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5/15/26   
The genius machine has no off-switch
Loves That Woman '; $dunkin='2005/0328/'; $dunkintitle='Highway to Hell'; $edit='2003/1222/'; $fanmail='2005/0516/'; $fanmailtitle='Volume 63'; $finger='2005/0822/'; $fingertitle='To Hell With This Desk'; $fortune='2002/020121/'; $goocher='2005/0711/'; $goochertitle='Gwar of the Worlds'; $hanes='2005/0704/'; $hanestitle='Pink is Not for Men'; $hartwig='2005/0606/'; $hartwigtitle='Parade'; $hooper='2005/0228/'; $hoopertitle='Vernon Hooper’s Fifth Syphilis'; $hurley='2005/0404/'; $hurleytitle='Time of Healing'; $kroeger='2005/0822/'; $kroegertitle='Charity Case'; $loser='2005/0822/'; $losertitle='Lost Leavings'; $ned='2003/0818/'; $nedtitle='Cyantology'; $pickle='2002/020513/'; $pickletitle='State of the Art'; $poet='2005/0704/'; $police='2005/0822/'; $polio='2005/0822/'; $poliotitle='WEASELS-B-GON'; $rent='2005/0829/'; $renttitle='For the Last Time Deidrebane, Those Aren’t the Feds'; $reynolds='2005/0425/'; $reynoldstitle='A Series of Unfortunate Evans'; $hartwig='2004/1206/'; $hartwigtitle='O Captain!'; $sickhead='2004/0419/'; $sickheadtitle='The Legendary Spot of Coco Hobari McSteve'; $ted='2005/0530/'; $tedtitle='The New War on Poverty'; $vanslyke='2005/0606/'; $vanslyketitle='Health Food is Full of Shit'; $zender='2005/0425/'; $zendertitle='The Sixth commune Enthusiasts Club Meeting'; ?>
homecommune Staff Biographiescommune news20,000 Seats Beneath the League with Stan AbernathieOr So You Thought with Red BagelBook RevoltBoris is Gay with Boris UtzovMy Friend Polio with Omar BricksMy Dearest Deidrebane with Carlisle P. ChesterfeldChild Star with Clarissa ColemanThe Best of Joel DickmanNo Shit? with Griswald DreckOne Sane Man with Raoul DunkinEditorial CartoonsFanmail from Some Flounders: Letters to the EditorGiving You the Finger with Rok FingerThe Hanes Identity with Mickey HanesSampson L. Hartwig RemembersShort ‘N’ Sweet with Stan HooperPoop of the Century with Ramrod HurleyAmerican Jesus with Mitch KroegerYou Can’t Win with Alamo CruiseFortune 500 Cookies with Mazie the ChickenManifestos of FunMe Chinese with Ned NedmillerSittin’ Around the Pickle Barrel with Shorty and JeterPoetry CoronerEntertainment Police: Movie and Television ReviewsThis Space for Rent: Guest ColumnistsGlass Ceiling Fan with Thelma ReynoldsClarise Sickhead’s Bedtime StoriesGoddammit! with Ted TedReflections of a Goocher with Stu UmbrageThe World Vs. Homer Vanslykecommune Club with Emil Zender

'Black Friday' Sales Slow; Black People BlamedNovember 28, 2005
Flatbush, NJ
Whit Pistol
African-American and Caucasian shoppers gathered at a local Best Buy to present negative media images, while our photographer did a little trainspotting before the shoot.
T
he nation's African-American community had to bear another injustice over the weekend as it was revealed the sales on their own personal super-saving shopping event, "Black Friday," were moderate at best. Undoubtedly, the responsibility for the lower-than-projected sales will fall squarely on the shoulders of the black community.

"Sales were not as high as initially expected," announced economical tool and white person spokesperson Neil Van Hurst of Columbia University's School of Business. "This is owed mostly to continuing downward spending trends in recent holiday seasons." And its all the fault of black people, Van Hurst all but said.

"Black Friday," as it was named to instigate a race war, is the day-after-Thanksgiving sales event where prices at cheap retail ou...Read more...


