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Giuliani Elected King of New YorkNovember 12, 2001 |
Washington, DC Junior Bacon Rudolph Giuliani, King of the Big Half-Bitten Apple n an upset to both Republican and Democratic candidates for the Mayor of New York City, former mayor Rudolph Giuliani was elected King For Life by write-in vote in the Nov. 6th mayoral elections.
"Nobody was expecting this," said Giuliani, serving out his final days in the mayoral position. "But the people have spoken. And I am proud to assume my divine birthright as King For Life of this beautiful city."
Giuliani is not only the first candidate to win entirely by write-in votes, he will serve as the first king in the traditionally-democratic United States city.
"Obviously this is a clear mandate for security over the traditional freedoms awarded American citizens," said Columbia University Professor of Political Science and future peasant Dr. Will G...
n an upset to both Republican and Democratic candidates for the Mayor of New York City, former mayor Rudolph Giuliani was elected King For Life by write-in vote in the Nov. 6th mayoral elections.
"Nobody was expecting this," said Giuliani, serving out his final days in the mayoral position. "But the people have spoken. And I am proud to assume my divine birthright as King For Life of this beautiful city."
Giuliani is not only the first candidate to win entirely by write-in votes, he will serve as the first king in the traditionally-democratic United States city.
"Obviously this is a clear mandate for security over the traditional freedoms awarded American citizens," said Columbia University Professor of Political Science and future peasant Dr. Will Grumbley. "Terrorist attacks have made us more wary of the open society we have in the United States, and how it allows subversive elements to move around unhindered. As a political science professor, I'm concerned about the effect this will have on the future of democracy as a whole. But as a New Yorker, I plead with the King to behead these scroundrels in our midst."
As a write-in candidate, Giuliani confesses he lacks a platform. But in the time since his election and last Friday's crowning ceremony, he has introduced plans to make the city safer for his people.
"As your new King, once I take the throne in January, I will decree walls surround the city, walls a hundred feet high!" Giuliani beckoned in a King's conference this afternoon. "Atop each corner of the wall will stand my image, cast in gold. No one will enter the kingdom without my knowledge. And no one will leave. Ever."
When questioned about cabinet positions and replacing current city officials, Giuliani stated all current government positions will be eliminated. Over the next few months those who serve the kingdom will be awarded plots of lands, suburbs, or Brooklyn. Titles will be handed out and special rankings declared by the King, though all will be subservient under his rule.
Changes will be plentiful and vast over the duration of his rule, Giuliani assured, including the knighting of certain constables and gathering hangmen for the many executions expected during the first few months. Giuliani could not say more as he was in a hurry to get his image painted for future gold coins to become the city's currency. the commune news is used to getting a lot more than this in a "Happy Meal." Lil Duncan was the queen of the ball in her day, and many a gentleman caller she had.
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 February 4, 2002
A Piper Bill for QuebecIf there's one thing Ned hates, it's dribbling baby eyeballs. Seemingly everywhere: in Ned's taco, spreadable on toast, and in the wheel-well of his car even! Cereal boxes so jam-packed that there's not even room for the cereal itself. Drooping out of his glove compartment, sloshing around in his underwear drawer, filling up his rain gauge like they was invited!
Who can Nedder blame for this plague of ocular proportions? Quebec? Yes, most likely so it is Quebec who is fallen asleep at the wheel. Long has Ned trusted them Canadians to keep his living space clear of such annoyances, and for another time they have let Ned down. First it was the day he found his deep-freezer to be full of crickets, a sure sign that Quebecans is slacking off on the job. Another time it was all the slimy basketballs in Ned's pool, and yet another the day he woke up with his sinus cavities packed full of rice crispies.
Long ago was the day the King of all Lands appointed them Quebecers the guardians of all things irregular and entrusted them with keepin' the world stable and whatnot. And more often than not, they've done their jobs. But today, Ned is calling them to the carpetbagger on their failure to keep things right.
But what does a boy do now? Does Neddle send them a bill for having all them drooping baby eyeballs flushed out of his radiator? Is Ned to expect a letter of apology for the Eye McMuffin him accidentally bit into this morning? What about the...
º Last Column: Flush it Down, Charlie Brown º more columns
If there's one thing Ned hates, it's dribbling baby eyeballs. Seemingly everywhere: in Ned's taco, spreadable on toast, and in the wheel-well of his car even! Cereal boxes so jam-packed that there's not even room for the cereal itself. Drooping out of his glove compartment, sloshing around in his underwear drawer, filling up his rain gauge like they was invited!
Who can Nedder blame for this plague of ocular proportions? Quebec? Yes, most likely so it is Quebec who is fallen asleep at the wheel. Long has Ned trusted them Canadians to keep his living space clear of such annoyances, and for another time they have let Ned down. First it was the day he found his deep-freezer to be full of crickets, a sure sign that Quebecans is slacking off on the job. Another time it was all the slimy basketballs in Ned's pool, and yet another the day he woke up with his sinus cavities packed full of rice crispies.
