Producers set up the show by dividing Iraq into twelve different “Hell Zones,” geographical regions from which contestants would be drawn. Each episode of the show focuses on contestants from a different zone, with viewers voting over the Internet on which challenger had been most severely fucked-up as a result of the ongoing U.S. occupation. Early episodes of the show have scored Nielsen ratings as high as 26.3, besting such popular reality staples as Temptation Island and Oops, I Ate Your Dog. Such a surprising early success has ABC executives buzzing about possible record ratings for the planned season finale in the “Hell Zone” of the Sunni Triangle. Thus far, the Nielsen Media Research corporation has been unable to track accurate ratings for the show in Iraq itself, due to the small number of working televisions in the country which haven’t been either kicked in or bartered for food. On top of suggesting that the show devalues human suffering and takes too long to get to the good gory parts, critics have also slammed Are You Shot? for extending the career of celebrity waste-of-space Lorenzo Lamas, who until recently was making ends meet lending his talents to a celebrity prank-calling service. “Sure, some people may argue that the show is in poor taste,” admitted Lamas, while compulsively highlighting this reporter’s papercut with his laser pointer. “But America has always thrived on raising poor taste to the level of an art form. Without our example, the rest of the world would have no way of knowing when the bottom of the barrel has been scraped.” “Hold on a second,” Lamas interrupted, glancing at his watch as he dialed a cell phone. “Hello, this is Lorenzo Lamas, from Falcon Crest. Do you have Prince Albert in a can? No, no, that’s Prince Harry. No, I don’t think he would actually fit in a can. Yes, he is quite adorable. Uh-huh, you’re right on that. Okay. Okay, thank you. Goodbye.” the commune news has launched its own in-office reality show, Are You Shit?, which amounts to little more than an ongoing staff roast aided by Boris Utzov’s confiscated laser pointer, but it passes the time. commune foreign correspondent Ivan Nacutchacokov didn’t actually need to travel to Iraq to cover this story, but we thought it’d be funnier to tell him that when he got back.
 | Iraq occupation troops to enjoy long period of job security
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Lawyers for Gitmo Detainees Lobby to Stop Calling Them “Gitmo” Detainees Fans Mourn First 30 Years of Puckett’s Life Serial Killer’s Neighbor: “He just wouldn’t shut up about serial killing.” R.C. Car Enthusiasts Angered by Latest Mars Mission Snub |
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 July 7, 2003
Doctor Kiwani"I won't join any club that would penetrate me with a member."
I've never been much of a joiner, on account I've never been let into a group. But I haven't given up on the idea of being part of an organization of some kind, especially the kind that makes me money or friends.
When I was a kid my mom tried to sign me up for everything, from 4-H to the Cub Scouts, but I kept failing the entrance exams. I was in some other youth organization my dad got me into for about a week, but my hand kept cramping up trying to do the sign. I think they were extra hard on me because of it when it came time to run the gauntlet, I didn't even get past the first sixty guys.
In school I tried to get into all the clubs, but they all had special requirements. You had to be good at something or popular or something, it was all rigged. I did find a group of kids to hang out with and everything, but they said I couldn't get into their group without a doctor's note saying I had a learning disability. Which really sucked, 'cause my doctor said I did have a learning disability, but he wouldn't write me a note since he was pissed about me eating all his tongue depressors. I say don't stick anything in my mouth if you don't want me to eat it.
I got out of high school and thought all my chances to be in a club were over, then I heard about the Kiwanis Club. They're some sort of charity or something, who cares, really, if they all get together in a...
º Last Column: RC Dice º more columns
"I won't join any club that would penetrate me with a member."
I've never been much of a joiner, on account I've never been let into a group. But I haven't given up on the idea of being part of an organization of some kind, especially the kind that makes me money or friends.
When I was a kid my mom tried to sign me up for everything, from 4-H to the Cub Scouts, but I kept failing the entrance exams. I was in some other youth organization my dad got me into for about a week, but my hand kept cramping up trying to do the sign. I think they were extra hard on me because of it when it came time to run the gauntlet, I didn't even get past the first sixty guys.
In school I tried to get into all the clubs, but they all had special requirements. You had to be good at something or popular or something, it was all rigged. I did find a group of kids to hang out with and everything, but they said I couldn't get into their group without a doctor's note saying I had a learning disability. Which really sucked, 'cause my doctor said I did have a learning disability, but he wouldn't write me a note since he was pissed about me eating all his tongue depressors. I say don't stick anything in my mouth if you don't want me to eat it.
I got out of high school and thought all my chances to be in a club were over, then I heard about the Kiwanis Club. They're some sort of charity or something, who cares, really, if they all get together in a building. I don't care if they worshipped goats by sticking thumbs up their asses, as long as they were a club and I could join, showing that guidance counselor once and for all who was right.
