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Bush Tells U.N. Hussein Has Nukes, Eats BabiesSeptember 16, 2002 |
New York, NY Snapper McGee Hussein painting, interpreted by President Bush to be Saddam playing tiny invisible violin for all the live babies he is sitting down to eat resident Bush addressed the U.N. Thursday in an effort to convince the international body to take action against Saddam Hussein, who, according to the president, has the capability for nuclear weapons in his arsenal and commits horrific acts on his own people, like eating babies for supper.
"Iraq has the materials at present time, or will shortly come into possession of them, to produce nuclear weapons," the president told the United Nations audience. "If that threat is not enough, you should hear what he does to his own people. He eats babies, people. I am not kidding. Whole babies, for supper. He butters them like a baked potato and eats them in big bites—I have heard the babies are alive when he does it. I am not kidding."
Members of the audience became unc...
resident Bush addressed the U.N. Thursday in an effort to convince the international body to take action against Saddam Hussein, who, according to the president, has the capability for nuclear weapons in his arsenal and commits horrific acts on his own people, like eating babies for supper.
"Iraq has the materials at present time, or will shortly come into possession of them, to produce nuclear weapons," the president told the United Nations audience. "If that threat is not enough, you should hear what he does to his own people. He eats babies, people. I am not kidding. Whole babies, for supper. He butters them like a baked potato and eats them in big bites—I have heard the babies are alive when he does it. I am not kidding."
Members of the audience became uncomfortable, and looked to each other for a proper response to the president. Several asked their translators to elaborate on the interpretation, believing them mistaken.
"I have heard from proper sources in the White House that Saddam Hussein has personally ordered his military to gather all needed materials to give Iraq nuclear capabilities, to be used in potential retaliation against the U.S. It is also common knowledge among people who have been to Iraq that the men make their wives have sex with their sons while they are watching. All of this is direct influence of Saddam Hussein's rule of Iraq."
The president further explained that nuclear material has been bought or requested for purchase from other nuclear powers like Russia and Pakistan, and that when the mothers and sons make love for the enjoyment of the father, they sometimes act out depraved fantasies about school teachers and troubled students.
"America cannot, and will not allow a man to retain power who would use nuclear weapons in harsh personal vendettas that would endanger our people and his own. A man who punishes his children by pooping on their plates and making them eat it when they have defied him. And in some of these cases, the offense in question was only trying to get a loaf of bread from the cabinet to eat because they are not allowed to eat on days he tells them not to. That's the truth."
The U.N., shortly following the speech, was reluctant to immediately respond. They said the president's remarks would be considered, but they had no plans to further pressure Iraq in the matter of refusing weapons inspectors access to their facilities.
United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan responded to the president, "We are aghast at the allegations by President W. Bush and intend to investigate these matters ourselves. Of particular interest to the member countries of the United Nations are the accusations that President Hussein passes out puppies to audiences before his speeches and tells them he will only continue if they rip the puppies apart. Actions of this nature cannot be allowed to go on."
On the home front, Sen. Majority Leader Tom Daschle stated Congress was reluctant to commit to action against Iraq until further information was available.
"If Iraq has the bomb, we must and will act," Daschle told reporters. "If it's true that you can just drive over children on the streets of Iraq with your car and the police will do nothing to stop it, likewise, in that case we will also be forced to act. A country that barbaric must be re-educated, and a man so despicable that he would set his ex-wives on fire on his birthday, such as Mr. Hussein, must be removed from power." the commune news is morally outraged and immorally engaged. Lil Duncan is the commune's Washington correspondent and will get to the bottom of a story if her name isn't Lil Duncan—however, it is, so she lets it slide this time.
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 May 17, 2004
My Friend PoloI don't know why everybody expects me to know everything around here. "Omar, what's your car doing parked in my office?" "Omar, who the fuck hired Menudo to tile the break room?" "Omar, what ever happened to that Japanese woman you had living in your house?" What am I, Google? Get your lazy ass over to the library and look it up yourself, Curious George. AskOmar.com don't run for free and when I charge, I charge in pain.
I have to admit though; the "Japanese woman" question did get me thinking. I seem to remember something like that, some kind of foreign squatter in the Bricks Manor a little while back. At first I thought I must be remembering some lame sitcom, but according to resident prick Orson Welch, The Jap of Luxury went off the air years ago.
I definitely remember the house smelling like soy sauce a lot last year, and a quick peek into the compost heap outside shows strong evidence that there was a lot of chop-sticking going on around here during the same time period. So it certainly looks like this place was all Japped up for a good couple months last year. Weird.
I decided to hit the Internet for a little research, which mostly turned up strange cartoon pornography that's likely going to screw up my Saturday mornings for the next few years. But the most useful info came from the commune itself (no shit, we're on the Internet now) in the form of my own Polio columns from last fall. That was really a trip; I was wondering...
º Last Column: Happy Camper º more columns
I don't know why everybody expects me to know everything around here. "Omar, what's your car doing parked in my office?" "Omar, who the fuck hired Menudo to tile the break room?" "Omar, what ever happened to that Japanese woman you had living in your house?" What am I, Google? Get your lazy ass over to the library and look it up yourself, Curious George. AskOmar.com don't run for free and when I charge, I charge in pain.
