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Senator John Edwards Not the Guy Who Talks to DeadJanuary 6, 2003 |
Durham, North Carolina Whit Pistol Sen. John Edwards stresses differences between himself and other John Edwards, who lacks an "S" at the end of his name. he country received two unexpected announcements Thursday, when Democrat John Edwards, a freshman Senator from North Carolina, told NBC he would run for president in 2004. Edwards then stunned everyone with the revelation that he was actually not the John Edward from the syndicated Sci-Fi Channel show Crossing Over.
Edward, who claims to be a medium who can talk to dead people, could not be reached for comment. This reporter then asked dead reporter Mordecai "Three Finger" Brown to get a quote from Edward, but Edward did not respond, and only pissed himself.
Meanwhile, Sen. John Edwards was firm in his insistence he was not the John Edward that talks to the dead.
"Of course I don't talk to the dead. I've never even heard of that John Edward....
he country received two unexpected announcements Thursday, when Democrat John Edwards, a freshman Senator from North Carolina, told NBC he would run for president in 2004. Edwards then stunned everyone with the revelation that he was actually not the John Edward from the syndicated Sci-Fi Channel show Crossing Over.
Edward, who claims to be a medium who can talk to dead people, could not be reached for comment. This reporter then asked dead reporter Mordecai "Three Finger" Brown to get a quote from Edward, but Edward did not respond, and only pissed himself.
Meanwhile, Sen. John Edwards was firm in his insistence he was not the John Edward that talks to the dead.
"Of course I don't talk to the dead. I've never even heard of that John Edward. But if he is an American, I will do my best to represent him just as I will represent all other Americans when I am president. I have served North Carolina faithfully during my time in office, and I will serve the country just as well. All I ask is for your vote."
Edwards' political rhetoric continued for at least thirty more minutes, then this reporter left for a sandwich.
Edwards' decision to run for the Democratic nomination for president follows the announcement by former Vice-President Al Gore that he will not run in 2004, citing happiness with his new beard. Edwards enters the race against Jay Leno-lookalike Sen. John Kerry of Massachusetts, as well as potential candidates Sen. Tom "No, Seriously, I'm Running" Daschle and Sen. Dick "Last Name Never Looks Real" Gephardt.
Sen. Edwards told the press Friday his campaign would address key issues and attempt to overcome the Senator's disadvantages. Edwards campaign buttons were passed out with clarifying statements such as, "He's not the one that talks to dead people" and "The Senator, not the medium," as well as image-focused buttons with the Sci-Fi Channel's John Edward's face crossed out and Sen. John Edwards' face circled. Edwards' campaign manager Charles Manson (not the ritual murderer) unveiled a banner at campaign headquarters reading, "John Edwards for President. No, the other John Edwards."
Manson was optimistic about Edwards' chances, yet acknowledged there would be obstacles.
"Is it an uphill battle?" Manson asked, then answered before anyone else could. "Yes. Is it impossible? Not at all. Senator John Edwards is a dedicated and determined man, and he has set his sights on this and will pursue it as far as possible. I can give you my personal guarantee that, when the Senator is done, everyone in America will be convinced he is not the guy from the Crossing Over show. We have a three-pronged attack: Get his face out there, get his position as Senator in the public mind, and stress that he has never and likely never will communicate with the dead. By the time our campaign is over, the other John Edward will be known as 'the other John Edwards.'"
As for the Senators' hopes for winning a presidential race against George W. Bush?
"Oh," replied Manson. "We hadn't really thought that far ahead. Are you sure Bush can run in 2004? Won't his term limits expire by then or anything?" the commune news knows who it's voting for—Snipes. Seagal. Black House. Cast your vote for action this summer. Lil Duncan is the commune's White House correspondent and wouldn't mind a little presidential scandal with either John Edwards.
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 November 11, 2002
Giving Celebrity Shoplifters a Bad NameMonday, November 11, 2002 It's the way the stupid world works that the many are always being made to pay for the fuck-ups of the few. Like back when that dildo Jesus ate the apple and created Original Sin, that Angelina Jolie movie where she looks all fat. Thanks, Jesus. Then some dumb kid freaks out and tries to climb up inside a running lawnmower, and all of a sudden only the Indians get to eat peyote anymore. Like they never freak out and set the teepee on fire sometimes. Finally, to put the icing on the ice cream, some primadonna of a lab rabbit gets an eye blister so all of the rest of us miss out on a cute new mascara.
