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January 19, 2004 |
Des Moines, IA Whit Pistol Dozens of potential Iowa voters show up, excited to see a candidate not Bush, but still a little disappointed to find Sen. John Edwards (SC). n what most are calling an incredibly tight no-way race, as in "no way are any of these guys going to be president," all Democratic candidates are finding themselves beaten in Iowa Democratic Caucus polls by a write-in vote for the candidate known as only "Not Bush."
Though vagaries in the caucus system make polling unreliable, the most reliable polls show clearly the "Not Bush" candidate leading the way far ahead of the pack of current Democrats. Representatives of the Iowa caucus said they spent three days searching for the lead candidate before realizing it was not an actual person, merely a vote rejecting a supposed actual person.
Early poll results show the runner-up position still being a no-way battle between national frontrunner Howard Dean, Sen. Dick Ge...
n what most are calling an incredibly tight no-way race, as in "no way are any of these guys going to be president," all Democratic candidates are finding themselves beaten in Iowa Democratic Caucus polls by a write-in vote for the candidate known as only "Not Bush."
Though vagaries in the caucus system make polling unreliable, the most reliable polls show clearly the "Not Bush" candidate leading the way far ahead of the pack of current Democrats. Representatives of the Iowa caucus said they spent three days searching for the lead candidate before realizing it was not an actual person, merely a vote rejecting a supposed actual person.
Early poll results show the runner-up position still being a no-way battle between national frontrunner Howard Dean, Sen. Dick Gephardt, Sen. John Kerry, Sen. John Edwards, or possibly another person altogether. With all four candidates concentrating their attention on winning over undecided Iowa voters, Dean and Gephardt pulled their negative ads to focus on a more positive way to say the other candidates suck, while Kerry and Edwards both inched forward in the polls, oblivious to the fact there's no way either would ever be elected president. Running behind those four Democrats were Gen. Wesley Clark, Sen. Joe Lieberman, Sen. Carol Mosley Braun (who pulled out of the race earlier in the week), Sen. Bob Graham (who pulled out of the race months ago), a candidate known as "Not Sharpton," Al Gore (who isn't even running), Al Sharpton, and finally, Dennis Kucinich.
Iowa caucus expert Henry "Iowa" Jones felt the numbers would be representative of Iowa's opinion of the Democratic candidates, and expressed a national dissatisfaction with its political choices.
"The American people have fervently and decidedly said they do not want George Bush for their president, if these polls are any indication," said Jones. "However, we rolled out candidates that we here in Iowa would call, 'real dillies.' You can sort of see the American people collectively wincing and asking, 'Okay. Are these my only choices?'"
Jones further elaborated, when asked to fill column space. "It's quite a simple quandary. In layman's terms, the American people are hungry, but nothing we've suggested sounds good. They're not quite sure what they exactly want, but it's very likely not anything we've offered. Like saying, 'Seafood? Italian? Mexican?' And the American people are starting to think they'd rather just stay in and crack open a bag of chips, politically speaking."
However, though the news is good for no one, it's not bad for everyone. In particular, little-known independent presidential candidate Lyle Woodman stands to benefit greatly if the polls truly show how people will cast their votes in the national elections. At least, Woodman will benefit once he finishes the legal process of changing his name to "Not Bush" in October, 2004.
"I had a feeling 'Not Bush' would be a name with a lot of political weight back when I was watching the 2000 presidential election," said Woodman, tentatively referring to himself as Not. "In fact, if I remember correctly, Not Bush won in a very, very close race against the Republican candidate, Not Gore." the commune news is tired of handing out our reader's choice awards every year to our most popular columnist, None of the Above. Especially since we actually have a Hungarian Nunnuv Theobove, on staff as consultant. Raoul Dunkin is Not a Total Douchebag, at least that's the title we're reserving for him for this year's Opposite Day.
 | Future job growth predicted in nursing, home care, grave-digging
NAMBLA threatens to sue P2P child porn file sharers
NASA: Plutonium space rockets should make awesome explosions
Terrorists been quiet lately… too quiet
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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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 October 28, 2002
Those Guys From Cribs Were Just Casing My PenthouseI could not be more outraged if I found out the country of Paraguay was needling my sister. Everything in my penthouse apartment is gone, everything. The switchblade toothbrush, the hydro-powered vacuum cleaner, the lithograph of the Zapruder film still. All of it gone, all because I was too trusting. Because I thought I was hip and "with it," because I thought I could reach the young people.
