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African Coup PrivatizedFebruary 21, 2005
Cape Town, South Africa
Whit Pistol
"Smashing tits!" thinks Mark Thatcher, upon leaving a Cape Town courthouse.
A
frican politics managed a rare chance to draw the attention of the western world when good-natured white boy Mark Thatcher, son of Der Iron Girdle former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, finally answered accusations he and other exceptionally-Caucasian financiers backed a coup of the African nation of Equatorial Guinea.

Equatorial Guinea, a sub-Saharan country in Africa, established its independence in 1968 from Spain and has lived under a dictatorship ever since. In 2004, a group of mercenaries were arrested and charged with plotting a coup in the country when their plane landed in Zimbabwe, those on board demanding they find a movie other than Kangaroo Jack to play for the rest of the trip. Authorities in Zimbabwe, Equatorial Guinea, and South Africa charge ...Read more...


Yale bombed, Harvard too drunk to walk home

Guy at next table eating salt right out of shaker

High Friends, Frasier ratings inspire NBC to end all current sitcoms

Paul Giamatti snubbed in "Sexiest Man Alive" contest



December 9, 2002

Click for Biography

There Was No Way to Tell

The tree hopped down from the hill
and he dashed through the field.
The sun had been peeled
and the clouds were as plump
as a Chinaman's rump.

A squirrel was asleep on a branch,
he awoke with a blanch
and he turned a stark white
when the fright
leapt up from his toes like a flash.

A duck somersaulted through the grass,
he was stoned off his ass
on crackers.
No, no, quackers!
The duck thought this funny as he saulted.

So he missed it when the tree ran by,
though a fly
saw it twelve dozen times
because that's the kind of eyes
God gave him, we surmise
he got bored after five.

When Luchas, who was chewing on a fig
he had pulled from his wig,
saw the tree he cashed it in.
In the seat of his pants,
where a platoon of ants
quickly voted to find a new place to live.

Sanchel thought the thing was a dream,
so she couldn't help but scream
when she saw the tree had ice cream.

"A looper! A looper on the loose!"
cried a tri-colored goose
when he saw the tree streak nakedly by.

"Ah-ah?" said poor Renal from the South
as ham fell from his mouth.
When the tree stepped on right-foot blue
he forgot how to chew,
his Twister picnic interrupted.

The scientist was taken aback
while on her date with Lumber...Read more...


º Last Column: Through the Colon of a Whale
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December 12, 2005

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The Red Badge of Adulthood

There comes a time in every man's life when he must become a man. Except for Pee Wee Herman or Michael Jackson. (Owing to weirdness.) Or Gary Coleman, owing to shortness. Or unless he becomes a woman first, like RuPaul. But everybody else: eventually you've got to pony up. And Omar Bricks' pony is here.

How do I know? Read the tee-shirt, bitch.

Some misguided fucknuts actually consider home ownership to be the tell-tale sign of adulthood, but you and I know better than that. After-all, the King of China has a million palaces and he's only like five. Or if you need an example that hits closer to home, think of the Olsen Twins, or that kid from War of the Worlds. I'm sure they've all got houses, and probably in the same neighborhood. Which would suck if you live in that area, since your neighbors never mow their lawn or take out the trash, and just want to play with LEGOs all day. Which is a complaint several of my neighbors have levied against yours truly, sure, but I'd like to see some kid invent an air cannon to shoot his garbage over his house and into his neighbor Mitch's back yard, which is where that mountain came from that Mitch skis on in the winter.

No, an adult isn't made by the things he owns: not a house, not a dog, and most definitely not a car he borrowed from some bank robbers in Panama. An adult is made by whether or not other people think he's an adult, and Omar Bricks now owns a shirt that says ADULT on it in big, red...Read more...


º Last Column: God's Hands
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Milestones
1999: Raoul Dunkin's first play, The Touch of Love, is put on in the commune break room by giggling staff reporters who find it unguarded in Dunkin's desk.
Now Hiring
Park Ranger. Duties include curtailing activities of bears, from large-haired picnic-basket stealing fun-lovin' bears to savage, towering vicious grizzly bears. Encountering bears is unlikely within the office, but your presence should finally shut up bear-phobic Ivana Folger-Balzac.
Top-Selling Software
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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 Orson Welch
9/20/2004
Do they even release movies to the theaters anymore? Each week it becomes more difficult to find a DVD release to review that wasn't a movie released years ago. And of those, it's even harder to find one that wasn't re-released on DVD with removed footage put back in to make a "director's cut" or such nonsense. If Hollywood sees fit to release so many director's cut editions these days, you'd think they'd consider actually letting a director cut his own film for the theatrical release, there would be a novel thing. On second thought, I have reviewed some director's releases. Maybe they should just let me cut all the films. They'd be much shorter and not so concentrated on a linear storyline. However, enough about my whims—let's begin with the biggest re-release of all time. Read more...

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