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 January 12, 2004 |
Washington, D.C. Junior Bacon President Bush pantomimes being killed by an illegal alien (inset).
Amid the stunned silence of the gathered crowd, President Bush detailed his controversial new plan.
“We may not have the weapons technology today to send aliens back to hell where they belong, blowing holes in them...
€śIt’s clear that our current policy regarding aliens in this country is not working,” announced President Bush last Wednesday from the White House East Room, introducing proposed changes to America’s immigration policy. “For years we’ve tried the hard line approach, and we’ve all seen the results. It’s time for a change. Do I have the answers? Ha ha, good one. But I do know one thing is clear: These are some scary fuckers. I’m not kidding, they’ll bite your head off and crap eggs down your throat just as soon as look at you.”
Amid the stunned silence of the gathered crowd, President Bush detailed his controversial new plan.
“We may not have the weapons technology today to send aliens back to hell where they belong, blowing holes in them the size of a pie plates as they collapse in a pool of their own acid-burning blood and we laugh,” admitted Bush reluctantly, making a machinegun motion with his hands. “God himself knows I wish this was true. Anyone who watches television knows we’ve tried. Three, maybe four times. But it’s time to admit our failure, and accept these aliens into the fabric of American society. Until such time as we have some kind of plasma gun and we can blow their guts out their asses, that is. But nobody tell any aliens that last part or you’ll spoil the secret.”
Despite the aim of Bush’s staff to bolster the president’s chances of reelection by improving relations with the Latino community, to the White House’s dismay the proposed policy changes were not as immediately popular with Hispanic groups as expected.
“There’s just no pleasing some people,” Bush said later, disappointed that the Hispanic community failed to see the value of not being eaten by aliens.
Under Bush’s proposal, all aliens would be granted temporary visas to live “in Michigan or some place” where they’re not likely to harm the voting public.
“Aliens have the same right to work as everybody else,” suggested Bush. “And they can fill lots of jobs Americans wouldn’t want, like working deep underground or fighting Godzilla.”
The political response on Capitol Hill has been muted, with Democrats indifferent to Bush’s plan and Republicans insisting they didn’t hear anything about no aliens.
“What, seriously? You’re asking me about this?” responded Rep. J.D. Hayworth, R-Ariz.
“It might be politically safer to ignore this issue,” Bush stated, affecting a somewhat British accent to sound statelier. “But this is something I cannot do. Some might think aliens are no big deal, or that we can ignore this problem and have it go away. But those are always the same guys who get sick at the dinner table and then they suddenly have an alien larvae shoot out of their chest like some kind of gory jack-in-the-box.”
“Ow,” Bush stated, wincing and clutching at his chest in mock-discomfort. “That ain’t gonna be me.” the commune news has always been radically progressive regarding immigration issues, and yes, that was us picketing outside the theater when the heavily-biased Alien 3 was released. Lil Duncan is all for open borders and any other measure that steers more hot, young Latino men toward her web. Canada, however, can keep its pasty white sons as far as she’s concerned.
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Cruise, Holmes totally in love with each other's media exposure
Flood-based sitcoms and movie scripts shelved indefinitely
New EPA head "strongly leaning" toward pro-environment stance
T-Rex found with primitive bathroom tissue stuck to foot
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Popular TV Clown Robertson Delivers Weekly Outrageous Banter Terrifying children worldwide with his announcement that not all dogs go to heaven, Christian doorknob Pat Robertson reprised his role this week as America’s favorite amusingly religious guy. Nation’s Three Remaining Liberals Turn to Humor to Survive Arizona Border Patrol Installing Landmines Eminem, Ex-Wife Reunite to Work on New Material |
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 March 18, 2002
Family FeudDon't get me started, Shorty. You know exactly how I feel about them McEnroys across the gully. A fouler people there never was burped up onto the earth, and that's one scientific fact. When I was in shorty-pants my daddy told me about them McEnroys, givin' in me the good sense to hate them as does all God's green creatures. And dang did daddy hate them McEnroys. Like his daddy afore him and so on and so what back to the day when grand-grandpa Peter done stepped right in a big dollop of moose puddin' that grand-grandpa McEnroy did left on his porch as a early-mornin' prank of sorts. But this was one of them pranks that was destine not to get no laughs, 'cause grand-grandpa Peter was wearin' the new toot-boots he just got for Christmas a few days afore, the ones with the lyrics to "Sweet Mona May" embroidered around the back. You seen them boots Shorty, an I don't need to tell you how they was shamefully ruint. Dang if that wasn't one o' them tragedies o' bible-belt proportions.
