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 October 18, 2004 |
Bush and Kerry can agree on one thing: Cockwad? Yes.
According to political pundits analyzing the debates for the major networks, Kerry looks kind of like an alien and Bush makes a lot of stupid faces.
Seeking to differentiate his Buckles position from that of his challenger, Bush accused Kerry of changing his mind about whether or not Mark Buckles was a cockwad, citing Kerry’s infamous “I called...
ast Wednesday’s final presidential debate left many questions unanswered in the minds of American voters, but not among them was the cockwad status of U.S. citizen Mark Buckles. Despite their numerous policy differences, both President Bush and Democratic challenger John Kerry saw squarely eye to eye on the Buckles issue, presenting a unified vision for a future America where Buckles is clearly a total cockwad.
According to political pundits analyzing the debates for the major networks, Kerry looks kind of like an alien and Bush makes a lot of stupid faces.
Seeking to differentiate his Buckles position from that of his challenger, Bush accused Kerry of changing his mind about whether or not Mark Buckles was a cockwad, citing Kerry’s infamous “I called Buckles a cockwad before I didn’t” quote from last year.
“Unlike that Belgian motherfucker over there,” Bush said with his trademark uninformed bravado. “I knew Mark Buckles was a cockwad from the start. And America needs strong leaders who know a Buckles when they see one.”
Meanwhile, Kerry accused Bush of refusing to admit his mistake in branding Buckles a cockwad before all available evidence had been collected, and merely going on the word of Secretary of State Colin Powell, who has personal reasons for his feelings about Buckles.
“Mark Buckles is not the cockwad that George Bush promised America,” explained Kerry. “We were sold a bill of goods. Yes, Mark is definitely a cockwad. But not the king-sized cockwad that this administration painted him to be, when they needed your support to go public about this young man.”
“And as for my cockwad stance,” Kerry elaborated. “At first I gave Buckles the benefit of the doubt, as I’d like to think any strong leader would. But once all the available evidence had been collected, it became clear that Mark is indeed a cockwad.”
Kerry seemed to struggle with his usual problem of talking out of both sides of his mouth during the debate Wednesday, attempting to appease liberals who think Buckles got a raw deal as well as centrist Democrats and undecideds who believe that Buckles is a cockwad, but still think Bush rushed to judgment too quickly in the matter.
Partisans on both sides shared their hysterical reactions with anyone who would listen, even before the debates had ended.
“Kerry is a God among men and his penis is lovely,” explained breathless Democratic partisan Dane Philsley when asked about his candidate’s debate performance.
“George Bush proved once and for all that he farts wisdom into a can for the world to huff,” disagreed Republican partisan Carla Dennis, apparently believing this to be a compliment.
Regardless of who came out ahead in the debates, both candidates have likely lost the vote of Buckles, who could not be reached for comment. Some pundits have argued that Buckles was the real loser of Wednesday’s debate, since whoever wins the November election, Mark Buckles will spend the next four years known as an unmistakable cockwad. What is unknown as of yet is how much of a boost Buckles’ supporters will give third-party candidate Ralph Nader, who has gone on record as saying he’s sure Buckles has his redeeming qualities.
According to a CNN.com instant poll taken immediately following the debates, Mark Buckles sucks balls. the commune news isn’t entirely sure who this Mark Buckles guy is, but he sounds like a dick to us. Boner Cunningham is famous in journalism circles for believing absolutely everything he reads, including a life-changing note written on a cocktail napkin which read “Boner Cunningham pees sitting down.”
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Man who thinks like wife-killing ex-cop needed to catch wife-killing ex-cop
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Mohammed Confesses to 9/11 Attacks, “Falling Down A Lot” During Interrogations Castro Announces 2008 Candidacy; Clinton, Obama Drop Out of Race Conditions at Walter Reed Upgraded to “Nightmarishly Clive Barker-esque” Unveiling of First Black Disney Character Raises Some Concerns |
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 February 3, 2003
The First commune Enthusiasts Club MeetingExuberant salutations, commune Clubbers! Founder, President, and Acting-Motivational Speaker Emil Zender present and accounted for. Where are you?
I could not be happier to deliver the minutes from the long-awaited first meeting of the commune Enthusiasts Club, even if we didn't get the turn out we had originally hoped for. To be completely blunt, me and Vice-President Sandy were more than a little disappointed in the number of people who showed up. It doesn't take a mathematical genius to figure out that if 36 people say they're going to show up and only 2 of those 36 people actually do show up, 1 of whom is yourself… well, that's just lousy, mathematically-speaking.