I have to admit though; the "Japanese woman" question did get me thinking. I seem to remember something like that, some kind of foreign squatter in the Bricks Manor a little while back. At first I thought I must be remembering some lame sitcom, but according to resident prick Orson Welch, The Jap of Luxury went off the air years ago.
I definitely remember the house smelling like soy sauce a lot last year, and a quick peek into the compost heap outside shows strong evidence that there was a lot of chop-sticking going on around here during the same time period. So it certainly looks like this place was all Japped up for a good couple months last year. Weird.
I decided to hit the Internet for a little research, which mostly turned up strange cartoon pornography that's likely going to screw up my Saturday mornings for the next few years. But the most useful info came from the commune itself (no shit, we're on the Internet now) in the form of my own Polio columns from last fall. That was really a trip; I was wondering how in the hell people got to our site. Turns out all you have to do is search for "Japanese cat-piss cornhole" and you're there.
So now with that confusion out of the way, I'm faced with a question: What in the hell happened to my Asian live-in cohort? Jesus, you turn around for nine months and these people disappear on you, it's insane.
The last thing I remember, we were teamed up in this rickshaw polo tournament I had organized for charity. Osaka had been building up some serious skills carting me around town during those carless days, and I was getting pretty sharp at not eating shit out the back on sharp turns, so I figured we should put those skills to use for a good cause. There was some static about a school for training immigrants to pull Omar Bricks around town like a dogsled team not being a real charity, but those whiners were weeded out pretty fast and most of them had some pretty sad sack rickshaw-pullers anyway, to say the least. Mostly scrawny neighborhood kids or hookers trying to get off the street, Osaka and I would have poloed circles around them without either of us breaking a sweat.
In retrospect I wouldn't have minded if those guys stayed on, because the poloers who did stick around were a pretty rough bunch who favored a brand of full-contact rickshaw polo that wasn't for the faint of heart. I really felt sorry for anyone who parked their car on Brown Street that day, that's all you need to know.
In the end nobody there could match the skills Osaka and I brought to the arena, but they didn't need to since we flipped the 'shaw while popping a wheelie on the victory lap after I'd scored our first goal. Needless to say the rickshaw was destroyed, which Osaka probably wasn't too thrilled about since she'd paid for it and I'd talked her into getting one of the nice ones, really the Mercedes-Benz of rickshaws, it had a mini-fridge and a doorbell and everything. After the crash there was rickshaw shit all over the street, a stray dog even made off with the portable DVD player. It was a sad scene, especially for me, because I was right in the middle of Rollerball when it happened. I still don't know how that movie ends.
Come to think of it, I don't remember seeing Osaka after the crash, she may have given up on America or been kidnapped by the Triads for all I know. Hell, she could still be at the bottom of that pile of rickshaw rubble, but I bet they've cleaned that up by now. I probably could have stuck around and found out for sure, but the cops were on their way and we only had about ten minutes to make the half-off beers at Runyon's, so nobody was exactly volunteering to hang around for casualty detail.
It's probably all worked out for the best, unless she died. In that case, Osaka, or whatever your real name was, I'll never forget you. Again. After this time, never again. So I'll only forget you once. Probably, can't promise anything. But if you are still around and have learned to read English by now, Foghat's been sleeping on a pile of your stuff, so if you want it back you'll have to talk to him. Bricks out. º Last Column: Happy Camperº more columns
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|  March 18, 2002
New York"The first time I visited New York City it was 1946. The year, I mean. It was hot on the heels of World War II and I was a young man seeking a college internship or a job as a roadie for Glenn Miller.
The city was huge, at least for back then. It was the largest city in the world, bustling and loud, known as 'the city that never sleeps.' In actuality, the city itself is neither asleep nor awake, I think in general they were referring to the population. Although they do sleep, but there's so many people that some sleep in the daytime while others sleep at night, so somebody's always awake. But I'm probably over-explaining.
I saw all the sights while I was there—the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, Coney Island, the art district (or as we called it then, the gay part of town). I was awe-struck by all the great things man could build when we weren't trying to kill people and destroy other countries.
I went to Times Square, and stood there surrounded by people from all over the world. It seemed to me proof positive that people could live beside each other, walk amongst each other, with their own beliefs, religions, even languages, and still get along. I started to think maybe all the troubles in the world comes not from different people living so close together, but from those people living so far apart.
Of course, it's only fair to say I also thought it a good idea to wipe out the Germans and...
º Last Column: Fishing º more columns
"The first time I visited New York City it was 1946. The year, I mean. It was hot on the heels of World War II and I was a young man seeking a college internship or a job as a roadie for Glenn Miller.
The city was huge, at least for back then. It was the largest city in the world, bustling and loud, known as 'the city that never sleeps.' In actuality, the city itself is neither asleep nor awake, I think in general they were referring to the population. Although they do sleep, but there's so many people that some sleep in the daytime while others sleep at night, so somebody's always awake. But I'm probably over-explaining.
