| Loves That Woman ';
$dunkin='2005/0905/';
$dunkintitle='The New Anne Frank Diary';
$edit='2003/1222/';
$fanmail='2005/0516/';
$fanmailtitle='Volume 63';
$finger='2005/0905/';
$fingertitle='I’m Fresh Out of Haitian Cigarettes';
$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='2005/0905/';
$police='2005/0905/';
$polio='2005/0905/';
$poliotitle='Omarelief';
$rent='2005/0829/';
$renttitle='I’m Not that Big a Fan of Talking';
$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';
?> | 
Academy Fucks Up commune Oscar Pool Something AwfulApril 1, 2002 |
Hollywood, CA Junior Bacon Denzel & Halle: Thanks for the heads-up, Hollywood
A move trumpeted as ground-breaking and courageous by Academy publicists and people trying to sell newspapers nation-wide, the Academy was deftly able to both punish Russell Crowe for acting like an asshole (and for doing an action movie in 2000, making them look bad for giving him his 1999 The Insider Oscar that year), and open the door to give Tom Hanks another Oscar the next year there's an outstanding black actor in a leading role. Unless, of course, Robert DeNiro or Sean Penn get really sick and the Ac...
roving once and for all that you don't have to be white to win a token acting award, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences kissed it's own ass Sunday by awarding the Best Actor and Best Actress Oscars to known black people Denzel Washington and Halle Berry.
A move trumpeted as ground-breaking and courageous by Academy publicists and people trying to sell newspapers nation-wide, the Academy was deftly able to both punish Russell Crowe for acting like an asshole (and for doing an action movie in 2000, making them look bad for giving him his 1999 The Insider Oscar that year), and open the door to give Tom Hanks another Oscar the next year there's an outstanding black actor in a leading role. Unless, of course, Robert DeNiro or Sean Penn get really sick and the Academy has to hurry up and give them more awards before they die.
Washington received his Best Actor Oscar for his work in Malcolm X, which inconveniently came out ten years ago, in 1992, the year they gave Al Pacino the Best Actor Oscar for his work in The Godfather Part II, which came out in 1974. In 1974 the Best Actor Oscar went to Art Carney, because he likes puppies.
But the Academy is nothing if it's not just, at least on a 20-year scale, and the rest of the deserving 1974 field would get their kudos in time. Dustin Hoffman would go on to win his 1974 Lenny Oscar in 1979, while Jack Nicholson had to wait until 1983 to win his 1974 Oscar for Chinatown.
The developments in this year's awards have changed everything for black actors, and by that I mean Denzel and Morgan Freeman, who both now have a chance to be nominated again. Reaction on the street has been unanimous, with Americans from all walks of life joining together to say: "That's cool. But Training Day? I guess, whatever."
The reaction at the commune offices was much more passionate, as no one had counted on this being the Academy's year to pat itself on the back. As a result, the commune's annual Oscars office pool was won by Lil Duncan, who hadn't seen any of the nominated films and filled out her ballot with some help from an issue of People magazine. Ivan Nacutchacokov had the most to be upset about, as he had spent weeks developing a complex algorithm to determine the winners, but had left out the variable that among the front-runners, the blandest film always wins.
When Ron Howard was announced as the winner of the Best Director Oscar, Nacutchacokov laughed at first, then realized it wasn't a gag announcement and stormed off in a huff, requiring him to be tasered by security personnel. No one was entirely sure the tasering was completely necessary, but they weren't taking any chances since Ted Ted had thrown our original television set out the window in a rage during the ceremony's opening title sequence, and our TV set budget had been badly depleted during Australia's poor showing at the winter Olympics last month. the commune news. Great. Just fucking great. Red Bagel is the commune's aider and abeditor, and wants everyone to know he's seen Showgirls more times than any man alive.
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Two suicide bombers hit Israel with deadly 'Hamas sandwich'
Phone porn: Can you hear me now?