What happened to everyone? I assured you membership dues could be paid later in the year, completely refundable if the Club was not to your liking, and everybody seemed perfectly happy with that. I gave everyone the commune website address. Did you not check it out? Sure, some potential commune-istas didn't seem as sincere when they said they'd show up, but a few of you sure had me fooled. Those two giggling teen-age girls, now that I think about it, they didn't land on the sincere side.
Just to clarify, we'll be meeting at the number 4 gazebo in Pawtucket Park in Shanesly, Vermont, next Sunday. We'll wait for at least four hours, so if you're late, don't sweat it. And again, we realize that not everyone can make it to Vermont if you don't live in the area, but please e-mail me at...
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Exuberant salutations, commune Clubbers! Founder, President, and Acting-Motivational Speaker Emil Zender present and accounted for. Where are you?
I could not be happier to deliver the minutes from the long-awaited first meeting of the commune Enthusiasts Club, even if we didn't get the turn out we had originally hoped for. To be completely blunt, me and Vice-President Sandy were more than a little disappointed in the number of people who showed up. It doesn't take a mathematical genius to figure out that if 36 people say they're going to show up and only 2 of those 36 people actually do show up, 1 of whom is yourself… well, that's just lousy, mathematically-speaking.
What happened to everyone? I assured you membership dues could be paid later in the year, completely refundable if the Club was not to your liking, and everybody seemed perfectly happy with that. I gave everyone the commune website address. Did you not check it out? Sure, some potential commune-istas didn't seem as sincere when they said they'd show up, but a few of you sure had me fooled. Those two giggling teen-age girls, now that I think about it, they didn't land on the sincere side.
Just to clarify, we'll be meeting at the number 4 gazebo in Pawtucket Park in Shanesly, Vermont, next Sunday. We'll wait for at least four hours, so if you're late, don't sweat it. And again, we realize that not everyone can make it to Vermont if you don't live in the area, but please e-mail me at Zenderphenia@hotmail.com if you want to become a "Friends & Family" commune Club member. And please, fellas, let's lay off the offers for pornographic video and pictures, there are ladies accessing the account, too.
Well, without further delay, I present the minutes from the first meeting, edited for space concerns. With your support I'm sure the next round will be even better.
Emil Zender: commune Club Founder and Acting-President Emil Zender present and accounted for. Announcing the recording of the first Club meeting minutes. Please announce yourself for the sake of the minutes.
Sandy Meckler: *inaudible*.
EZ: I'm sorry, please repeat that louder, for the record?
SM: Sandy Meckler, Emil. You know who it is.
EZ: Then let the record show two present at the meeting's inception, at 4:05 p.m.
SM: You said more people were going to be here. I made sandwiches.
EZ: More people are coming. There were two girls I talked to yesterday who said they wouldn't miss it for the world. I told them there would be sandwiches.
SM: You're such a *expletive deleted*.
EZ: C'mon, there's no need for that. What if children access these minutes in the future?
SM: Why would anybody want to access these minutes? Nobody even wants to be in your stupid club, Emil.
EZ: That's not a very motivational attitude for our Motivational Speaker.
SM: *Expletive deleted* you, Emil. You can *expletive deleted* yourself until your *expletive deleted* explodes. Your club is stupid and you're a *expletive deleted* dip*expletive deleted*.
EZ: Let the record show by a vote of 1-1 Motivational Speaker Sandy Meckler is stripped of her Motivational Speaker status. So enacted by President, Founder, and Acting-Recorder Emil Zender.
SM: Well, I'm not going to be in your stupid communist club if you don't let me have a title. You said I could.
EZ: It would be gross negligence to let you serve in a capacity where you could damage morale. How about Vice-President?
SM: Is that higher?
EZ: You'd be second only to the President, myself.
SM: I'm that anyway. It's only us, you *expletive deleted*. Whatever. I don't care anymore.
As you can see, a lot of details will have to be worked out at the next meeting. We've already hit some rough spots, but even America had to fight a revolution before they could become the country they did. Keep high hopes for the next commune Club meeting!º more columns
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|  June 23, 2003
You Belittle Us AllQuiet now, George. The whiney nasal voice, the croaking complaining, all of it. You embarrass us both, and I won't stand for it anymore.