I saw all the sights while I was there—the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, Coney Island, the art district (or as we called it then, the gay part of town). I was awe-struck by all the great things man could build when we weren't trying to kill people and destroy other countries.
I went to Times Square, and stood there surrounded by people from all over the world. It seemed to me proof positive that people could live beside each other, walk amongst each other, with their own beliefs, religions, even languages, and still get along. I started to think maybe all the troubles in the world comes not from different people living so close together, but from those people living so far apart.
Of course, it's only fair to say I also thought it a good idea to wipe out the Germans and Japanese both. Like I said, it was 1946, you have to excuse the feelings of the time. I did get over all that and come to appreciate both cultures. I think that was around 1986." º Last Column: Fishingº more columns
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Quote of the Day“Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes! Or, if they're wearing sunglasses, just aim for the balls. Cocky shits.”
-General Dicky PrescottFortune 500 CookieThat noise outside your bushes? It's just me. Something important tomorrow, but I can't remember if it's "lottery" or "leprosy"… Don't forget to check under refrigerator; it's shrimp, that's what you're smelling. Lucky numbers 15 and Qwiddley-Two.
Try again later.Top Frustrating Wi-Fi Dead Spots| 1. | Flower bed outside ex-wife's bedroom window | | 2. | Antarctica. Most of it. | | 3. | Men's room at the zoo | | 4. | Twilight Zone | | 5. | Raging Waters: the whole goddamned theme park | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Orson Welch 12/12/2005 Another year comes to a close for the non- moronic side of the Entertainment Police (no disrespect to my non-movie-watching associate) and I, for one, look forward to putting the misery behind me. So let’s get to the films and save on gab time.
Fantastic Four
It did bear some resemblance to the original comic book, in as much as the film was also static and didn’t appear to move much. But while the comic book was fun and imaginative, if you’re into those sort of things, the film was standard and sleep-inducing. Five astronauts, all related and therefore probably from some sort of "Southern NASA" space program, go into space, screw things up, and end up more powerful for it. Only in comic books can an idiot be rewarded for his mistakes. You don’t...
Another year comes to a close for the non- moronic side of the Entertainment Police (no disrespect to my non-movie-watching associate) and I, for one, look forward to putting the misery behind me. So let’s get to the films and save on gab time.
Fantastic Four
It did bear some resemblance to the original comic book, in as much as the film was also static and didn’t appear to move much. But while the comic book was fun and imaginative, if you’re into those sort of things, the film was standard and sleep-inducing. Five astronauts, all related and therefore probably from some sort of "Southern NASA" space program, go into space, screw things up, and end up more powerful for it. Only in comic books can an idiot be rewarded for his mistakes. You don’t see the captain of the Exxon Valdez out there shooting oil at criminals, do you? But the film could be forgiven those annoying clichés if it had the least little bit of originality to it. Nope. Bad guy goes boom on them, they go boom back, good guys win and wear ridiculous outfits to show school spirit. My only problem with the sequel is, will it be called Fantastic 42? We could be into some serious number issues to tax the American moviegoer next time.
The 40-Year-Old Virgin
And what, exactly, is so funny about a 40-year-old virgin? Maybe he’s just too absorbed in his work to go out and have wild sex parties. Maybe he’s yet to meet his intellectual equal. You know what? Forget it. Movies this insulting to a perfectly respectable demographic of our country aren’t even worth reviewing. Complete garbage. Starring that guy from TV’s crappy American The Office.
The Wedding Crashers
Vince Vaughan and Owen Wilson, two guys who couldn’t carry movies by themselves, are tossed together as business associates who attend weddings to pick up women. A real raucous comedy with a heart of tin, Wedding Crashers is the kind of enduring romantic comedy like 40 Days and 40 Nights that Hollywood aims right for the sweet spot of 18-34 year-old males— yep, you got it: Their wallets. The chemistry is alright, though. Maybe if they had gone the whole Brokeback Mountain route with these two they might have made an interesting movie. Perhaps we’ll see it in the sequel, Wedding Crashers 2: Ass Crashers.
The Island
Here’s a real Christmas gift to all of you who hate movies: A Michael Bay sci-fi flick that seeks to destroy the careers of two of Hollywood’s biggest up-and-coming stars. Ewan MacGregor, sans lightsaber, and Scarlett Johansson, sans Lost in Translation underpants, are clones of complete doorknobs who attempt to escape cloneworld and come to live among the rest of us. They are clearly third-rate clones if they think there’s anything here worth joining us for. And I wish they really were clones, it would explain why they agreed to work with Michael Bay. Maybe it explains Johnny Depp’s current Pirates of the Carribean phase, too.
Happy New Year, America. If you find me wrapped under your tree this year, please leave me there. I’ve had a rough one and would like all the sleep I can get. And just for your information, whoever’s been pasting my picture on that poster for The 40-Year-Old Virgin around the offices… I happen to have a lot of girlfriends. They all work at different websites, okay?   |