And so it done started that my family always hate them McEnroys, and them McEnroys ain't none too fond on us, neither. As you would expect from a McEnroy, them bein' no higher than snake's ass draggin' on the asphalt. Over the years this county has seen quite a feud, with plenty o' moose puddin' left strategicaldy here an there. It's been a feud that claimed more than a few lives isself, too, like the time Bobby Mo and Steefie was blowed up tryin' to make an atom bomb out from pig dung an...
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Don't get me started, Shorty. You know exactly how I feel about them McEnroys across the gully. A fouler people there never was burped up onto the earth, and that's one scientific fact. When I was in shorty-pants my daddy told me about them McEnroys, givin' in me the good sense to hate them as does all God's green creatures. And dang did daddy hate them McEnroys. Like his daddy afore him and so on and so what back to the day when grand-grandpa Peter done stepped right in a big dollop of moose puddin' that grand-grandpa McEnroy did left on his porch as a early-mornin' prank of sorts. But this was one of them pranks that was destine not to get no laughs, 'cause grand-grandpa Peter was wearin' the new toot-boots he just got for Christmas a few days afore, the ones with the lyrics to "Sweet Mona May" embroidered around the back. You seen them boots Shorty, an I don't need to tell you how they was shamefully ruint. Dang if that wasn't one o' them tragedies o' bible-belt proportions.
And so it done started that my family always hate them McEnroys, and them McEnroys ain't none too fond on us, neither. As you would expect from a McEnroy, them bein' no higher than snake's ass draggin' on the asphalt. Over the years this county has seen quite a feud, with plenty o' moose puddin' left strategicaldy here an there. It's been a feud that claimed more than a few lives isself, too, like the time Bobby Mo and Steefie was blowed up tryin' to make an atom bomb out from pig dung an gasoline, for what to blow up the McEnroy trailer an above-ground hot tub.
You know as well as anyone, Shorty, that I myself have had my own share o' close calls with that McEnroy clan. Remember the time a few winters back when we found that gopher done froze up solid in the ditch, and we build that catapult out from underwear elastic to shoot that frozed critter up onto the roof o' the McEnroy trailer? To this day I still think that was the best idea you ever had, Shorty. Sometimes when I've got trouble sleepin' I like to lay awake an think o' what it woulda been like if it had worked, an that critter woulda thawed in the springtime an created a powerful stink up there on that roof, an them McEnroys woulda just thought it was they own foul behinds makin' the stink. An I don't care not what nobody says, Shorty, neither o' us had any way from knowin' that icy critter was gonna come crashing down through the McEnroy roof and break botha grandma McEnroy's legs while she was sittin' there watchin' the $25,000 Pyramid.
Nobody who's not a liar can prove it was me who did put that greased pig in the McEnroy's station wagon last summer, though I will admit to laughin' the hardest when we was watchin' them try to get that pissed-off squealer to come on out o' the car. Some have said that was the best prank pulled on the McEnroys since the time my own daddy snuck in on a moonless night an covered that whole property with mouse traps. That next morning this valley sounded like a good day in Vietnam, Shorty, and a finer day our family has never seen.
Sure, the McEnroys have had they own laughs at our expense, as is to be expected in any proper feud. Like all the times they've had the law on our tails, bringin' charges of assault with a deadly carcass and grand theft of a trailer home and stalkin' or whatnot. I have to say Shorty, them McEnroys got they own style o' feudin'. It's not like a McEnroy to grease your handrail or fill up your outhouse full of locusts. They're much more fond of callin' out the law every time one o' our pranks against them ends up causin' serious property damage or cripplin' the elderly. That's just like a McEnroy, too. Always takin' the high road.
Dang if I don't hate them McEnroys, Shorty. Where's my potato gun? º Last Column: The Lucky Breakº more columns
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|  April 23, 2007
Kibbles 'n ShitAny of you hear about this poisoned dog food scare? I don't know how long this shit's been going on, I only found out when they cut into KNTZ's rock block on Thursday night to announce that Spuds MacKenzie was dead, from an Alpo overdose. At first I was like, yeah, bullshit, that dog drank enough Budweiser to put a Kennedy in the ground, but then my neighbor Mitch said something about feeding his dogs nothing but deer meat until the epidemic blew over. He said that's why he'd spent the whole night driving drunk in the woods, hoping to hit a Bigfoot or something he could tell his dogs was deer meat. That was after he went to the zoo to shoot a deer and they turned him away because you need some kind of permit or something to hunt at the zoo. You really do learn something new every day.
Anyway, Mitch may be a lot of things, but he sure as hell doesn't follow directions, so I was pretty sure the tainted dog food noise was for real. And Foghat barfs and shits all over the place more than enough already when he's healthy, I can't afford however many of those shit-eating Roomba robots it would take to keep up with him if he caught Ass-Dropitis, or whatever this new dog plague is.