Sometimes this rule works in our favor, like when you get a college scholarship because your great step-grandma once slept with some Navajo guy, but usually it doesn't.
Case in point. Winona Ryder, of Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon fame, gets the bright idea to prop up her saggy-titted acting career by getting caught half-assedly shoplifting some cheap junk out in Beverly Hills. She thinks she's all clever, hiding it in her sacks from Saks, then all of a sudden all of us innocent celebrity shoplifters are taking the heat. What a crock. I didn't spend three weeks painstakingly smuggling a complete set of Martha Stewart Living silverware out of a K-mart piece by piece in my mouth to be compared to that talentless hack. Talentless at shoplifting, anyway, she may be a great film actress for all I know. But I wouldn't know, because I...
º Last Column: My Sims Still Feel Leashed º more columns
Monday, November 11, 2002 It's the way the stupid world works that the many are always being made to pay for the fuck-ups of the few. Like back when that dildo Jesus ate the apple and created Original Sin, that Angelina Jolie movie where she looks all fat. Thanks, Jesus. Then some dumb kid freaks out and tries to climb up inside a running lawnmower, and all of a sudden only the Indians get to eat peyote anymore. Like they never freak out and set the teepee on fire sometimes. Finally, to put the icing on the ice cream, some primadonna of a lab rabbit gets an eye blister so all of the rest of us miss out on a cute new mascara. Sometimes this rule works in our favor, like when you get a college scholarship because your great step-grandma once slept with some Navajo guy, but usually it doesn't. Case in point. Winona Ryder, of Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon fame, gets the bright idea to prop up her saggy-titted acting career by getting caught half-assedly shoplifting some cheap junk out in Beverly Hills. She thinks she's all clever, hiding it in her sacks from Saks, then all of a sudden all of us innocent celebrity shoplifters are taking the heat. What a crock. I didn't spend three weeks painstakingly smuggling a complete set of Martha Stewart Living silverware out of a K-mart piece by piece in my mouth to be compared to that talentless hack. Talentless at shoplifting, anyway, she may be a great film actress for all I know. But I wouldn't know, because I don't watch foreign films. Too much talking. By the way, her "I was rehearsing for a role" excuse is cute, but you can refer to the court transcripts of the trial for my underage hit-and-run accident back in '88 if you want to see how long it takes a jury to get tired of that line. It's something like fifteen minutes, tops. I was ten; I don't know what her excuse is. This all reminds me of back when celebrity drug use got a bad name just because Robert Downey Jr. proved to be a lightweight who couldn't hold his heroin. Like that surprised anyone. Hello? Did anyone see Less Than Zero? That movie was supposed to be about a baseball player, only they had to re-write it on the fly since Downey constantly looked like he'd just woke up dead. While we're on the subject, I thought I'd throw in some free shoplifting tips in case you don't fancy ending up on CourtTV looking like the lost member of the Addams Family. Just don't cheap out on me and say I never did anything for you when I call up and need a place to crash for a few months, okay? First off, it's probably best to avoid shoplifting really big stuff, like beach balls and six-foot stuffed animals, until you get good at it. Marcie McMillan, my co-star from the failed pilot for that underrated crime-fighting girls show Training Bras, was the master. She once shoplifted an entire aquarium, including fake rocks and a sump pump, out of a pet store while she was only wearing a bikini. I still don't know where she hid that thing. Come to think of it, I don't know what she wanted with an aquarium in the first place, but she was probably just trying to go down in Hollywood lore for something other than being in that Rob Lowe video. But you also don't want to try and shoplift anything too small, either. Jewelry is tempting, but then there's a danger that you'll forget what you took and only find it when you clean out your purse months later while looking for a lighter. Also from my experience, I'd say that live fish are a poor choice as well. They'll suffocate if there's not enough air in your purse, so you need to either cut some holes ahead of time or get a wicker purse, or come to think of it, just don't try to lift fish. You'll never get that smell out, trust me. Marcie had the right idea with the aquarium, but overall I'd say the pet store is more trouble than it's worth for a celebrity shoplifter. The easiest things to steal are purses and hats, and really convincing Halloween masks. You just put them on and act like you wore them into the store. If they ask why your hat still has the tag on it, you say that you were going to return it once it went out of style, and look at them like they're stupid. If they don't understand the look, give them a helping hand by referring to them as "Hey, Stupid." Of course, now that Tinseltown skank Ryder has made it a lot harder for the rest of us, we'll probably have to come up with some new tricks. The next time I go into the May Co. with a giant empty duffel bag, I guarantee you I'll be getting some dirty looks. And this time, it won't be because they thought that was me freak dancing in the new Christina Aguilera video. Thanks a lot, bitch. º Last Column: My Sims Still Feel Leashedº more columns
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|  December 8, 2003
Pure Garbage"As Jerry Springer said when announcing he was about to have dinner with a loyal viewer, 'It's time to take out the trash.'"
