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1/15/26   
A happiness enema
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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

13-Year-Old Goes First in National Spelling DraftJune 6, 2005
Santa Rosa, CA
Whit Pistol
Spelling maestro Angura Kashyap takes a little time out from the excitement of the National Spelling League draft to promote Huge Golden Goblet Sports Drink ™.
T
he world of professional spelling garnered national attention this week, as well as controversy, when under-age spelling wunderkind Anurag Kashyap went first in the National Spelling League draft to the Anaheim Syllables. Kashyap is the youngest wordsmith to ever skip college and high school to go straight to the pros.

Pro spelling has had to face criticism from those who claim the major leagues have gone after younger and younger wordsmiths ever since the formation of the National Spelling League in 1998. Detractors claim the NSL is luring away some of America's brightest young minds from academic careers that could help them in the non-spelling world.

Mere mortal Kashyap was selected from among 150 other stellar spellers for a lead position on Californi...Read more...


Zimmerman: "Jesus Christ, you act like this is the first time I've shot a black kid."

Howard Dean happy to be able to holler again

Hamburgler enters FBI 10 Most Wanted after record 400-burger heist

Memorial Day Celebrated With More Memorials in Iraq



July 22, 2002

Click for Biography

If Pigs Could Fly I'd Wear a Tin Sombrero

Hey commune folk. Stu here.

Thanks to a little bird who gave me the word I'm now officially up to speed on the whole situation. The Cubans, the whole acid rain deal, and the clandestine adventures of your friend and mine, Senior Swashbuckle. Some pretty wild shit if I do say so myself, and in case anyone's taking notes: I do. Now that I've got it all under control I feel comfortable sending you this. Yes! A human pancreas! Gross! No, but seriously, that was a joke, and if I really scared you then I think it's time to admit that you have absolutely no idea what a human pancreas really looks like. I think they have informational pamphlets down at the DMV that can help you with that. In actual actuality, I have sent you this column, at least in some loosey-goosey futuristic sense of the word "sent," you beamed it down or whatever from the intergalactic informational alcove where I had seen to it being stored. You know the score.

This is it, folks, the Stu Umbrage Show. What you see is what you get, and that includes more topless birds than the Tropicana and Charlie Sheen's house combined. So if you don't like it you can blame me, and also kiss my black ass while you're at it. On a side note, I was trying to get Diana Ross to be my column sidekick here, but it didn't work out because she had no idea who I was and also I use phrases like "kiss my black ass" far too often.

Sure, the idea of a sidekick for a humor column is a fairly...Read more...


º Last Column: Riboflavin Sounds Like a Brand of Edible Condoms
º more columns


November 24, 2003

Click for Biography

Don't Believe the Hype

Don't soil your couch or anything, but I've officially been banned from the Saturn dealership. Actually, technically I think I'm banned from all Saturn dealerships worldwide, but I don't believe for a second they're so organized I couldn't walk into a showroom in Iraq someplace with a fake beard and test out a car or make off with an armload of donuts if I wanted. At best I think the overseas dealerships have a vague description of me and some trademark sayings, but that shit's easy enough to fake. I've already got some hilarious platform shoes saved up and I've been itching to use that accent from Scarface for something for a while anyway, so I'd like to see those Iraqi bastards try to keep me out of one of their gay little toy cars.

Not that I was really sold on the idea of buying a Saturn, mind you. Where I'm from, that shit'll get you bitchslapped like you were carrying around a book. "Nice car, Oppenheimer." Right, like I need that noise. But the thing is, I was watching TV the other day, trying to find that channel with the temperature on it to see if it was cold outside, when I spied that ad about how Saturns are made out of some insane Klingon plastic where you can hit that shit with a golf club and the dent pops right out like superman's balls.

So right away the gears start turning and I'm thinking about the advantages to having a car made out of that stuff, gay little shitbox or not. Like what if that shit is bulletproof? Holy God...Read more...


º Last Column: They Don't Call it a Blood Drive for Nothing
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Quote of the Day
“There's more than one way to skin a cat. But only one reason: cat skin tacos.”

-Emil the Lonely Chef
Fortune 500 Cookie
You will become unbearably wealthy this week, and pen a beautifully-written suicide note. Donkey meat tastes just like chicken, but don't leave the hooves on unless you want your dinner guests seriously freaking out on you. This week's lucky swear words: fafuck, dickfish, shatly, bitcheese, cashit, cabbageass, shitch.


Try again later.
Top 5 commune Features This Week
1.Choosing the Most Out-of-Date Pictures for Your Personal Ad
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3.Toe Nails: America's Newest Tax Write-Off
4.Uncle Macho's Something Dead Stew
5.Salad Days: Three Days, 34 Trips Back to the Bar
Last IssueLast Issue’s Lead News Story

North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY Douglas Canterwick
9/16/2002
Gorzilla
Toucan Sam was a ham-eating son of a bitch. I'm not kidding, he could put it away like he was trying to sneak a pig through customs in lunchmeat form. It would make you sick just to watch this ham hound operate. This guy's bedroom smelled like a fuckin' Hormel factory, and that was just the bedroom. Nobody liked him, not even in a "he's a sick bastard, but what a character" kind of way, but few would argue that he wasn't the best plastic explosives man this side of Mozambique. True, few would argue that he was, but this was generally a pretty passive group who didn't like to rock the boat too much in either direction.

What they were, however, was experts. Were experts. Was. Is. Are still. If you needed an elite group to travel deep into the jungles of Vietnam to track down...Read more...

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