They didn't say on the radio which brands of dog food were tainted, but I wasn't taking any chances, so I threw out all the Chuck Wagon in the house immediately. I've never been comfortable with how much that name sounds like Upchuck Wagon anyway. And Iams was right out, too, because...
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Any of you hear about this poisoned dog food scare? I don't know how long this shit's been going on, I only found out when they cut into KNTZ's rock block on Thursday night to announce that Spuds MacKenzie was dead, from an Alpo overdose. At first I was like, yeah, bullshit, that dog drank enough Budweiser to put a Kennedy in the ground, but then my neighbor Mitch said something about feeding his dogs nothing but deer meat until the epidemic blew over. He said that's why he'd spent the whole night driving drunk in the woods, hoping to hit a Bigfoot or something he could tell his dogs was deer meat. That was after he went to the zoo to shoot a deer and they turned him away because you need some kind of permit or something to hunt at the zoo. You really do learn something new every day. Anyway, Mitch may be a lot of things, but he sure as hell doesn't follow directions, so I was pretty sure the tainted dog food noise was for real. And Foghat barfs and shits all over the place more than enough already when he's healthy, I can't afford however many of those shit-eating Roomba robots it would take to keep up with him if he caught Ass-Dropitis, or whatever this new dog plague is. They didn't say on the radio which brands of dog food were tainted, but I wasn't taking any chances, so I threw out all the Chuck Wagon in the house immediately. I've never been comfortable with how much that name sounds like Upchuck Wagon anyway. And Iams was right out, too, because that name sounds like somebody was writing "I am sick" but dropped dead before they could finish. Too suspicious. Science Diet was nixed as well, because I've never liked the idea of scientists experimenting on my dog. Leave that shit for the rabbits and half a cow or whatever they do. I mean, what if the experiment this week is to see what happens to dogs when they eat ground-up Nerf balls? I ain't bankrolling that shit. In the end I decided Kibbles 'n Bits was the way to go, even though I have no idea what a kibble is, but that's all Foghat will eat anyway. But how to know if the dog food was safe? I figured there was only one way to be sure: I'd have to try it myself. This isn't as gross as it sounds, after all, what do you think Cocoa Puffs are? You can make anything taste good if you add enough chocolate. The shit really wasn't that bad, and the milk helped. But half an hour later I was feeling like Andre the Giant had crawled inside my nutsack and died. And Foghat wasn't looking too hot either, just laying there on the couch, watching World's Wildest Police Chases, barely moving. True, that's his normal state of being, but normally he hasn't just eaten an assload of possibly-tainted dog food. So I did the only thing a responsible dog owner could do: I rushed Foghat to the emergency room. And you know what? We waited in line for three hours at that fucked-up place, like there was going to be a roller coaster or something, before somebody told me they don't treat dogs at the emergency room any more and I had to find a vet. Goddamn this luck. Well, guess what I found out at the VFW? Yep, those motherfuckers have sworn off curing dogs as well. Isn't there anybody in this whole goddamned town with the balls to de-sick my dog? After that I blacked out, and woke up on my couch back home. Turns out Foghat had dragged me all the way back home because he was missing Nanny 911, so I guess he got over whatever he was dying from. True, my car was still over at the VFW, and all my clothes were ruined from being dragged all the way across town by a dog with a saliva problem, but I was mostly just happy that Foghat was okay. Then I threw up from the bottom of my balls. Don't eat dog food, it's bullshit for people. Bricks out. º Last Column: Driving My Life Awayº more columns
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Quote of the Day“Yes, madam, I may be drunk, but you are ugly and in the morning I shall still be drunk! Wait a minute… Okay, I've got a match for you: your butt and my face. TouchĂ©.”
-Quentin HillchurchFortune 500 CookieHappiness is indeed a warm gun, but you're not supposed to warm it in your ass like that. If your life is lacking direction this week, we've got one word for you: North. As you have long suspected, recreational drugs are the answer. This week's lucky charms: taupe meatballs, turquoise speculums, puce gallstones, gold bullets.
Try again later.Top Nicknames for Each Toe| 1. | Lil Pete | | 2. | Sweat Hog | | 3. | Midlor, the Middle Toe | | 4. | Die Schweine! | | 5. | Mr. Overrated | | 6. | King Shit | | 7. | Toe Ain't So Big | | 8. | Jam Salad | | 9. | Steve McQueen in The Great Escape | | 10. | Phantom Itch | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 2/3/2003 Well Hop on Pop, it's time for another installment of Entertainment Police. I guess we just couldn't hold it in any longer. Feast your eyes (and if you really are, literally, feasting your eyes, drop me an email because that sounds freaky as hell and I'm curious as to how it works) on the latest and, by default, greatest films that Hollywood is wedging in between Coke commercials this week:
In Theaters
Final Destination 2
Raise your hand if you knew there was a Final Destination 1. At first I thought this might be one of those joke titles like Leonard Part 6 or Jaws 2, but then I realized it wasn't funny, so there must really be a first film. I asked around and nobody...