Disdain in Spain from insane pre-war weapons claims

Half of cancer deaths preventable, according to insufferable optimist

Fans hype X-Box 360 as better than whatever comes out next

Liam Neeson Totally Fucks Up Some Wolves For Your Entertainment



October 27, 2003

Click for Biography

Respect!

Good people, I'm experiencing the most unusual feeling of my entire life. You might call it respect. In fact, I believe that's what it is called, I've made a study of it over the years and I'm 99.9% sure. But it's new to me, and I must say, I like it.

No doubt you believe I've lived with respect every day of my life, but good people, in the interest of telling the truth, I have an admission: I've never been a well-respected man. I know I carry on loudly and speak with conviction like a man rolling in oodles of respect, but it's all been a charade. A big, gay-sounding charade. I've usually been the butt of other people's jokes and nothing but a big joke to those I know, all my life, and it's time I admitted it. Why now? Well, because now I'm getting respect, of course!

As many people will agree, joining the mob was the best thing that ever happened to me. I get 10% off on all my Amoco fill-ups and the organization pays for all my suits. And, it's a subtler difference to most, but people look at me in a new way wherever I go. Except for here at the commune or inside the confines of my own home. But on the way to work or home again, respect! R-E-S-P-E-C-T. You tell 'em, Aretha. I'm feeling you now.

I've always been one to live a humble life, though not by choice, of course. I never knew I had any alternatives. And until putting a hurtin' on Boguslaw Sadowski last week, I didn't. But my fresh new position as mob lieutenant has brought me...Read more...


º Last Column: A Shot to the Sweet Spot
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June 23, 2003

Click for Biography

Volume 45

Dear commune:

What’s the deal with my boyfriend? We’ve been together for three months now and he still hasn’t popped the question. I’ve been dropping hints left and right, but he just doesn’t seem to get it. I tore a page out of a wedding ring catalog, with my favorite ring circled, and slipped it into his bowhunting magazine, but he didn’t even notice. And whenever I say we should talk about our future, he says we should wait until all of the sinners have been harvested. I swear, between all his bowhunting and digging holes in the back yard, I’m not sure he’s even thinking about who we could get to cater the reception. Am I just missing the signs that he’s planning a fantastic romantic proposal, or do I need to give him an ultimatum?

Sincerely,
Confused in Connecticut


Dear Confused:

The only thing the commune loves more than a romantic ultimatum is a jailhouse wedding, so we say go for it! Most serial killers are afraid to commit, so be sure you catch him at the right time. Laying your cards on the table while he’s bathing in the blood of the vanquished or making a shish-ka-bob of eyeballs might just cause him to retreat into his emotional cave, or set him off on a tri-state killing spree, and then you won’t see him for weeks. Hit him up while he’s on a manic swing, maybe after he’s been reading about his exploits in the local paper. But act quick! Winning a man’s heart is all...
Read more...


º Last Column: Volume 44
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Quote of the Day
“Sometimes when we touch the honesty's too much. Okay, you want the truth? It's not the honesty. It's that really rough patch of skin you have. Have you ever been to a doctor for shingles?”

-Hildy Daniels
Fortune 500 Cookie
This Bud's for you; at least, that's what I'm telling the cops if they pull us over. You'll be horrified to learn that woman you've been ogling in that "Physical" video for years is mom. White man finally break treaty again, just like you been expecting all these years. Take the Rockford Files theme off your answering machine already, the joke was old in 1994.


Try again later.
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North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY Red Bagel
2/21/2005
A Fistful of Tannenbaum, Chapter 10: The World's Biggest Plane
Editor's Note: Jed Foster and frequent houseguest Paulette Standiford made the trip to N.O.R.T.O.N. to discover the Bomb of Ages, a bomb so big it could not be dropped on anybody via conventional planes. Then, just when the threat of characterization might have creeped in, they were captured by Foster's arch-nemesis Professor Hyman von Hufnagel, a German bastard. Incidentally, Paulette's name has been changed to Daisy Pantshappy, on the advice of the author's lawyers.

It was eight miles long, and plenty wide, a sheer black-skinned behemoth with a wingspan so big it passed through your state and probably your pen pal's, too. It was a plane—the world's biggest plane, and was made for the express purpose of dropping the world's biggest bomb. The plane was so big...Read more...

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