The Kiwanis were not as cool as they sounded, though. I showed up in my Kiwanis suit, complete with a little pouch on the front, and I pulled leaves out and ate them and everything, trying to fit in. Not one person in that place was dressed like a Kiwani except me, and some people even asked me what I was supposed to be, like they'd never seen a Kiwani before. Even talking with an Australian accent didn't make them any smarter. You'd think these jackasses would know the animal they named their club after. Next time I'll show up dressed as a jackass, just to embarrass them.
It probably doesn't need saying I didn't make the Kiwanis Club, but I did make bail, so everything works out alright in the end. I've had it with trying to get into a club, I'll tell you that. I've always wanted to be a part of a group of people, the kind of joes I could make friends with and share a real sense of community and shit. But I suppose I'll have to do that by starting my own club, with me as president and founder and everything. And I won't let any of those assholes in. º Last Column: RC Diceº more columns
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|  March 17, 2003
Hello Secret ValentineOkay, time to fess it up. Who is Boris secret Valentine?
Is Louis? Not thinking so. Louis only give Valentine to hooker and Louis mother.
Is Bagel Red? Still not thinking so. Bagel Red only love money and Sesame Streets.
So who is Valentine? Ah, is secret. From picture Boris think Valentine is small person, like Webster. This is Boris hunch. Secret Valentine is fun game, no?
Yes! Silly question.
Boris is smiling when secret Valentine send "peek-my-boo" cards. How nice to think of Boris! Cards says "Have you seen me?" with picture. Not yet, secret Valentine! But soon?
Speaking when honest, Boris think secret Valentine not so smart. Underneath picture is name, age, and how tall. Woops! Not so good secret when Boris know how tall is Valentine.
But still, who is complaining? Not Boris isn't. No, not that waste of time for Boris. Instead, Boris walking around town to find Valentine very much. Asking all persons who has four feet and six inch if they are Valentine. Is hard work! Not so many persons wanting to hold still for measuring stick. Boris understand, some persons in hurry or already has Valentine.
"But Boris!" is what you are thinking. "Do not you have fiancée person to be Valentine?" No, no, sorry friends. Fiancée person with leopard pants leave Boris goodbye. She go to meet friend John and do magic trick and never come back to Boris. Sad, yes. But as...
º Last Column: Boguslaw Sadowski º more columns
Okay, time to fess it up. Who is Boris secret Valentine?
Is Louis? Not thinking so. Louis only give Valentine to hooker and Louis mother.
Is Bagel Red? Still not thinking so. Bagel Red only love money and Sesame Streets.
So who is Valentine? Ah, is secret. From picture Boris think Valentine is small person, like Webster. This is Boris hunch. Secret Valentine is fun game, no?
Yes! Silly question.
Boris is smiling when secret Valentine send "peek-my-boo" cards. How nice to think of Boris! Cards says "Have you seen me?" with picture. Not yet, secret Valentine! But soon?
Speaking when honest, Boris think secret Valentine not so smart. Underneath picture is name, age, and how tall. Woops! Not so good secret when Boris know how tall is Valentine.
But still, who is complaining? Not Boris isn't. No, not that waste of time for Boris. Instead, Boris walking around town to find Valentine very much. Asking all persons who has four feet and six inch if they are Valentine. Is hard work! Not so many persons wanting to hold still for measuring stick. Boris understand, some persons in hurry or already has Valentine.
"But Boris!" is what you are thinking. "Do not you have fiancée person to be Valentine?" No, no, sorry friends. Fiancée person with leopard pants leave Boris goodbye. She go to meet friend John and do magic trick and never come back to Boris. Sad, yes. But as Louis say there is lots of bitches to go fishing.
And now Boris steps on sunshine because there is secret Valentine! Such happy thing, yes. Valentine in America is much better from Valentine in Homeland. In Homeland, man come to door with gun and yelling "I kill Boris who knock up sister of me!" What shit is that Valentine, no?
No, in Homeland is not romance like America. There is all about marry teenage girl just because she has little Boris in belly. Boring says Boris! In America is all about find love at end of magic movie with beautiful girl who is not talking too much. Yay for America!
So Boris is looking all over for Valentine, at hardware store and down by river. Louis say to look in dressing room at bikini store, lots of womens there. Louis also say look in yellow book for escort service, but Boris think secret Valentine is too small for driving. Maybe with blocks tied on shoes, or small size car which runs on battery. But blocks make it hard for Valentine to go dancing, so Boris think maybe she is not in yellow book. Maybe Boris will check at store for stilts!