Well Hop on Pop, it's time for another installment of Entertainment Police. I guess we just couldn't hold it in any longer. Feast your eyes (and if you really are, literally, feasting your eyes, drop me an email because that sounds freaky as hell and I'm curious as to how it works) on the latest and, by default, greatest films that Hollywood is wedging in between Coke commercials this week:
In Theaters
Final Destination 2
Raise your hand if you knew there was a Final Destination 1. At first I thought this might be one of those joke titles like Leonard Part 6 or Jaws 2, but then I realized it wasn't funny, so there must really be a first film. I asked around and nobody had heard of it, but somebody told me to check the Internet Movie Database, some sort of government Big Brother thing where they list every movie that anyone has even thought of making. I thanked the guy, of course, but couldn't get behind his back to make the cuckoo faces fast enough. What a freak. Like anybody cares that much about movies. Most directors can't even remember most of their films, and let me remind you, they're the ones getting paid. So anyway, the only conclusion I could come to was that there never was a Final Destination 1, but for some reason the studio wants us to believe there was. Like maybe if we can't remember the first one sucking, we'll figure it was good and be eager to see the sequel. A clever ploy, probably the smartest thing Hollywood has done since making the smallest soda size bigger than any human bladder, so you have to pay to see 9 ½ Weeks twice to catch the part you missed while you were pissing out in the hallway. But anyway, now that I've deflated the silicone out of their fake-boob premise, the real question is, should you want to see Final Destination 2? There's another question in there, too, which is if this film is a hit, will they call the next film Final Destination 3 or just admit the ruse and call it Final Destination 2 again? My guess is that they'll dodge that bullet altogether and go with some safe bullshit title like Finaler Destination or My Big Fat Final Destination. But getting back to the original question, the answer is: six.
The Recut
Al Pacino and Colin Farrell star in this boldly experimental film about Al Pacino being Al Pacino. And the funny thing is that I don't think Al Pacino's really even in the movie at all, the whole thing is just a bunch of famous scenes from Al Pacino's other movies cut together. Average white man Colin Farrell is computer-dumped into every scene to add continuity, using the same technology they used to treat us to John Wayne crapping in a beer commercial and Gandhi telling us why he'd drive a Volvo. The result is startlingly similar to Al Pacino's last eighteen films, at a fraction of the cost. Will this bold experiment in giving viewers exactly what they want pay off? That's hard to say, but I did love the parts where Farrell ad-libs and makes it sound like Pacino's talking about something other than what he was in the original films, like when Pacino's famous "Just when I think I'm out…" speech from The Godfather of Soul becomes about him mud-wrestling with Barbara Bush and Margaret Thatcher on peyote.
Shanghai Knights
This isn't the first time a poorly conceived theme restaurant has been made into a movie, and unless somebody was killed by a helicopter while they were filming, this probably won't be the last. But this film certainly deserves its claim to fame as the most recent. An offshoot of those annoying restaurants where yuppies pay to eat with no silverware while a bunch of gay failed actors bash about with swords and armor and people pretend like they're having fun, the Shanghai Knights chain at least made the improvement of offering Chinese food. The upshot here was that even in those backwards historical times the Chinese knew what the hell silverware was, even if they thought it was chopsticks. But how to translate this improvement into movie success? Well, you could do worse than casting the likeably gay duo of awkward nose model Owen Wilson ( Dennis the Menace, The Math Man) and Attention Deficit Asian Jackie Chan ( Ladder Fight Disco, The Underpants) in the lead roles, and surrounding them by an able supporting cast that falls down in charming ways. The script is a little on the thin side, but that's to be expected as it was based on a menu. However, even with all its shortcomings, this film is a marked improvement over previous efforts in the genre, such as the unfortunate Steak Knight and the truly wretched Eat Your Chicken or Die.
In order to keep up with the prevailing trends in Hollywood as of late, I've decided to open up some new revenue streams for the column by inserting product placements and some ads here and there, you know, because nobody gives a shit anymore. So as I sit here and drink my Gnert‡ cola and sniff some Elmer's‡² glue while I ponder the mid-winter movie season, let me be the first to suggest that it'd be awfully nice to have my cock sucked by a hooker‡³ right about now, maybe while I was smoking some crack†. Yeah, that would definitely help these movies go down smoother.   |