So what if you have to go to the bathroom and can't? Nobody cares. There—harsh, but high time someone said it. You're at best a spineless jellyfish, George, carrying on about your inconveniences while real suffering abounds in the world. At worst, you're a squirming parasite on the rest of the earth. Don't blame me—you brought it on yourself.
Like the entire town wants to hear about how you can't make water. We all have our crosses to bear, George, and you're no different. Instead of carrying on about how it hurts in your privates and how you fall asleep on the john, why don't you try putting everything in perspective? The War on Terror, the violence in the Middle East, that pregnant lady who was killed by her husband. Did you bother to think about that George? Not being able to drain the vein doesn't sound so bad, does it? You've got it pretty damn easy.
If nothing else, think of me. Me, you're loving wife of however many years. Is it 30 or 50? They blend together with you as a husband, George. You're not so much loving spouse as an unattractive ornament I keep forgetting to get rid of. Years of devoted service to you, for whatever insane reason, and you can't even give me the basic consideration of how ridiculous we look, we, the two of us as a pair, when you carry on about your inability to...
º Last Column: Who's Up for a Little Old School Rap?
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Quiet now, George. The whiney nasal voice, the croaking complaining, all of it. You embarrass us both, and I won't stand for it anymore.
So what if you have to go to the bathroom and can't? Nobody cares. There—harsh, but high time someone said it. You're at best a spineless jellyfish, George, carrying on about your inconveniences while real suffering abounds in the world. At worst, you're a squirming parasite on the rest of the earth. Don't blame me—you brought it on yourself.
Like the entire town wants to hear about how you can't make water. We all have our crosses to bear, George, and you're no different. Instead of carrying on about how it hurts in your privates and how you fall asleep on the john, why don't you try putting everything in perspective? The War on Terror, the violence in the Middle East, that pregnant lady who was killed by her husband. Did you bother to think about that George? Not being able to drain the vein doesn't sound so bad, does it? You've got it pretty damn easy.
If nothing else, think of me. Me, you're loving wife of however many years. Is it 30 or 50? They blend together with you as a husband, George. You're not so much loving spouse as an unattractive ornament I keep forgetting to get rid of. Years of devoted service to you, for whatever insane reason, and you can't even give me the basic consideration of how ridiculous we look, we, the two of us as a pair, when you carry on about your inability to tinkle.
And if I have to hear one more time about how public restrooms make you queasy, George, well, send for the undertaker, that's all I can say. I put up with so much bullhockey over the years already, that's where I draw the line. It's all I can stands, I can't stands no more, as the amusing cartoon character says. Was it Popeye? He's a little like you, George—bald, squinty, poor diction, bizarre huge forearms from God only knows what kind of hand exercises. The comparison ends there, George, for Popeye is at least amusing while you irritate me to the hairs on my head, and Popeye at least served his country valiantly in the Navy, while no one will claim your work at Denny's has done anyone any good.
Do I hate you, George? Indeed hate is a strong word, but let's not hastily dismiss it. Let's say your appeal diminishes more each year and leave it at that. And yes, I would even say every little utterance about your lazy prostate devalues you even more. I would not push a button and wipe you out in entirety, but the day when I could push such a button is not completely inconceivable. Getting closer each day.
The worst thing about you, George, and I hate to be limited to one thing, but I would say it's the disservice you do to the rest of the world. Even those who do not hate you have to admit they wouldn't be sad if you vanished into thin air, like David Copperfield, only to not return. It's not that you mar the world in an ugly way, like a scar, but you certainly don't add anything to the melting pot. You are much like a tambourine sound in a recording most people barely acknowledge, and certainly wouldn't regret losing if the soundman turned the sound out on it. I can mathematically prove the world would be a better place without you, using fractals and long division.
Still, with all that said, happy anniversary. You did remember, didn't you? Remember, you're on thin ground as it is. º Last Column: Who's Up for a Little Old School Rap?º more columns
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Milestones1999: 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 HiringPark 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 Revelations of 9/11 Investigation| 1. | "World Trade Center" actually two buildings | | 2. | Apparently some people don't like the U.S. | | 3. | Bush fled Air Force One in private jet shuttle, "Baby Bush" | | 4. | Possibility tragic incident could have been prevented | | 5. | Colin Powell really nice | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 11/29/2004 Well fancy that, America. If I've ever seen anything fancier, I failed to be adequately impressed and eventually forgot that I saw it. Maybe I have a problem. But there's no time for that right now, Hollywood's been cranking out the skank while we were chatting it up, and if we're not careful they're going to squeeze some of that beef on by, unreviewed. Not on my watch, America.