Well, fuck the young people. I want my stuff back. Those guys from M-TV's Cribs were just lousy thieves. Came in, shot a few hours of footage of my penthouse apartment, left, came back in the night and made off with everything. Even the roast beast. I'm starting to think they weren't really from M-TV at all, too.
It started off innocently enough. I had just finished paying off my bookie and had to make another large withdrawal when I realized I had not yet paid the "cleaner" for solving my problem with former commune Office Manager Phil Lampost. I had just emerged from the bank again, counting the thousands of dollars I had withdrawn, when the "talent scouts" for M-TV's Cribs came up to me. I thought them common hoodlums, but they recognized me right away and said they loved my work—although, it occurs to me right now they couldn't place my name.
They told me their predicament, that they had to film an episode of Cribs for M-TV right away and their guest for the episode, comedian Paul Rodriguez, had dropped out on them at...
º Last Column: The Music Industry Should Eat My Balls º more columns
I could not be more outraged if I found out the country of Paraguay was needling my sister. Everything in my penthouse apartment is gone, everything. The switchblade toothbrush, the hydro-powered vacuum cleaner, the lithograph of the Zapruder film still. All of it gone, all because I was too trusting. Because I thought I was hip and "with it," because I thought I could reach the young people.
Well, fuck the young people. I want my stuff back. Those guys from M-TV's Cribs were just lousy thieves. Came in, shot a few hours of footage of my penthouse apartment, left, came back in the night and made off with everything. Even the roast beast. I'm starting to think they weren't really from M-TV at all, too.
It started off innocently enough. I had just finished paying off my bookie and had to make another large withdrawal when I realized I had not yet paid the "cleaner" for solving my problem with former commune Office Manager Phil Lampost. I had just emerged from the bank again, counting the thousands of dollars I had withdrawn, when the "talent scouts" for M-TV's Cribs came up to me. I thought them common hoodlums, but they recognized me right away and said they loved my work—although, it occurs to me right now they couldn't place my name.
They told me their predicament, that they had to film an episode of Cribs for M-TV right away and their guest for the episode, comedian Paul Rodriguez, had dropped out on them at the last minute. Once I checked a TV Guide at the local newsstand to verify such a show called Cribs exists (I'm no dummy), I told them it was okay to use my crib for their latest episode. They assured me the young people would be trippin' to have me on M-TV.
It was luck that they had the camera (a Hi-8, and five tapes) with them, so we were off right away. I opened my doors and my fridge to these frauds, and I must say they drank some very expensive foreign beer known as Dos Equis. Hours of footage shot, and perhaps I should have suspected something by the extra attention they paid to the locks and security systems, but I had no idea, I've never seen Cribs before and the young people get into all sorts of weird fads. When they left, I thought I had done a little to bridge the generation gap and reach the future of America. Failing all else I hope these thugs at least have enough facts to know the truth about the Apollo 13 mission.
The fact that they made off with everything I own and, again, drank some pricey foreign beer doesn't bother me all that much. Alright, it bothers me. It bothers me more than you'll ever know. But what really bothers me is the subterfuge and the dishonesty. Perhaps if they had come up to me, forward and honest, and asked for everything I own I might have… no, that wouldn't have worked. I have to admit they at least knew what would work effectively.
No question, I've once again been played like a two dollar fiddle by some sort of fiddle-musician. Just when you think you're as suspicious and distrusting as a soul can get, you learn it's still not quite enough to keep your entire penthouse from being stripped to the bone. I can replace the furniture; it just means cutting salaries all around and selling some of those new-fangled computers I got for the reporters. But I'll never be able to replace the trust, unless there's some place you know that does that invasive sort of procedure.
Fortunately, I have my memories of this deception. And their descriptions. Now, if you don't mind, I have another visit scheduled with my "cleaner" friend. º Last Column: The Music Industry Should Eat My Ballsº more columns
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|  January 20, 2003
The Big Clarissa Coleman ComebackOh, jiminy! Thanks for whatever good thoughts you sent me, folks! And if you didn't, I wish you all a long burning eternity in hell. Somebody must have been on my side because I got the part! Yippie! Perhaps you couldn't read it in this small, mocking font.
I GOT THE PART!!! I GOT THE PART!!! I GOT THE PART!!!