G8 conference attracts vanity license plate holders who like gates
Crude oil prices continue to fart in America's face
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Officials to Celebrities: Please Get Out of New Orleans isaster-relief officials in New Orleans made a stern announcement today to the thousands of celebrities descending upon the devastated city in hopes of providing humanitarian aid in exchange for career-boosting photo ops: We’re serious; you really need to leave now. “We’ve got to get these fucking celebrities out of New Orleans,” sighed an exasperated Lt. Mark Bolio of the Army’s 92nd Airborne. “They’re drinking up all our bottled water and bitching about the catering all day.” The influx of famous faces has weighed as a heavy burden on officials who have spent the last week scrambling to get everyone out of the city-shaped deathtrap. Receding water levels have exposed a nightmare world of toxic contamination, with nearly the entire city soaking in deadly levels of E. coli bacteria, lead, crude oil, PCBs, asbestos, leptospirosis, battery acid, herbicides, raw sewage, DDT, snakes, and according to at least one local, cooties. After busting a nut trying to remove the bulk of New Orleans’ stubbornly entrenched locals, many of whom refused to leave their pets or belongings, the Army was not prepared to deal with the celebrity occupation. Wisconsin Man Takes in Jazz Band he whole nation wants to do their part to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina, but a Madison, Wisconsin man is doing so much he makes all the other volunteers and charity donors look like dried puke. For Albert Pohl Martinson hasn’t merely taken in three or four family members or refugees from New Orleans: He’s taken in a whole jazz band. “I just wanted to do what I could,” Martinson told a deluge of fawning media standing on his front lawn. “So I said I would take in the first group of refugees I could. I sent them bus tickets and had them carted up here immediately. And then, being a good citizen, I called the local news to make sure they were informed.” However, Martinson didn’t stop and giving the 5-man combo all the food, shelter, and clean water they needed; he also bought them sparkling fresh instruments so they could take their mind off their troubles. Entwistle Pleads Not Guilty of Murder, Last Several Who Albums Condi Rice Hates the Way She Smiles in Pictures |
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 August 9, 2004
Omar Bricks' Day OffLong about this time every year, the days just get too nice to be wasted sitting around the commune offices, modifying my wrist rocket or flinging boomerangs out the window in the hope that they'll hook back into Raoul Dunkin's window for an Aussie Good Morning. When it gets this nice, it becomes imperative to take the day off, but not the kind of weak-assed "authorized" days off that normal chumps take. Nope, Monday I decided it was time for an Omar Bricks Day Off, the kind where everybody thinks you're still at work but you're actually far away, pushing a greased pig in through the back door of a titty bar somewhere.
Now, though it may sound like all fun and panicked strippers to the novice, an Omar Bricks Day Off is actually a complicated undertaking. If word got to Bagel that I was going to fuck off for the day I'd be in some serious shit, because he'd definitely want to tag along and there's no way I was going to have that big sack of weird following me around all day. I somehow ended up at a boat show with Bagel one time and that Zagnut actually tried to buy the convention center, so he could lock the doors and claim ownership of all the boats and people in attendance. How embarrassing. So needless to say, I needed to bust open a big can of covertness, and fast, unless I wanted to spend the day listening to Bagel talk about how he was suing the television show Method and Red for stealing his character.
At first I tried to set up a...
º Last Column: My So-Called Life Insurance
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Long about this time every year, the days just get too nice to be wasted sitting around the commune offices, modifying my wrist rocket or flinging boomerangs out the window in the hope that they'll hook back into Raoul Dunkin's window for an Aussie Good Morning. When it gets this nice, it becomes imperative to take the day off, but not the kind of weak-assed "authorized" days off that normal chumps take. Nope, Monday I decided it was time for an Omar Bricks Day Off, the kind where everybody thinks you're still at work but you're actually far away, pushing a greased pig in through the back door of a titty bar somewhere.
Now, though it may sound like all fun and panicked strippers to the novice, an Omar Bricks Day Off is actually a complicated undertaking. If word got to Bagel that I was going to fuck off for the day I'd be in some serious shit, because he'd definitely want to tag along and there's no way I was going to have that big sack of weird following me around all day. I somehow ended up at a boat show with Bagel one time and that Zagnut actually tried to buy the convention center, so he could lock the doors and claim ownership of all the boats and people in attendance. How embarrassing. So needless to say, I needed to bust open a big can of covertness, and fast, unless I wanted to spend the day listening to Bagel talk about how he was suing the television show Method and Red for stealing his character.