In Theaters Now:
Alexander
Finally, the controversial story of Alexander Hamilton is coming to the big screen. Did you know he wasn't even a president, yet he still got on our money? Crazy shit. Turns out he was banging the printer's daughter and managed to get his face printed on some test money as a joke, only the money got out and people started spending it, so the...
Well fancy that, America. If I've ever seen anything fancier, I failed to be adequately impressed and eventually forgot that I saw it. Maybe I have a problem. But there's no time for that right now, Hollywood's been cranking out the skank while we were chatting it up, and if we're not careful they're going to squeeze some of that beef on by, unreviewed. Not on my watch, America.
In Theaters Now:
Alexander
Finally, the controversial story of Alexander Hamilton is coming to the big screen. Did you know he wasn't even a president, yet he still got on our money? Crazy shit. Turns out he was banging the printer's daughter and managed to get his face printed on some test money as a joke, only the money got out and people started spending it, so the government had to leave it that way.
The movie does a great job telling Hamilton's tale, and portraying the disbelief among his friends when they go to spend a $10 and see the face of their shiftless, no-account buddy grinning back up at them. And try to tell me that CGI hasn't made movies better after you see Hamilton's half-brother Jake drive an entire horse carriage into a lake from surprise when he gets the news. In the past, we had to just imagine what a scene like that would have looked like, since in reality horses dissolve upon contact with water. But not anymore. I'd comment on the acting in the film, but since I wasn't around 200 years ago to say what these people were really like, I have no idea if the actors did a good job or not. They could be way off for all I know. But I will say that Colin Farrell looks like about ten bucks, so I'm pretty sure he did a good job as Hamilton.
Christmas with the Crack
Tim Allen shocks us again with another bold choice, this time a weird turn as a crack-addicted dad who sells his family Christmas, and his family, in exchange for some sweet, sweet rock. Though the trailer made the movie seem more like Home Improvement by way of Requiem for a Dream, the only really funny scene is when Allen burns his face on a hot crack pipe and has to fake like he hasn't been horribly disfigured. So be warned that while the slapstick plays funny in the trailer, it's actually kind of sad in the context of Allen's self-destructive downward spiral in the film. Except when he's trying to smoke a loaf of crack out of the chimney and he falls off the roof, that shit is funny in any context.
National Treasure
Is anybody else getting sick of these goddamned Olsen twins? I don't even think they look that much alike. If I were buying the pair, I'd ask for a discount on the one on the left. She looks like she's been around the block a few times. But whether you think they're the worst thing to come out of Hollywood since the Asian restaurant bird flu, or just a Nazi plot, all would have to agree it's going a little far to call these two robo-skanks a National Treasure. That's the kind of bullshit treasure you throw back before checking to make sure you weren't holding the map upside down. This movie's got no stars, and I'm not about to give it any.
The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie
Forgive me for being out of the political loop lately, I have to admit I stopped paying attention after Ronald Reagan won Idaho in 1980, and ever since then I've kept abreast of politics solely through the text on the back of boxes of children's breakfast cereal. So I may be the last person on earth to realize there's been a hit cartoon parody of Bob Dole (a Fruit Loops man, by the way) running for years, which has finally Doled its way onto the big screen.
SpongeBob Squarepants hits the former Senator hard where he lives, slamming Dole's love of taking a bath, his proudly uncool nature, and his trademark nasally voice to equally devastating effect. Some might consider the political commentary too harsh, portraying current Vice President Dick Cheney as a bumbling, overweight starfish, and former President George H.W. Bush as a weird hooked-nosed underwater Gonzo-type thing. But I've always preferred my political potshots hard and straight, like a Republican in a titty bar or a shot of whiskey on ice cubes made from whiskey. Can they do that? I mean, does whiskey freeze? I can't believe nobody's ever thought of that before. I'll be right back.
That's the end, America. Get out if you don't like it. And if you do like it, but still want to stick around for some reason, tough tits. I'm not running a youth hostel here. But one of you should stick around to hold the fire extinguisher; I'm not going to be able to sleep until I find out if frozen whiskey can still catch on fire.   |