Just to verify, in case you just read that part and think you accidentally went to Rok Finger's column on some spiel about penile implants, the part I got was of Shelly, the resourceful and somewhat ingenious desert island castaway on the new action show Archipelago Law.
None of it should come as much of a surprise, seeing as how I mentioned I had the audition and felt pretty good about it last go-round. Of course I didn't mention the show title—what, like I'm going to advertise to a bunch of wanna-bes the location of the next big audition? Forget it, I like keeping the competition reasonable. But let's just say once I gave them my Bilbo Baggins monologue from The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings, there really wasn't any competition. Producer Matt Viggoschultz had a feeling that I was the one for the job, he wasn't disappointed by my performance, or not significantly disappointed anyway; a little disappointment is normal.
I've met some of the other actors already and they are extremely talented, a great bunch to work with. Sure, there are a few of them I'll have to whip into shape, give them...
º Last Column: The Audition º more columns
Oh, jiminy! Thanks for whatever good thoughts you sent me, folks! And if you didn't, I wish you all a long burning eternity in hell. Somebody must have been on my side because I got the part! Yippie! Perhaps you couldn't read it in this small, mocking font.
I GOT THE PART!!! I GOT THE PART!!! I GOT THE PART!!!
Just to verify, in case you just read that part and think you accidentally went to Rok Finger's column on some spiel about penile implants, the part I got was of Shelly, the resourceful and somewhat ingenious desert island castaway on the new action show Archipelago Law.
None of it should come as much of a surprise, seeing as how I mentioned I had the audition and felt pretty good about it last go-round. Of course I didn't mention the show title—what, like I'm going to advertise to a bunch of wanna-bes the location of the next big audition? Forget it, I like keeping the competition reasonable. But let's just say once I gave them my Bilbo Baggins monologue from The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings, there really wasn't any competition. Producer Matt Viggoschultz had a feeling that I was the one for the job, he wasn't disappointed by my performance, or not significantly disappointed anyway; a little disappointment is normal.
I've met some of the other actors already and they are extremely talented, a great bunch to work with. Sure, there are a few of them I'll have to whip into shape, give them some quick lessons in the entertainment biz I've picked up over the years the hard way, but I can see them being around for years. Especially with infomercials going stronger than ever.
I'm not normally drawn to drama, I've been a natural for comedy since I was 6, but I was intrigued by the challenge, as well as the prospect of getting paid for work. Between the exotic locale—Vancouver—and the great writing, not to mention the sexy costumes, it's a can't-miss show. Not like my can-and-will-miss shows over the years like Cat Cop and That 1870's Show.
This show is banking in no small part on my talent, I can tell you that. The main star is John Flomp as Sheriff Burger, but the next biggest character after THAT… well, it's Nuge, the Kooshkoosh Tribal Leader; but after THAT, it's Kiko, the Bendari Tribal Leader. Then it's Dr. Cope, the medicine person, then the inventor Professor Hannibal, the sexy lawyer Vicki Scarlet, then the twins, then the nameless, mysterious mute character, but after THAT, it's all Clarissa Coleman.
And I got a fantastic contract when my agent negotiated for the role—say what you will about Dusty, or read some of my past columns and let all that stuff stand, but he's a shark underneath that very frail, fragile exterior. I didn't get any more money, really, and points on merchandising or syndication rights were right out, but I did get an "and" before my name. And I'm listed last, folks—after the first credit there's no more important credit for a regular than "and Clarissa Coleman." Unless that's not your name, but your name is what I mean. Don't be stupid.
Yep, Hollywood has come back to me, begging and pleading, after all these years. I know I practically shit confidence, but in complete honesty there's always been some part of me, as I think is the case with most former child stars, that whispers the question, "What if you're a one-hit wonder?"