Yes, yes. Boris will go to stilt store to buy stilts. Then when secret Valentine sees Boris on stilts, and secret Valentine is on stilts, it will be romance like magic circus movie. Yay for Boris idea! º Last Column: Boguslaw Sadowskiº more columns
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Quote of the Day“I have not yet begun to fight! When I have begun, it will look quite different. Fists will be flying about, and you will hear a high-pitched whistling sort of sound that will actually be a scream. In fact—I'll make a little hand gesture to let you know. When you see that, that will let you know I'm fighting.”
-John Paul Jones RingoFortune 500 CookieLove is a relative term, but even that nugget won't save your ass if you pork your cousin. Stay away from salty snacks this week, even if it means tunneling underground. Try wearing your watch on the other arm—maybe that's your problem. This week's lucky names: Alexia. Ephyn. Scatman. Toolio.
Try again later.Least Popular Baby Names, 2005| 1. | Katrina | | 2. | Gigli | | 3. | Scott Peterson | | 4. | The King of Pop | | 5. | Skullfuck | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Red Bagel 8/9/2004 A Fistful of Tannenbaum Chapter 6: Wheel of ShameEditor's Note: Just before now, Jed Foster and Middleschmertz Reilly are beared down upon by Surprise Truck. That's all you need.
"I'll be a son of a bitch!" exclaimed Jed Foster, proposing what many others had already suggested. "Paulette Standiford!"
Yes, Paulette Standiford—the brilliant and beautiful conspiracy-cracker formerly of the government agency N.O.R.T.O.N., but now putting her talents to the aid of Anti-N.O.R.T.O.N. underground operatives; Paulette Standiford, who had partnered with Jed Foster on a multitude of adventures in prequel stories yet to be written, or even thought of; Paulette Standiford, whose name had been rewritten from Studebaker since the last chapter.
"I'll be a monkey's uncle," said Reilly, and he actually...
Editor's Note: Just before now, Jed Foster and Middleschmertz Reilly are beared down upon by Surprise Truck. That's all you need.
"I'll be a son of a bitch!" exclaimed Jed Foster, proposing what many others had already suggested. "Paulette Standiford!"
Yes, Paulette Standiford—the brilliant and beautiful conspiracy-cracker formerly of the government agency N.O.R.T.O.N., but now putting her talents to the aid of Anti-N.O.R.T.O.N. underground operatives; Paulette Standiford, who had partnered with Jed Foster on a multitude of adventures in prequel stories yet to be written, or even thought of; Paulette Standiford, whose name had been rewritten from Studebaker since the last chapter.
"I'll be a monkey's uncle," said Reilly, and he actually was. "Jed said you were dead."
"The only thing that's dead is Jed's sex life," innuendoed Paulette. "Now, if you don't mind, I think we have a Surprise Truck to deal with."
Paulette couldn't have spoken more timely, or sexier, since Surprise Truck was still barreling down on them like a beer-barrel-ish truck. It's honking could be heard miles and miles away, and even though it goes 200 miles per hour, it had somehow not hit them while they were talking.
"Jump!" said Reilly, pushing Jed, who pushed him back and started a small fight before they lunged from the path of the truck. Surprise Truck raced past them, rolling over a nursery, a pet store selling baby kittens, and a nun training school.
"That's a wicked truck!" snapped Reilly. "What do you think we should do, Paulette?"
She commanded they follow her, and they liked being bossed around; together they found their way to Paulette's motorcycle, which could go 201 miles per hour—fast enough to outrun Surprise Truck.
"We can't run from her forever!" said Jed. Then he considered inventing a pair of cybernetic running legs with a nuclear power generator, that could conceivably keep them running long after their bodies had passed on and turned to dust; but that was stupid, and would be hard to build with the Truck right on their tails. He was right the first time, they couldn't run forever.
"If I can lure Surprise Truck away, maybe one of you two," she said, pointing needlessly at Reilly and Jed Foster, "can climb up in her cab and pull the emergency break."
Jed and Reilly looked at each other and shared a glance so meaningful I'm not going to try to describe it.
"I'll do it," said Reilly.
"But Reilly! That's almost certain death!" He wasn't sure why he said that.
"We've all got to die some time, Jed—but not me. I'm going to live forever. So watch this."
Reilly foolishly took off, and started his plan by hiding in an alleyway. Jed thought about stopping him, but didn't want to get killed himself, too. He felt like a failure. Reilly had the courage to face Surprise Truck head-on, but Jed had shrunk from the task.
"Finish your internal monologue later!" snapped Paulette. "Hop on! Here comes Surprise Truck!"
Honk! Honk! declared the Truck. It was the only part of her that wasn't mad.
Next Chapter: Bomb of Ages   |