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Shooting Turns Comic When Bumbling Teens Shoot Each Other in Hilarious Double-Homicide Hi-JinksAugust 20, 2000 |
Mattawusk, ME Junior Bacon The teens involved were once breastfed
The two teenagers, Rupert Harvey and D. Johnny Watkins, two seniors described as "Prime wedgie material" by athletes across the school, were popular victims of practical jokes and teasing for being so unpopular. As convoluted as that statement may sound, one thing was clear--with Harvey and Watkins, sooner or later, something was going to break. Who knew it would be our funny bones?
"They came in and Watkins told everybody, 'Get down!'" said senior and witness Glenda Berman. "At which point Harvey just started to dance, doing the Running Man and t...
high school lunch room in Mattawusk, Maine got downright goofy Monday when two teen-agers killed each other in an accidental double-homicide called by witnesses, "Just too damn funny." The two teenagers, Rupert Harvey and D. Johnny Watkins, two seniors described as "Prime wedgie material" by athletes across the school, were popular victims of practical jokes and teasing for being so unpopular. As convoluted as that statement may sound, one thing was clear--with Harvey and Watkins, sooner or later, something was going to break. Who knew it would be our funny bones? "They came in and Watkins told everybody, 'Get down!'" said senior and witness Glenda Berman. "At which point Harvey just started to dance, doing the Running Man and then Cabbage-patching. It was so fucking funny I nearly choked. Then Watkins smacked him with his sailor hat." Watkins, apparently the smarter of the duo, then told everybody they would die for their cruelty, at which point Watkins tried to fire the gun but the safety was on. He looked down the barrel, according to junior Darryl Hardin, who said he could barely contain his laughter since he could guess what would happen next. "Sure enough," Hardin said, "Watkins blew his own damn head off. That shit was hilarious, I was howling for minutes. It was like Looney Tunes or something. I halfway expected the gun to say 'Acme' on it." It was at that point, witnesses said, Harvey began to fire his machine gun in fear. The repeating weapon, aimed at the ground, was powerful enough to levitate him feet off the floor as he tried in vain to control it, much to the bemusement of the onlooking not-quite-terrified student body. "Eventually, Harvey just shot himself in the foot," Principal Don Stewart said. "He was howling and bouncing up and down when--" Stewart took several minutes to keep from crying as he laughed even harder. "He shot Watkins again, in the balls, and Watkins, with his dying breath, tightened his grip on the trigger finger and blew Harvey's head off." No longer able to restrain his tears, Stewart wept openly. "It was so fucking funny I shit my pants! I swear." School shootings have steadily been on the increase since 1990, but this was by far the most hilarious incident reported. Hollywood has taken notice as well, already planning a wacky sitcom tentatively titled "Shoot the Mooks" and famed teen scribe John Hughes has reportedly been asking how old Anthony Michael Hall is now, since he would "make a perfect Watkins." the commune News would like to know if you're going to finish that, dude? Ivan Nakutchacokov can be split open and several smaller versions are found within, leading to his office nickname, "Matruschka."
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 July 21, 2003
Boris is PointingThanks to thing which is dollar store, Boris is now having pointer. Is thing for rich persons. Yes, like Boris. In homeland, Boris is always pointing at thing with finger, which is for poor persons to do. Other persons do laugh at this stupid pointing thing that is finger. "What is Boris pointing at?" They do not know. "Maybe him is like big idiot." Is such a bad time for Boris.
But not today in America, where Boris point with button and red light. Now persons know where to look when Boris say to look at person who's butt does not fit inside their pants. Because there is red light like "Oh, that is the butt" or "Oh, those is the dogs which is having sex." There is no more mystery or question like if Boris is full of bologna meat.
This is the way for rich persons to live in America, only having time for electric pointing. Rich person walks around and electric points all day, like "I will buy this and this, and you! You are for parking my car!" This is the fun of being rich persons.
Boris does love such life of walking and pointing. But problem is persons does not do these things like getting Boris car when him is pointing. Them wanting money, which Boris doesn't not have so much. Is sucks to be rich with no moneys.
But rich Boris can still point, which is still best part of being rich. Is easy to make friends this way, by pointing like "You are friend of Boris! So are you!" Is like popular magic.
Some things...
