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Bush Adds Segway Scooters to "Axis of Evil"

June 23, 2003
Kennebunkport, ME
Assad the Unseen
President Bush taking a digger that had nothing to do with his “Axising” of the Segway Human Transporter
U
pon returning from his weekend vacation in Kennebunkport, Maine on Tuesday President Bush announced that the Segway Human Transporter, a motorized scooter popular among newsmagazines and eccentric billionaires, had been added to the “Axis of Evil” over the weekend. The “Axis of Evil,” a list of rogue nations designated by Bush in 2002 for future “liberation back to the stone age,” originally consisted of Iran, North Korea and Iraq. Cuba, Libya and Syria were later added to the list after an underattended Bush birthday celebration in July.

The list has taken on a broader tone in recent months, as the roll call of the president’s “Axis” enemies has been expanded to include the environment, ice cream headaches, the city of Toronto, STDs, gay bikers, ABC’s primetime l...Read more...



Joplin Tornado Not Named After Janis Joplin, Apparently They Don't Do That

Stocks Plunge- Wait, No, Stocks- Shit- Stocks Soar, Hold On- Stocks- Fuck

Attention-hungry China still whining about typhoon victims

Italian journalist rescued by elite force of plumbers wielding hammers



March 18, 2002

Click for Biography

Camp with Me, Only Separately

Good is the news and the news is good (as they say in the Philistines), I've got Friday off. That's right, all it took was a ball gag and three tubes of astroglide, and Joe Friday was crowing like a rooster. I- yeeeeeeeich- Uhm, yeah. So the camping is on.

It shall be a grand old time, where I shall commune with nature, and be blacklisted as a communist agitator, never to work in Hollywood again. I shall fish, and bird... and ferret. I shall canoe... and I shall car. I shall stand at the edge of the great woods, look in, and say: "I think something died in there. Yuck."

And just so you can win (or lose) your office betting pool over how I got the time off, thanks to Nootles not being here yet I mustered up the extreme courage (while I did mustard my sandwich) to call Bagel at home, to interrupt his vacationary reverie and to have him, after near seconds of deliberation, say unto me, pass on the immortal words that shall be carved in a goblet of pure gold to stand watch over the mantle place for future generations to come: "Yeah, sure."

It was a grueling battle, a hard-won victory that shall not be taken lightly, that shall stand for generations as a pure golden example of human potential in the face of unthinkable adversity, of personal triumph against sterilizing odds, and as my alibi for why I couldn't have possibly caused that blueberry stain on the rug. On a totally unrelated side note, blueberry cheesecake is very good.
Read more...


º Last Column: Welcome to the Machine
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October 1, 2001

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ROK FINGER'S DESK IS NOT PUBLIC PROPERTY

If there were only one message I could have emblazoned onto a tee-shirt that I would be required to wear from that day forward, like an albatross around the proverbial sailor's neck, it would be this: "ROK FINGER'S DESK IS NOT PUBLIC PROPERTY". I'm not exactly sure how this scenario might one day come to be, but for this and a thousand other contingencies Rok Finger is prepared.

This choice of messages would be a timely one, as the world is obviously in the dark on this subject. Countless times I have come into the office in the morning to find multiple staples gone missing from my stapler, alarmingly thinned rolls of Scotch tape, and once even a hoagie stain on my desk in the shape of South Dakota governor William J. Janklow. But the most gruesome violation was saved for today, when my defenses were lowered by a freak elevator mishap at the commune's West 194th Street offices.

I began this day, as many others, with a quick bath of mineral salts and baking soda. After a breakfast of frozen pot pies and coffee, and taking a few minutes to enter a submission in Swanson's "Ultimate Pot Pie Ingredients" mail-in contest, I drove to the commune's offices. Leaving my car with the gang of slouchers on the street who pass for parking valets these days, I steeled myself for another rigorous day of columnisting. I entered the elevator and reached up to depress the button for my floor, proud that thanks to the new lifts in my Floorsheims, I no longer needed...Read more...


º Last Column: CUIDADO: PISO MOJADO
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Milestones
1961: Cuban immigrant Lazlo Homales buries a small change purse in a remote section of upstate New York. Over 40 years later, commune reporter Ivan Nacutchacokov finds the purse with a metal detector, and—what the crap, two dollars?? Lousy poor immigrants!
Now Hiring
Hall Monitor. Duties include asking to see hall passes, looking like an authority figure and keeping the unpopular commune staff members out of the staff lounge. Good grades a plus.
Top 5 commune Features This Week
1.Heavy Petting: When Fat People Make Out
2.Review: Give 'Em Hell, Harry Houdini
3.Uncle Macho's Pure Stallion Dog Food
4.Six College Courses for Retards and Sorority Girls
5.Critics' Corner: Whatever Brad Pitt's in Sucks
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 Dr. Malcolm Zooter
5/31/2004
What If?
What if the sky revolves
around the earth,
like a player-piano roll
cranked by a troll
that looks disturbingly like former Nirvana drummer Dave Grohl?

What if pineapples were alive?
What if they are?
How do you feel about cracking open their spiny skulls
and feeding on their juicy, delicious yellow brains
now that you know?
I thought so.

What if Africa turned out not to be a place at all,
but merely a concept?
Have you been there?
I'd think carefully before I answered that
if I were wearing your ostrich-feathered hat.

What if blondes really have less fun
but lie about it to protect their reputation?
What do you think of your deceitful whores now,
gentlemen? Read more...

the commune publishes as the news happens.
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