At first I tried to set up a mannequin at my desk, to fool people into thinking I was actually here but just really bored, but that idea quickly went over like a fat man in a hot air balloon. Every time I left my office to get more stealthing supplies, I came back to find that somebody had mistaken the mannequin for Raoul Dunkin and knocked its head off. After the third time I thought about trying to bolt the head on better, but with my luck somebody would set the damned thing on fire while I was gone, and then my ruse would be up and somebody else would have their whole day ruined when they found out Dunkin was still alive.
So instead I tethered a monkey to my desk and put a Jane Fonda workout tape in the VCR, which sadly was enough to convince most of the staff that I'd made it in to work for the day. It probably would have fooled Bagel too, except the ape went monkeyshit when the tape ended and it couldn't find the rewind button on the remote. I've heard conflicting accounts about the kind of mayhem that ensued, the only constant being that at some point, the monkey definitely ate Lil Duncan's brassiere.
So from what I hear, from that moment the hunt was on, with Bagel stopping at nothing convenient to find out where I'd gone and why I hadn't invited him. That's what I hear anyway, I was at the discus factory by that time, still under the impression that the goddamned monkey was doing his job.
At some point Bagel stopped by my house, jimmied the lock with the key that got melted in there during a hot-doorknob prank last year, and questioned Foghat as to my whereabouts. At which time Foghat passively resisted by pissing out an open window. Great dog.
From what I understand Bagel made his way to the uniform store from there, thinking that was a place I'd go, which was a plain stupid move on his part. I'd already been there earlier in the morning, and that trail was colder than a passed-out hooker on a winter morning. By then I was borrowing Bob Dylan's Jesus jacket from the Hard Rock Café on the other side of town, a move Bagel wouldn't intuit until hours later, when he caught wind of that afternoon's surprise Dylan concert in the park.
I finally gave Bagel the shake later in the afternoon by listing the lost frames of the Zapruder film on eBay; I hear the bidding got up to a quarter-million before somebody realized I had just scanned in the negatives from my trip to the Ferrari museum. Sure, it screwed my eBay rating, but it got Bagel off my ass long enough for me to ride in the Black Power parade, and that was well worth a couple of death threats in my feedback listing.
Even though I never got to the Louvre as planned, the day still ranked as a stellar Bricks fuck-off, and convinced me that I should really do this kind of thing more often. The question is: Would every day be too often? There's only one way to find out.
Bricks off. º Last Column: My So-Called Life Insuranceº more columns
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|  March 27, 2006
Boris is SpiderHello reading you. Boris being here to tell you exciting story of adventures and foods does Boris eat. Yes yes yes, is event of year, true.
Boris enjoys time in New Olean, magic place of spicing things. All things here is spicing, food so hot does burn Boris bottom hole. Even water is spicing, special brown water does come in tiny cup for Thumbelina! So spicing for Boris, but magic fun.
Big new! Boris does find spider which is great thing is because so Boris can sing "BORIS IS SPIDER!" song to spider Boris does find. Is clear? Yes. Boris does find spider on bricks wall that is alone because building does go somewheres else. Spider is here, like: Here I am climbing building, and now is just wall. What is this? So Boris will take him in pocket to many places of tour!
Looking spider, there is busting sewerge line thing that does shoot funny smell water high in air like olden faithful thing. And over there, there is house that is now house for shrimp boat does fall out of sky. Look—you are not looking, spider! Don't not worry, Boris will get for you spider snacks after tour is over, but now must pays attention to all destroying crap on Boris tour of this magics place.
This, spider, is building which inside is car magnet, attracting all cars from neighborhood and now buildings is like Christmas tree with car hornaments. Yay for Christmas!
Is timing to hide, spider! Here is coming team from "Hide and Seek for Boris" game!...