º Last Column: Summertimes
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Thanks to thing which is dollar store, Boris is now having pointer. Is thing for rich persons. Yes, like Boris. In homeland, Boris is always pointing at thing with finger, which is for poor persons to do. Other persons do laugh at this stupid pointing thing that is finger. "What is Boris pointing at?" They do not know. "Maybe him is like big idiot." Is such a bad time for Boris.
But not today in America, where Boris point with button and red light. Now persons know where to look when Boris say to look at person who's butt does not fit inside their pants. Because there is red light like "Oh, that is the butt" or "Oh, those is the dogs which is having sex." There is no more mystery or question like if Boris is full of bologna meat.
This is the way for rich persons to live in America, only having time for electric pointing. Rich person walks around and electric points all day, like "I will buy this and this, and you! You are for parking my car!" This is the fun of being rich persons.
Boris does love such life of walking and pointing. But problem is persons does not do these things like getting Boris car when him is pointing. Them wanting money, which Boris doesn't not have so much. Is sucks to be rich with no moneys.
But rich Boris can still point, which is still best part of being rich. Is easy to make friends this way, by pointing like "You are friend of Boris! So are you!" Is like popular magic.
Some things does not likes to be pointed. Like airplane. Boris feels silly when him does yell "Look at airplane!" but little red pointer ball gets lost on way up to plane. Oh, shits. Where you go, ball? Is not time for hiding, trust Boris! Oh great. Where is for Boris to hide from embarrassment?
Also, womens does not like pointer ball on jugs. Boris try to explain is just magics, does not stain shirt red color, but them still say to take pervert ball off of jugs all the time. So hard to understand womens, or as Louis say, "crazy bitches."
Boris also learn some persons does not like for others to look at their eyeball. Persons is so shy and yelling to take pointer out of eye. Is sad when world is not to share their pretty blue eyeballs.
Pointer thing also is good fun for reading. Reading tells Boris all about who is on televisions today, but is sometimes boring when words talk about serious thing like kids is dead with cancer. But with pointer, there is fun bouncing ball on page like sing-along movie. This make reading fun like game, and Boris love to go around singing Kids Dead With Cancer song until person in vest say not to sing in supermarket. Is so hard to remember all supermarket rules sometimes. º Last Column: Summertimesº more columns
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|  April 28, 2003
Why Do People Have Kids?As Research Editor for the commune, you can bet your collection of used nose plugs that I get my share of stupid questions. "Why is Skyy vodka clear when the sky is blue?" "Who is my biological father?" "What does it mean if my pregnancy test comes out tie-dyed?" "Did you eat all the Oreos again, asshole?" It's enough to make you quit, and I have several times. Unfortunately, the book I'm writing on underground pope boxing in the 14th century has grown so large it's impractical to try and remove it from my office, so here I remain.
However, every once in a while someone asks a question worth answering, besides "Does anyone want pizza?" This time it was the commune's ambassador to our hostile downstairs neighbors at "Crochet!" magazine, Boris Utzov. The other day I was flushing Boris out from under my desk, where he'd become lodged while looking for treasure. After thanking me in his uniquely baffling dialect, Boris asked the question that's been haunting me these past few weeks: Why do people have children? Actually, in retrospect now I have a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to ask me how people have children, but his analogy about a duck in a noose was hard to follow at the time.
Regardless, the question remains. The "why" question, that is. For an answer to the "how" question I refer you to the excellent work of Ms. Tanya Titanic, who has far more experience than I and who is more well-loved by the camera, I assure you.
º Last Column: I've Got Your Atlantis Riiight Here
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As Research Editor for the commune, you can bet your collection of used nose plugs that I get my share of stupid questions. "Why is Skyy vodka clear when the sky is blue?" "Who is my biological father?" "What does it mean if my pregnancy test comes out tie-dyed?" "Did you eat all the Oreos again, asshole?" It's enough to make you quit, and I have several times. Unfortunately, the book I'm writing on underground pope boxing in the 14th century has grown so large it's impractical to try and remove it from my office, so here I remain.
However, every once in a while someone asks a question worth answering, besides "Does anyone want pizza?" This time it was the commune's ambassador to our hostile downstairs neighbors at "Crochet!" magazine, Boris Utzov. The other day I was flushing Boris out from under my desk, where he'd become lodged while looking for treasure. After thanking me in his uniquely baffling dialect, Boris asked the question that's been haunting me these past few weeks: Why do people have children? Actually, in retrospect now I have a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to ask me how people have children, but his analogy about a duck in a noose was hard to follow at the time.