Long ago was the day the King of all Lands appointed them Quebecers the guardians of all things irregular and entrusted them with keepin' the world stable and whatnot. And more often than not, they've done their jobs. But today, Ned is calling them to the carpetbagger on their failure to keep things right.
But what does a boy do now? Does Neddle send them a bill for having all them drooping baby eyeballs flushed out of his radiator? Is Ned to expect a letter of apology for the Eye McMuffin him accidentally bit into this morning? What about the goopy, gelatinous eyeball muck currently clogging up his roof gutters? One is afraid to even address that issue, sure enough.
How about the time that Volkswagen pulled up in Ned's driveway and those thirteen identical Martin Shorts got out and insisted on staying as Ned's guests for a month? What with all their juggling and dirty joke-telling and whatnot. Who's to reimburse Nedder for that trauma of an emotional nature? And who's going to compensate the local pee-wee league football team who had their knickers dusted by the All-Martin-Short team in the championship game?
There's a smell on the wind and Ned's nose tells him it's the smell of Canadians. Time for them to get them maple-syrup-slurping bottoms on down here and pay the piper. He's been noodlin' on that pipe for a good four days straight now, and Ned sure as hell didn't hire him, and so is not likely to be too up in the teeth about paying him his owed due wages. Let me tell you.
So come on, folks of Quebec. Time to get with them programs! No more raining lobster bibs, no more child seats full of walrus meat, no more erector-set birthday bees. You know how them things is likely to happen and how they aint. No more celibate tuna policemens or nerf balls that come out the governor's mouth when he talks. No more deep-sea flute recitals or monsters bearing witness to the conversion of pope Archibald. No more, says Ned! Them shindiggeries has gone on long enough. º Last Column: Flush it Down, Charlie Brownº more columns
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|  November 15, 2004
Boris is TerminalHello commune. Boris is back and black, but not of the skin. This is mistake thinking because of Boris dirtiness. Is okay, happen all times that person think Boris black but not like in ACDC musics.
If reader remember from last column time, Boris is at airplane place port to save world from such bad pilots. Is Boris job to keep persons off plane who doesn't not know about flying so good. Thanks to super powers of Potato Boris, is now safe to sit in building and not look out for airplane coming so holy shits time to duck. Yay for safe!
After long searching in sky, Boris finally does find airport hiding on ground. So clever this place. Then Boris does take time to learn way around new crime-fighting office. Is important to know where is Cinnabon and where bathroom for taking grumpy. Hard part is that all good places for snack are in terminal part of air place port, not ticket room or baggage garage where Boris is locked. To get into terminal thing Boris must past test of security, where there is hard question riddles and magic machine to scan skeleton thing. Boris try this challenge few times and oh no, is not so good. Boris is stump with riddles and man says for Boris to get ticket to go on rides. But ticket person does not want special "Boris Owes You" money (BOY) and Boris does not have fast car to get free ticket from police. This is hard part of superhero life.
After few days Boris decide is time to tell truth, that is important...
º Last Column: Please Sing Secret Boris Song º more columns
Hello commune. Boris is back and black, but not of the skin. This is mistake thinking because of Boris dirtiness. Is okay, happen all times that person think Boris black but not like in ACDC musics.
If reader remember from last column time, Boris is at airplane place port to save world from such bad pilots. Is Boris job to keep persons off plane who doesn't not know about flying so good. Thanks to super powers of Potato Boris, is now safe to sit in building and not look out for airplane coming so holy shits time to duck. Yay for safe!
After long searching in sky, Boris finally does find airport hiding on ground. So clever this place. Then Boris does take time to learn way around new crime-fighting office. Is important to know where is Cinnabon and where bathroom for taking grumpy. Hard part is that all good places for snack are in terminal part of air place port, not ticket room or baggage garage where Boris is locked. To get into terminal thing Boris must past test of security, where there is hard question riddles and magic machine to scan skeleton thing. Boris try this challenge few times and oh no, is not so good. Boris is stump with riddles and man says for Boris to get ticket to go on rides. But ticket person does not want special "Boris Owes You" money (BOY) and Boris does not have fast car to get free ticket from police. This is hard part of superhero life.
After few days Boris decide is time to tell truth, that is important business for Boris to get terminal to save plane persons and building persons from not-good pilots who is fooled to think is good pilots, so Boris must use superpowers of Potato Beetle to stop these things and make persons safe for them to love Boris.This is good idea from Boris brain, because Boris story so confusing man lets to go through as long as Boris does promise not to come back. Yay for confusing Boris story!
Terminal is like magic hallway place with persons carrying baggage things like giant ants and are stores in case person changes mind about flying and does want to shop instead. So nice. But Boris cannot enjoy wonderful things, is on serious important mission to stop crime.
Good thing Boris does not waste time in beautiful magnet store, because right away Boris does see pilot so clumsy to drop hat when running to catch plane. This person no good to fly plane! Him is too clumsy like Boris for safe landings. Boris drive car one time and is no good at landing part, smashing up animal store and all animals do get out and have party. Oh no, this is so bad to have happen with big plane, could let out too many animals and whole city is crazy animal party. So Boris cannot let clumsy pilot crash plane because him is so busy looking for pretzel dropped on floor while flying. To prevent? This is job for Potato-Boris!