I can now say with utmost certainty: The world is about to see I'm a two-hit wonder. º Last Column: The Auditionº more columns
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Milestones1994: Omar Bricks arrested after setting a statue of the Virgin Mary ablaze atop the Ferris wheel at the State Fair. Gets off on a technicality that goes down in legal history as the Proud Mary defenseNow HiringFlamenco Dancer. Leggy Latin beauty needed to, well, you know. And dance. Must be disease-free and light on the orthodontia. Garden hose-based qualifications a big plus. Mus- wait. Really? Then what the hell's flamenco?Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | The World’s Rustiest Chastity Belt | | 2. | Pictures of My Grandchildren in Their Underwear | | 3. | Uncle Macho’s Stiff Summer Sausage | | 4. | How Pornography Works in Your Community | | 5. | Video Game Reviews: The Sims: Paternity Suit | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 1/7/2002 Hello hello, America and welcome to a very special Entertainment Police with which to ring in the New Year! The time has come for the first ever "Ask Roland Special Edition," and if that doesn't put exciting lumps in your oatmeal, I don't know what will. As I'm sure you all know, your old friend Roland gets all kinds of letters, faxes and emails here at the commune and under the windshield wipers of my car and I do my best to answer them in the semi-regular feature that you've come to know and love as… "Ask Roland!" But sometimes due to space considerations, I just can't get to every last letter and they start to pile up around here. When that happens, I sort them into different piles based on the kind of question being asked and whether or not any naked pictures came in the...
Hello hello, America and welcome to a very special Entertainment Police with which to ring in the New Year! The time has come for the first ever "Ask Roland Special Edition," and if that doesn't put exciting lumps in your oatmeal, I don't know what will. As I'm sure you all know, your old friend Roland gets all kinds of letters, faxes and emails here at the commune and under the windshield wipers of my car and I do my best to answer them in the semi-regular feature that you've come to know and love as… "Ask Roland!" But sometimes due to space considerations, I just can't get to every last letter and they start to pile up around here. When that happens, I sort them into different piles based on the kind of question being asked and whether or not any naked pictures came in the envelope with the letter. Seeing as there's squat in the theaters right now that's interesting to write about, I figured this was a perfect time to address my biggest pile, which is all letters asking about famous Hollywood legends and rumors. So sit back, relax, and drink in the "Ask Roland Hollywood Legends Special Edition!"
Q. Yo, Roland, I was hangin' over at my buddy Steve's house and we were, like watching some TV and the Wizard of Oz comes on and Steve says to me, he says "Dude, you know if you play some Floyd or some shit while you're watching this movie, it'll like totally fuck up your life, right?" and I said no way Steve, and I pissed in his aquarium. But anyway, I asked this other dude down at the head shop about it and he says it's totally true, that if you watch the Wizard of Oz at the same time as you're playing Dark Side, you'll trip into some alternate dimension or some shit. No way! So what's the deal Roland, are they totally yanking my shank or what?
Chuck Meadley, Hangrow, Vermont
A. It's totally true, Chuck. Except your drug-addled friends seem to have mixed up a few basic details in that what you actually have to do is listen to Nick Drake's 1972 classic "Pink Moon" while you're watching The Wizard of Oz, preferably on Betamax. The album is like a perfect soundtrack to the film, even though you have to restart it four times during the course of the movie and there's no dialogue so you never know quite what the hell is going on. But you'll be shocked out of your socks when "Which Will" plays right when the wicked witch is shaking her broom at Dorothy and again when "Things Behind the Sun" plays during the scene when Dorothy gives the Wizard a knob-job behind that big fake sun prop.
Also, if you play the album backwards, while fast-forwarding through the film, a small elf will come out of your television set and give you a kiss on the nose. You heard it here first. And this isn't the only album-movie synchronicity that you should check out. Hip listeners have known for years that Elton John's "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" forms a perfect counterpoint to the 1980 classic "Herbie Goes Bananas," and some folks say "The Graduate" is pretty cool if you watch it while listening to some Simon & Garfunkel, too.
Q. Hey Roland, is it true that a bunch of hicks were watching "Twister" at the Drive-In when the Drive-In itself was hit by a tornado? Man, talk about your special effects!
Meryl Dunkle, Pitchwater, VA
A. Don't quit your day job, Meryl. This is another example of a true story that gets blown way out of proportion in the telling. What really happened was that some out-of-work fish-hook bender in Alabama was watching Twister on video in his trailer home when a tornado hit the trailer park, picked up his trailer, and dumped it right in front of the drive-thru of a nearby Rax. The guy didn't realize there'd been a tornado, even though a live pig was blown in his bedroom window and had sex with his sleeping wife. He just thought someone had built a Rax on his property, so he went nuts and shot a bunch of kids or something. Business as usual in Alabama, I'm afraid. So even though it would be really cool if your Drive-In story was true, Meryl, real life just isn't that strange.