Regardless, the question remains. The "why" question, that is. For an answer to the "how" question I refer you to the excellent work of Ms. Tanya Titanic, who has far more experience than I and who is more well-loved by the camera, I assure you.
As for the why, it is important to begin with the understanding that in ancient times, children were seen merely as a cheap source of slave labor that could be eaten in a pinch. Much like in the modern-day Orient. Children, with their miniature proportions and nimble fingers, were useful for defusing bombs and luring fierce animals away from the valuable members of the tribe. They were also fun to bet on in numerous ways. In jungle cultures, children could be used to retrieve fruits from trees that contained deadly snakes and spiders which would scare off tribe members who knew what snakes and spiders were. In some cultures, children were sent outside to check on scary noises in the middle of the night, protecting less stupid elders from boogeymen and other forms of certain doom.
As civilization advanced, children were used primarily as a food source for the upper classes. Needless to say, the term "kids meal" once held a far different connotation than it does today.
With the birth of modern science, it was discovered that children were high in cholesterol and snot, and subsequently the practice of child-eating fell by the wayside. Eventually it was replaced by the unfortunate practice of child-rearing, which has persisted in one form or another to this day.
Children who were once useful for pearl diving and as stock for soups became an eye-nose-and-throat-sore, as whining of children replaced dining on children and everyone was noticeably crabbier for it. Countless lives were ruined and going to the beach on the weekend became a major pain in the ass. Soon children were even allowed on airplanes, no longer relegated to the ball bin in the belly of the plane. Before long, normally reasonable Arabs were crashing planes into buildings left and right in protest of infants in coach who had been crying in shifts for 14 hours straight.
Saying what happened, however, is far easier than explaining why it did. The tyranny of hormones is an acceptable excuse as to why a pregnant mother might refuse to expel the growing menace from her womb for nine months of overstayed welcome, but what happened to the voice of reason once the tot was shat out into the world? Is it mere sentimentalism or misplaced loyalty that keeps otherwise sane adults from cutting bait and showing this presumptuous little moppet the door?
The best explanation I can offer is that it can all be blamed on Sesame Street, the long-running PBS pro-child propaganda hour. The show has, irresponsibly if not criminally, propagated the falsehood that children are delightful creatures of mirth who brighten the world around them. It is simply too late to discover otherwise when you have one of your own and it loudly wants every cookie in the store, right now. So curse Sesame Street then, if you choose, though a little field research beforehand could have saved you some serious trouble in the long run. Eighteen years worth, by my estimate. º Last Column: I've Got Your Atlantis Riiight Hereº more columns
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Quote of the Day“Get out of my way, you're crapping up my genius, dumbnuts.”
-Ayn RandyFortune 500 CookieAll of those great things we said were going to happen to you last week? Yeah, sorry, we had you mixed up with your brother. You're fucked. Try parking your car at the far end of the lot and walking this week: everyone finds the way you jiggle when you walk highly amusing. Your friends and the packaging aren't lying: that's not toothpaste. Did you really think you were going to get away with naming your son Pringles? This week's lucky ass creams: Vaseline Intensive Hair, Ditch the Itch Ultra, Smooth Movers Hibiscus Scent, Baby's Ass in a Bottle, Johnson & Johnson No More Flaming Mass of Ground Hamburger Hemorrhoid Salve.
Try again later.Top Other Inventions by the Crash Test Dummy Creator| 1. | Self-ejecting canned corn | | 2. | 5-string bass | | 3. | Hot Hands®, the cheapest, safest, easiest way to light your hands on fire | | 4. | Crash Test Dummy Secret Base Playset (Figures sold separately) | | 5. | Freshomatic, battery-powered freshness-testing meter | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 9/30/2002 Happy Birthday, America!
Yeah, I know it's a little late, but some crackhead stole my Dayplanner, so what can you do? We've got eight different kinds of fun coming your way from Entertainment Policeland today, so I hope you're ready. No, that's not a scientific figure and it probably wouldn't stand up to academic scrutiny, but goddammit, we're here to have fun. Leave your nit-picky bummer vibe at the door. We're doing what we can here to get through these Dark Ages of Autumn movie entertainment, and we need your oppressive lab coat act like Traci Lords needs a milk mustache. So let's all get with the program here. On to the movies!
In Theaters
Moonlight Miles
Remember back...