Potato-Boris does jump into fast action to tackle clumsy pilot person with running jump thing. This is so good, watching persons does yell oh shit. Boris stands up to say you are welcome for being safe to all airport persons, but before Boris can soak up appreciation, there is bad pilot's security guard friend there to have superfight. Too bad for him not to know of Potato-Boris powers.
Guard person does challenge Boris, and him has stick thing for hurting Boris, so is time for using superpower of dropping pants. Is not power for childrens to see, but is necessary sometime for stopping bad crimes.
Hold on, stop this thing. Boris must take a grumpy. Be back in five of the minutes. º Last Column: Please Sing Secret Boris Songº more columns
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Milestones1978: Griswald Dreck's landmark third grade report "George Washington: Star of the Negro Leagues" creates a fervor in the classroom, leading to the firing of third grade teacher Anais Brockmiller and a thorough review of the state's history textbooks.Now HiringEunuch. No job really, just sit around and answer questions about what it's like to be a eunuch. Maybe take a blow to the groin to no effect every once in a while to impress office visitors and guests. Talking in a Mickey Mouse voice might be kinda funny too.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | Desperate Housewives: This Decade's Max Headroom? | | 2. | On the Road With the Go West Reunion Tour | | 3. | Tits: One Man's Opinion | | 4. | Uncle Macho's Bathtub Tequila | | 5. | Critics' Corner: The Sailboat My Husband Painted | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Red Koopman 7/8/2002 The House Won't Let You OutThe sun dragged its lazy ass across the dewy morning grass. It was early in Popafohka Falls, the kind of early writers think everybody loves to hear described in tired old ways.
State Trooper Kemp DuhFarge drove up to the empty old Victorian House and stopped his car. It was a routine call, even if the house was supposed to be haunted, like all the kids in the neighborhood said, even that one kind of strange kid that seemed to be in touch with a dark indescribable force. But that kind of talk was for kids, and Kemp DuhFarge was a grown-up—a full-grown State Trooper with a gun and flashlight that were standard issue in this old fictional New England town.
Kemp knocked on the door, "shave and a haircut". He waited, but no one answered, so he naturally opened the...
The sun dragged its lazy ass across the dewy morning grass. It was early in Popafohka Falls, the kind of early writers think everybody loves to hear described in tired old ways.
State Trooper Kemp DuhFarge drove up to the empty old Victorian House and stopped his car. It was a routine call, even if the house was supposed to be haunted, like all the kids in the neighborhood said, even that one kind of strange kid that seemed to be in touch with a dark indescribable force. But that kind of talk was for kids, and Kemp DuhFarge was a grown-up—a full-grown State Trooper with a gun and flashlight that were standard issue in this old fictional New England town.
Kemp knocked on the door, "shave and a haircut". He waited, but no one answered, so he naturally opened the door and went inside without being invited. "Hello?" he called out, hearing no response in return. "Hello?" he repeated, without any further response. "Hello!" he demanded, but no greeting was issued.
"This is Kemp DuhFarge of the State Police. I found a dead man without a head a mile down the road and came to see if anyone here saw anything or might have been involved in some fashion. It made a lot of sense, but now I feel a bit awkward seeing as how I don't even know who lives here and have yet to hear a response. Listen to me, acting all weird and justifying myself to you—who the hell do you think you are? I don't have to answer your questions. It's police business. So do you know something or not?"
But there was no answer.
Suddenly, the door swung open swiftly and the last thing Kemp saw before falling backwards was the shine of silver on a well-sharpened ax blade. Terror!
Kemp went to draw his gun, but he would have been dead had the ax blade been wielded by an otherworldly creature who wanted to murder him. Instead the ax was held by the smallish weird boy described a little earlier. Kemp realized there was no danger, and the author realized he had blown his horror load quickly and allowed himself another 40 pages of creeping suspense before the monster had to appear.
"Boy, what are you doing here?" asked Kemp, taking the ax from the boy.
"Leave quickly. They know you're here," the boy said in a soft, boyish voice.
"You scared the hell out of me," Kemp stated matter-of-factly. The boy appeared frightened and white, even for a white boy. "What's the matter with you? You look like you seen a ghost."
The boy said something cryptic to the effect that maybe he possibly had, though I'm not exactly sure how to phrase it.
"A ghost?" repeated Kemp. "What horseshit."
The door suddenly slammed shut and locked itself. The windows locked themselves and the glass became unbreakable through mystical means. Kemp the State Trooper drew a deep breath and asked aloud who was there, who else was in the house with him and the boy, stupidly neglecting the information about the ghost he had just been exposed to.
"It's no use now," said the boy, running up the stairs for unclear reasons. "They know you're here. You can't leave!"
Kemp chased the boy upstairs, wishing he had shot him when he jumped out with the ax like that guy in the department who killed the kid with the toy gun. But he had disappeared. He was nowhere to be seen and Kemp was here, alone, trapped in the inescapable house with something I haven't quite defined the nature of.   |