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We love the ‘80s
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Little Mexican Boy Separated from Father Useless in Advancing American Politics

April 6, 2000
San Pocos, CA
Reggie "Snapper" McGee
Carlos Montoya lets a country down
N
ine-year-old Carlos Montoya has been separated from his father since his mother, aunt, and maternal grandparents smuggled him and themselves across the Mexican-U.S. border in late 1999 to find work across the border. After his mother mysteriously disappeared, believe to be carted away by a pimp named Slappy, Carlos has lived with his aunt and grandparents in a dumpster outside a class in a poverty-stricken area of San Pocos, California.

And, according to Attorney General Janet Reno, Carlos has done little, if anything, to advance the American political agenda.

"I don't want to point any accusatory fingers," Reno said in a recent press conference, as she scowled at the little boy, freshly arrived for the press conference from a filthy cardboard box, "...Read more...


Vietnam marks fall of Saigon with Sly Stallone film festival

NASA: Plutonium space rockets should make awesome explosions

Full-frontal portrait of Egyptian pharaoh, lucky bastard found

Gonzo shot from cannon, fulfilling Muppet's greatest wish



December 15, 2000

Click for Biography

Doin' Fine

I must say with one-cup astonishment, two cups of mistrust, I'm doing perfectly well this week. That's right, Rokophiles, Mama Finger's boy has no outstanding bones to pick or societal ills to attack. Oh, sure, I imagine there's plenty of bad things happening in our world—there always is—but at the moment none seem to concern me.

No, I'm not in love—at least not in love with anyone new; just my lovely wife of thirty years, Arvelyn, our cat Makeshift, and maybe the commune stockboy—he does freshen your paperclip cup even before it's empty, that charming fop.

Nor is my cheerful demeanor the by-product of any dangerous mind-expanding new drug. I can assure you good people I'm on nothing stronger than good ol' black coffee, Tylenol, and the Cannabis prescribed for my foot pain.

I can't explain why, I'm just happy. Oh, to be sure, I've got things to be unhappy about—by the barrelful! But at this time, I'm just having a good day.

At this moment the President, what'sisname, could pop up on my screen and announce that the race war has just broken out at long last, and my response would be: "Eh." I kid you not. I'm just generally doin' fine.

I'm not sure how my wife's doing—I should ask her. I suppose she's just fine, though. She's always been fine even when I've not been so fine, she just leans toward finality, I think. I'm sure Makeshift has no feline worries—perhaps feline leukemia, if he's a...Read more...


º Last Column: God Owes Me BIG TIME
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June 9, 2003

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Mornin' Ralph, Mornin' Sam

Well, it seems as if another baseball season is well upon us, with the grotesquely overgrown boys of summer regaling us with their rawhide antics. This season has progressed like many others, with the Yankees and Braves keeping things safe for folks who only check the standings every couple of years, and the Mets playing a brand of baseball so ugly even the New Yorkers have noticed. I've been saying for years that trading for Mo Vaughn was a mistake, that team just hasn't been the same since he ate the middle infielders.

Last year the big controversy was steroids, when the apathetic public finally took notice after enough guys had their meat-laden arms rip out of the sockets mid-swing, drenching the field in a strange purplish blood that singed the grass. Ken Caminiti admitted to using steroids during his years as a player, which was just as shocking as Cheech and Chong dropping the bomb that they occasionally enjoyed a little toke of the reefer. Most steroid freaks only break a bat over their knee when they strike out, but Caminiti would break bats over his own throat when people pronounced his last name wrong. The league should have taken notice when he stopped wearing a cup and starting wearing a sports bra.

The big story this year is who in the hell did we send to play baseball in Detroit? I know the Red Wings are popular up there but I still say they have no business on the diamond. Get some real ballplayers up there, or at least some...Read more...


º Last Column: Stick a Fork in the Whole Damn Team
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Milestones
1853: The snorkel is invented, leading indirectly to the conception of commune reporter Lil Duncan several years later. STD specialists from the CDC would eventually send a robot back in time in an attempt to prevent this chain of events from occurring, but tragically this move caused the Short Circuit franchise of films in the 1980's instead.
Now Hiring
Midwife Crisis. Not entirely sure what this is, but the guys thought it would be funny. So… Hmm. Uh… well, if you have experience delivering babies in a dramatic and dangerous fashion, then I suppose you should dust off your résumé. No freaks please.
Top Embarrassing Baby Names
1.Skyler Ridge
2.Dakotah Ember-Trace
3.Cheyenne Smokewindow Teardrop
4.Dick Cheney
5.Rat Face
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 Violet Tiara
10/18/2004
Dromediary
Long and hairy luminaries
hang from the sky and dangle scary
fingers downward in repose
just itching to twitch and pick my nose.

Prescient crescents—
the cartoon moons
fill the sky to seven deep
with beauty to cause my golden weep
as I burp softly in my sleep.

Luminous cumulous
clouds form a shroud
around "Downtown" Julie Brown
who just stopped by to make a sound
like a grandfather clock winding down.

The night is lacquered on my crackers
a taste familiar to midnight snackers
the milk is sweetly, sickly sour
when filtered through the midnight hour.

The juice is ruthless as my sweet tooth is
not satisfied by fried rice pies
this milky...Read more...

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