º Last Column: New Olean is Made for Boris
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Hello reading you. Boris being here to tell you exciting story of adventures and foods does Boris eat. Yes yes yes, is event of year, true. Boris enjoys time in New Olean, magic place of spicing things. All things here is spicing, food so hot does burn Boris bottom hole. Even water is spicing, special brown water does come in tiny cup for Thumbelina! So spicing for Boris, but magic fun. Big new! Boris does find spider which is great thing is because so Boris can sing "BORIS IS SPIDER!" song to spider Boris does find. Is clear? Yes. Boris does find spider on bricks wall that is alone because building does go somewheres else. Spider is here, like: Here I am climbing building, and now is just wall. What is this? So Boris will take him in pocket to many places of tour! Looking spider, there is busting sewerge line thing that does shoot funny smell water high in air like olden faithful thing. And over there, there is house that is now house for shrimp boat does fall out of sky. Look—you are not looking, spider! Don't not worry, Boris will get for you spider snacks after tour is over, but now must pays attention to all destroying crap on Boris tour of this magics place. This, spider, is building which inside is car magnet, attracting all cars from neighborhood and now buildings is like Christmas tree with car hornaments. Yay for Christmas! Is timing to hide, spider! Here is coming team from "Hide and Seek for Boris" game! Boris doesn't not like this game so much, but team does love too much to quit. Shhhh. No spider squeaking. Boris spider does love Boris spider snacks. Like crumb from donut—favorite spider food. And to swims in coffee, another favorite spider thing. Spider also does love to go for ride on baseball Boris does find floating in street. Is like spider car with not seat belts. Sad thing though is that Boris spider does sleepwalks during nighttimes. So dangerous to wander aways and be stepped on by street moose or team from "Hide and Go Boris." So, for safe thing Boris must tie Spider to shoe with fishes line at nights. Is hard, yes, but spider is thanking Boris with bodies language. Funny part is persons on street does think Boris crazy nuts who talking to self, because for them not to see Boris is really talking to spider. Silly not looking in Boris pocket persons! For real, this is best thing happen to Boris in forever long time. Little spider friend does make all things good times. Yay for spider! And of course Boris does love th—oh shits, Boris does step on spider. Is end of stories. Goodnight. º Last Column: New Olean is Made for Borisº more columns
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Quote of the Day“No one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the people; except, of course, for those people who keep giving Tony Danza a TV series.”
-H.M. LincolnFortune 500 CookieOur deepest condolences for your loss—but cheer up, there will be another Powerball lottery before you know it. Taco Bell wasn't fucking with you about that protection money, as you'll find out this week. You were right: you should have weighted that body down better. Lucky feathers this week: Condor, goose, anything Elton John wore in the '70s.
Try again later.Top Replacements for Dead Dog| 1. | Dead Dog's Twin Brother | | 2. | Game Boy Advance | | 3. | Cheech Marin | | 4. | Old Throw Blanket That Smells Like Alpo | | 5. | Sound FX CD Vol. 16: Barkapalooza | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 12/23/2002 S'up, America? Roland McC here, bringing you the movie review love. Right, like you thought it was suddenly going to be Jules Verne or something. Not this week. This week, it's all about the pinnacle of the movie season, the two-week movie release orgy that comes at the end of every year. We take a look at the best of the best below, except for Chicago. I had a bad experience there once, so I'll be goddamned if I'm going to review their movie and give them free publicity. Everyone else, however, is on my good side. Drink in the glitz and have a Merry Christmas for me. On to the movies!
In Theaters
25th Hour
Another touching story of our educational system's failure to teach basic...
S'up, America? Roland McC here, bringing you the movie review love. Right, like you thought it was suddenly going to be Jules Verne or something. Not this week. This week, it's all about the pinnacle of the movie season, the two-week movie release orgy that comes at the end of every year. We take a look at the best of the best below, except for Chicago. I had a bad experience there once, so I'll be goddamned if I'm going to review their movie and give them free publicity. Everyone else, however, is on my good side. Drink in the glitz and have a Merry Christmas for me. On to the movies!