Is there a real Tony Soprano? I'm just asking because my neighbor says he knows him. And I've seen the TV show before and I don't want to get on the bad side of this guy if my neighbor goes mouthing off to him like he threatened to. Either way I guess it's in my best interest to stop throwing the garbage into the hall.
Garbage men are like Winston Churchill: They get no respect. A bunch of guys whose job it is to ride around on the back of a truck. That's the only highlight of their day. Then they have to haul your messy garbage to the truck and dump it in the back. In some cases. In other cases, the truck can do all the work. They hire Transformers or something, I don't know, but sometimes I watch through the blinds and see the truck pull up and the garbage can is lifted up by robot arms and dumped in the back. I always wonder what happened to the garbage men. I guess the real question is, is it a friendly Transformer or one of the evil ones? Like the Tony Soprano thing, I don't care to find out.
Being a garbage man is the worst job in the world. That's what I told myself when I was working at Trojan as a condom taster, and I stand by it. Sure, I went home feeling weird at the end of a long shift and you can't really get the taste of banana-flavored rubber out of your mouth, but at least only my tongue was...
º Last Column: Eat the Dog º more columns
"As Jerry Springer said when announcing he was about to have dinner with a loyal viewer, 'It's time to take out the trash.'"
Is there a real Tony Soprano? I'm just asking because my neighbor says he knows him. And I've seen the TV show before and I don't want to get on the bad side of this guy if my neighbor goes mouthing off to him like he threatened to. Either way I guess it's in my best interest to stop throwing the garbage into the hall.
Garbage men are like Winston Churchill: They get no respect. A bunch of guys whose job it is to ride around on the back of a truck. That's the only highlight of their day. Then they have to haul your messy garbage to the truck and dump it in the back. In some cases. In other cases, the truck can do all the work. They hire Transformers or something, I don't know, but sometimes I watch through the blinds and see the truck pull up and the garbage can is lifted up by robot arms and dumped in the back. I always wonder what happened to the garbage men. I guess the real question is, is it a friendly Transformer or one of the evil ones? Like the Tony Soprano thing, I don't care to find out.
Being a garbage man is the worst job in the world. That's what I told myself when I was working at Trojan as a condom taster, and I stand by it. Sure, I went home feeling weird at the end of a long shift and you can't really get the taste of banana-flavored rubber out of your mouth, but at least only my tongue was worn out. With being a garbage man, that's probably a worse smell, and you have to move a lot. At least at the condom tasting job the other guy was the one doing all the moving.
What's even worse about being a garbage man, people always use you in negative examples. Some shithead kid doesn't do his homework and all of a sudden his mom is threatening to give your job to him. That mom better watch out. 'Cause if she's right and the kid becomes her garbage man one day, I bet she'll never get any furniture or boxes taken away. And the kid will be lapping it up. "I'm sorry, ma'am, that refrigerator box isn't officially in the dumpster, so we're not allowed to take it. Fuck you, mom. You should have shelled out the money for a tutor if you wanted your boxes picked up."
I wonder if you can even pick up garbage on your own home route, or if they assign you to some other route on purpose. Like it's a conflict of interest or something. Like a doctor can't operate on her own son. The garbage manager stops the guy as he's on the way out the door, all like, "I'm assigning you another route, Bill. You're too close to this case." That would be pretty cool, I guess. The other highlight of the job. Then you're right up in the ranks with doctors and lawyers. Because if your mom comes into the Burger King and wants a Whopper, you still have to wait on her. No matter how much she's making fun of you.