Q. Roland. Is true Three Men Baby? Nastenk tell dead boy of movie. In window! Tell of apartment boy dead of shotgun. I do not of belief. You drunking, Nastenk! You get out from my window! Roland, you think? Is true?
Marfushka Khvylya, Bronx, New York
A. Well Marfushka, I'm going to run with the idea that you're asking about the infamous "Three Men and a Baby" suicide rumor, because otherwise I don't know what in the hell you're talking about. Ever since the video release of "Three Men and a Baby," people have been saying that they see the ghostly image of a boy with a shotgun standing in a window in the background of one of the apartment scenes. Rumor has it that the boy committed suicide with a shotgun in that very apartment, which was later rented by the studio for use in the film. Pretty creepy, huh? Even creepier is the true story!
In fact, the ghostly figure is not a boy at all, but rather the infamous suicidal munchkin who hanged himself on-camera during the filming of The Wizard of Oz. "Three Men and a Baby" wasn't filmed in a real apartment, but rather on a Hollywood soundstage, and one known to be haunted by the munchkin's ghost, no less. It's been known around Hollywood for years that the munchkin's ghost has been sneaking into dozens of films and hamming it up for the camera, appearing in the background of such diverse movies as "Breakin' 2," "Cannonball Run," and "Young Einstein." Creepier still is the fact that when you watch the Wizard of Oz while listening to Nick Drake's "Pink Moon," during the Tin Woodsman scene, the munchkin suicide coincides perfectly with Drake singing the line "I'm hung up on little things," no fooling!
Q. Greetings, Roland. I'm curious as to your take on the old Hollywood legend of James Dean's Death Car, and the rumors that several of the car's subsequent owners met with untimely ends as well, like in that one episode of Alf. Should we place any stock in these stories of "Little Bastard" and it's legacy of woe?
Sterling Bosnich, Santa Fe, New Mexico
A. Interesting question, Sterling. For years people seem to have been intoxicated by the lore surrounding James Dean's car. And although Dean himself considered his car to be cursed, the rumors that have surfaced in the years since his death have been totally unfounded. Few doubt that Dean's car was remarkable: a remarkable piece of shit. Many have understandably turned to the supernatural to explain the behavior of this rusted-out shitbox El Camino that wouldn't roll down a hill unless the parking brake was on. No one knows how great Dean's film legacy could have been if he'd had more reliable transportation. He was considered a shoe-in to play the starring role in "Gone with the Wind," but the car's air conditioner exploded on the way to the audition, spraying mosquito-egg infested water all over the interior of the car. When Dean pulled over to inspect the damage, the engine caught on fire and this shitty Herb Albert 8-track that he was only borrowing to appease a pushy buddy of his melted permanently into the radio. The knobs even melted solid but the radio continued to work, blasting Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass at full volume every time he started the car from then on. Even after this incident, the car continued to run, though just enough to piss Dean off and to keep him from buying a newer car. The windshield leaked, the entire front end was held on by a bungee cord, there was a spring that poked up through the driver's seat and the windshield wipers only worked when it was warm out, at which time they ran constantly and couldn't be turned off.
The car didn't earn the nickname "Little Bastard," however, until the night of Dean's infamous arrest when he ran over an aluminum can while driving behind a police car. Little Bastard, as if on cue, simultaneously lost it's muffler and the horn began to blare constantly, which it continued to do for two whole days until someone took an axe to the hood of the car in a police impound lot. Dean was arrested for embarrassing the police officers, who thought they had driven onto the railroad tracks and bailed out of their squad car in the middle of Hollywood Boulevard. However, remarkable as this car may have been, the rumors of its subsequent owners meeting with suspicious ends are untrue. After Dean owned the car, it was sold to a Puerto Rican man named Henry, and it spent the better part of the next two years up on blocks on his front lawn. Never able to get it to run, Henry opted to have the car towed away, only to have his plan foiled when the rear axle broke during the attempted towing. Henry later pushed the car off a cliff in desperation, but it got caught up in some trees halfway down the cliff face and Henry was arrested for endangering a nest of baby condors. No one is quite sure where the car went to after that, but the consensus is that wherever it is now, it's most likely pissing somebody off.
And that's a wrap! I hope it was informative, enlightening, and deadline-fulfilling for you, too. Be sure to check back in two more weeks for a return to your favorite movie, video and electronic game reviews, and keep those letters waltzing in!   |