In Theaters
25th Hour
Another touching story of our educational system's failure to teach basic math and number-counting skills to America's youth. Ed Norton is at the top of his skinny-moron form as the nincomboob who is constantly being smacked around by his hefty sidekick Ralph (played in fine pre-heart-explosion form by Philip Dustin Hoffman) when he makes reservations for 13 o'clock lunch or enrages a prostitute by asking if he can get change back from a five. While at times the comedy outweighs the drama, like when Ed makes a bar bet that he can suck off an entire football team, and then finds out how many guys there are on a football team, the film's deeper moments resonate and touch on important issues for counters and can't-counters alike.
Catch Me if You Can
I won't lie and pretend that I've ever not wished that Leo DiCaprio would get waxed by a floor buffer at the airport and put us out of our moviegoing misery, it's pretty much been a constant mantra for me over the last several years. At least since Critters 3. God, he ruined that whole movie. And then Hollywood had to go and rub him all in our faces with that whole Titanic fiasco. That set off a chain of events that led to the trailer for The Beach being played before every movie shown in America for six years, which about drove me out of my own ass. But all that being said, I have to admit that he's perfectly cast as Lucky the Leprechaun in this latest arc of Stephen Spielberg's personal spiral down into weird-movies-with-sappy-endings land. You might as well pass out the Oscar now because Leo IS Lucky the Leprechaun and he WILL mess you up if you get too close to his Lucky Charms. People can drool all they want about James Cagney staying in character for six months to shoot The Grinch, leading to the ruin of his social life, but DiCaprio has spent his entire life in character for this role. And I'll never look at a box of freeze-dried sugar clods in quite the same way again.
Gays of New York
The amazing success of last year's Lords of the Ring has led to a resurgence of interest in gay cinema that this country hasn't seen since Tootsie. While most of the resulting films have been of questionable quality and authenticity, like Arnold Schwarzenegger's Gay of the Jackal and Rutger Hauer's Gay Motorcycle Gunfight, a few gems have snuck through. Marvin Scorcese's Gays of New York is a gripping and hard-hitting drama about the long-forgotten 1970's riots between New York gays who loved disco and those who thought disco was tacky. Some lessons of history may be hard to look at, but for that very reason they should never be forgotten.
Lords of the Ring: The Out-of-Towners
Look, I know they say they planned this thing as a trilogy all along, but I started to doubt that the second I heard the second installment would feature Steve Martin boxing Goldie Hawn. For one thing, neither of them is gay at all. At least Steve Martin isn't. He's straight as tube socks with the stripes across the top. I don't know about Goldie. You can never be totally sure with women, they can seem totally straight forever and then one day you turn on the TV and bam! They're making out with Madonna. But whichever way her wind blows, this was an amazingly poor sequel to one of the greatest gay boxing movies ever. It's like they took the name, slapped it on a movie they were already making, and pretended it had something to do with the original, like Blair Witch 2 or Richard III. There's a load of hype over this one already, but I can't help but think that audiences are going to be hoppin' mad when Goldie goes home with Kurt Russell at the end.
Max
Look, you can call the guy with the little Hitler mustache Max or Hans or whatever you like, but every American born before 1980 is still going to recognize that the movie's about Hitler. Might as well get it out there in the open, up on the marquee even, call your movie something like Hitler Had a Little Dick and you might even win a Golden Globe. Which isn't much, I know, but you can trade them in for half-off a shrimp dinner at Sizzler these days, and that's pretty sweet. Anyway, Cusack is good as the anal little frau-beater, but I think his innate likeability worked against him in this role… they really needed somebody like James Woods or O.J. Simpson to give the audience a proper target for flung popcorn and the shouting of misinformed German stereotypes. Personally, I would have liked to see Robin Williams tackle the role, that would have made for some good insane fun, but he's probably still getting death threats from Patch Adams so I understand why he was unavailable.
That's that, my lovely American pies. The creamy cream of the crop. All that's left is to soak up the movie glory and ride that high as long as nature will allow. But remember, don't hit the Thunderbird too hard in your post-holiday-movie-season depression, because there's always next year. It may seem far off now, a minute speck on a distant horizon, but trust me, it'll be here faster than you can say "I'm wasting my life." See you in the new year, friends and neighbors.   |