There's got to be some mobility in being a garbage man. Better routes or something. Like if you get in good with the boss or get a lot of letters of recommendation from people on your route, you can get reassigned to the rich people's routes or something. The kind of routes where people just throw out hundred dollar bills because they got dirty and shit. But then you probably couldn't even take them. Some kind of garbage collectors' code I don't know about. You see perfectly good sea food lying right on top, not even dirty, but you're bound by honor not to eat it. That's gotta suck.
There's so much I don't know. º Last Column: Eat the Dogº more columns
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Quote of the Day“It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that's completely impossible by the laws of physics and laughable to every sane person.”
-Mark TwaintFortune 500 CookieThis is the week you finally snap. All those years spent strengthening your middle finger and thumb are really going to pay off big-time, playa. Try keeping your dehydrated mashed potato flakes and your dandruff collection in different-colored boxes this week, just in case that last date ever comes back. Oh, that autobiography you wrote in l33t? Yeah dude, nobody can read that shit. This week's lucky porn cameos: Jenna Jameson in the pilot of that awesome new Hoarders spin-off, Whoreders, Big Bird in Larry Bird: Big Bird, The Ghost of John Holmes in everything else you watch because you burnt that shit into your plasma, dumbass, and …wait, Ron Jeremy in your wedding video? WTF?
Try again later.Top-Selling Porn Musicals| 1. | Oklahomo! | | 2. | The Wizard of Ass | | 3. | Chitty Chitty Gang Bang | | 4. | Bedknobs and Broomsticks | | 5. | Swingin' in the Rain | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 9/16/2002 Howdy Doody, America.
I'm sorry folks. That was just a pathetic attempt to sound upbeat. I should give you people more credit than that. We all know where we find ourselves, plum in the middle of the doggy-style days of autumn, a movie wasteland so barren that even the dead horses look bored. And that's no small challenge. Luckily for me, the less time people spend in theaters, the more time they spend writing letters to Ask Roland, except for the select few primates who actually try and write to me from inside the theater, so I end up with illegible butter-stained napkin letters crumpled in my mail box, covered in ants and other sundry vermin. I get less of those now, which is the one thing I like about the Fall. So let's delay no further and get to padding this...
Howdy Doody, America.
I'm sorry folks. That was just a pathetic attempt to sound upbeat. I should give you people more credit than that. We all know where we find ourselves, plum in the middle of the doggy-style days of autumn, a movie wasteland so barren that even the dead horses look bored. And that's no small challenge. Luckily for me, the less time people spend in theaters, the more time they spend writing letters to Ask Roland, except for the select few primates who actually try and write to me from inside the theater, so I end up with illegible butter-stained napkin letters crumpled in my mail box, covered in ants and other sundry vermin. I get less of those now, which is the one thing I like about the Fall. So let's delay no further and get to padding this column out like a Kate Moss swimsuit, shall we?
Q. Hey Roland, what's it hangin? Listen, I don't really have a movie question, but I was wondering if you could hook me up with that Violet Tiara chick who writes for the commune. She's hot! And smart! Does she dig dudes in the military? Cuz I could enlist, I'm pretty sure. Unless they've still got that rule about having to be able to touch your toes. Hey, that's my other question: Do they still have that rule? Thanks in advance Roland, we'll name our first kid after you.
Elmer DeBarge, Spankle, MO
A.Thanks for the letter Elmer, and it was smart to include a picture of yourself so I have something to show to the police. Though they are going to wonder why it has half of a People magazine What's Hot/Who's Not column printed on the back of it, and what you're doing with Heath Ledger's girlfriend. As for Ms. Tiara, I'm sorry to say she's too young for you, however old you are. Her parents are also super quick with a restraining order, which is silly since she's mostly a tease anyway. Or that's what I hear, from… people.
Q. Rooollaaaaand! Wasaaaaaaaap! Man, is that ever going to get old? I don't know, but I hope not. I love that joke. Love it! Anyway man, I got a question for you here. Uh… shit. Nope, I guess not. I had one when I started this but I totally spaced it when I was doing that "Wasaaaaaaap!" thing. Sorry dude, I'll get back to you.