Happy Birthday, America!
Yeah, I know it's a little late, but some crackhead stole my Dayplanner, so what can you do? We've got eight different kinds of fun coming your way from Entertainment Policeland today, so I hope you're ready. No, that's not a scientific figure and it probably wouldn't stand up to academic scrutiny, but goddammit, we're here to have fun. Leave your nit-picky bummer vibe at the door. We're doing what we can here to get through these Dark Ages of Autumn movie entertainment, and we need your oppressive lab coat act like Traci Lords needs a milk mustache. So let's all get with the program here. On to the movies!
In Theaters
Moonlight Miles
Remember back when Dustin Hoffman was in good movies all the time? It seemed like he just wandered from set to set, dropping in to add a few lines to whatever movies looked good. No? Honestly, neither do I, but people tell me it happened. The last thing I liked him in was Hook, that basketball movie with Tommy Davidson, but it wasn't that long ago that he was winning Best Retard Oscars left and right and people said his name louder than they do now. I only found out he was in this movie because his sister was sitting behind me in the theater and she wouldn't shut up about it. Anyway, this movie is fine as entertainment if you're really in the mood to see something about a guy working two jobs at once, which I suppose is a mood people get in sometimes. I thought it was kind of slow myself. They tried to spice it up a bit with some Elton John tunes, but none of them were the Crocodile Hunter song, so I can't say how well that worked. If you ask me, I think Hoffman needs to spice up his own career a bit, maybe by playing a superhero or something. I'm sure there's got to be at least a few of those left, like The Wriggler or Captain Pants or something like that he could sink his teeth into.
Red Dragon
Some people keep on pumping even when the tit done come up dry, and now we can officially add our friends at the Silence of the Lambs franchise to that list. Sure, I think Hannibal Lecter opening up a Chinese restaurant is a clever twist for a new film in this face-eating British Royalty saga, but in case anyone fell asleep before the end of the last one, or crapped out while they were reading the book, he got his hand cut off at the end. And if there's one rule of thumb that every restaurant guide and Fodor's book has in common, it's don't eat at an Asian restaurant where the cook only has one hand. Hell, I don't think Hannibal could even eat Asian food, since you need one hand to work the chopsticks and the other hand to push food onto the chopsticks, otherwise those things are worthless.
Sweet Homo Alabama
See, now this is great. I always have a gay old time every time I travel to the South, since that's just the way they swing it down there. It's not my way, but I'm not about to be the one to suggest we do things Chicago-style when I'm visiting Rome, if you know what I mean. I'm not sure what exactly Chicago-style is, maybe deep dish or something, but the point is that it's not very gay. Unlike the South, which is as homo till the cows come home. And you know, it's about time somebody made a movie about the big gay pool party that the South really is. You might get a different idea watching the news and from books and whatever, but then you get down there and Holy Homo Moses. If you can't get your crops dusted in the South then brother, it just ain't happening. This film does a good job capturing the verve and the sass of the South, though I think they scaled back on the drag queens a bit to make it more palatable for uptight Northern audiences.
The Tuxedo
It's a formula that has worked in the James Bond movies for eons: if the suit is nice enough, it doesn't really matter what boob actor you stick in it for the "motor home cart-wheeling off the cliff oops your fly is open perfect ten swan dive into a glass of French spring water" scene. That suit has been the star of Bond pictures for generations, and somebody finally caught on and spun it off into its own franchise. This time they've blanched spastic Chinese superstar Jackie Chan into the penguin suit, and his brand of "move really fast and pretend it's karate" antics translate well to this rubber-stamped genre. Chan fans will all be satisfied, as the 14 year-olds and the repressed Asian men in the audience get to see some almost-exposed breasts, Jackie falls down a ladder a few times and he uses a nerf ball to beat up a guy who looks kind of like Jet Li. Moviegoers looking for more plot, however, might be somewhat disappointed to find that the film's dialogue is made up entirely of fight noises, like "Ha! Huah! Sho! Nananana! Oooow!"
That's what we've got for you this week, America. Keep coming back next week and you might win a prize or something! I don't know, I'm not in charge of the prizes. It sounds like fun though, maybe we could give away a drug boat or a plate of nachos, something to spice up the week. I'll ask around, there might be some office chairs we're not using or a fax machine that's not chained down. You never know, you could be a winner and nobody bothered to tell you. I'll get back to you on that one.    |