Rodney Poster, Belmonte, CA
A. Believe it or not, these were the two best letters I received all week. You should have seen some of the stupid ones. Anyway, thanks for your letter, Rodney. Thanks a lot. Thanks for single-handedly making this the worst installment of Ask Roland ever. Good God, without your help I might have overestimated the future of humanity. Thankfully I am no longer in that danger, and I now realize that we're all screwed. Thanks again.
Alright, that's the movie bell a-ringin':
In Theaters
The Bang Your Sisters
Oh man, what a funny idea for a movie! No, wait, that's Animal House. What's this boiled old hobo boot doing up on my screen? The only way you're going to laugh during this tale of the most unfortunately named band in the history of rock is if you've just come straight from an actually funny movie and are still laughing when this one starts. Actually, to be honest, the movie had one big laugh in it. It came when this guy came back from the concession stand with his hands full of a giant soda and a big bag of popcorn, and when he went to sit down in the dark he kind of half sat on the arm of his seat, which caused him to panic and flail his arms up, dumping the whole bag of popcorn right on his head. Classic. Though I suspect that probably could have happened during any movie and therefore I wouldn't place too much credit for that laugh on the film itself.
Barbieshop
It's a great idea, I'll give them that. Line up a smooch on the ass for whoever dreamed this one up: a quartet of hard-nosed bone thugs inherit a doll store when their grandfather dies, and now they have to trade in their trash-talking street ways and spend their days explaining the difference between Malibu Barbie and Ventura County Barbie to spoiled little six year-old white girls from Riverside. Stick Chris Rock and Chris Tucker in the actor holes and you'd have 'em rolling in the isles, probably from laughing. Hell, stick Chris Katan and Chris Farley in a tanning booth for a few days and it could still work. So who do they get to star in this turkey? Ice Cube, Ice-T and Urkel. Good job, guys. Way to shoot the comedy goose in the head.
Igby Goes Down
Everybody's favorite Australian cartoon iguana is here to teach kids about sex and sexuality, the Aussie way! Though the animation is crude, it still gets the point across, and these guys know how to draw some sexy kangaroos. Or, as the Aussies call them, Wildebeests. While the film may be too disturbing for older viewers, kids will find it a delightful romp, in both meanings of that double-Nintendo. Delightfully fake Australian accents are provided by voice-over legends Susan Saranadan, Bill Pullman, and that guy who barfs when he eats.
Stealing Harvard
Heist movies don't have any sense of ambition these days. Everybody's got some master plan to steal a million kruktillion dollars so they can live out their golden years in some HEPA-filtered paradise where nobody speaks English. Bo-ring. When's the last time anybody ever tried to steal something really valuable, like Disneyland? Now that's a caper worth plotting for 45 minutes. How in the world would they pull that off? I'm hooked. I want to know, you know? Sign me up for a front-row seat and a box of Nards. Sadly, this heist flick doesn't quite get it right, but it's a novel effort. I'm not sure why somebody would get all hot and bothered about stealing a crusty old East Coast University, so there were some believability issues there. Maybe you could make a mint printing off phony diplomas and selling them on the Internet. I'm pretty sure that must have been what they were thinking. But I shouldn't have to work so hard to figure it out, that's the movie's job.
Trapped
Picture the scene. You find yourself stuck in some drafty country cottage with no telephone and no way out. You think you're alone, but then you turn and see… Courtney Love! Yikes! You spin around in the other direction, and it's… Charlize "Don't Call Me Ashley Judd" Theron! Shit! Could it get any worse? Yes, it could! Kevin Bacon's in the crapper! And he's wearing those awful jogging shorts that reveal far too much and turn you off of Bacon Bits for the rest of your life. Who's trapped with them? Here comes the twist: it's the audience. Yep, two hours with these undesirables may scar you for life, but they say it's really cathartic when you actually get to leave the theater.
And that's a wrap, folks. All right, go on, get out. Uncle Roland wants to be alone in the dark room for a while. Don't ring for dinner, I'm just going to be in the music room, playing one note on the piano over and over again. Now all I need is to find a music room somewhere.    |