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9/7/26   
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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

U.S. Expects Iraq to Settle Down for NBA Playoffs

April 19, 2004
Najaf, Iraq
Junior Bacon
Afro-loving renegade cleric Muqtada al-Sadr extols his followers on the virtues of the triangle offense
D
espite escalating violence across Iraq, US Marines remain confident that all will be well in the country once the NBA playoffs begin this week, distracting Iraqi insurgents from their anti-occupation agenda with dazzling basketball action. However, though the mesmerizing influence of fantastic NBA drama may likely sooth the current conflict, experts warn that new tensions could arise between the San Antonio Spurs-loving Iraqi populace and the largely Laker-friendly occupation forces.

The nation's Shiite majority is comprised overwhelmingly of San Antonio Spurs supporters, led by Muqtada al-Sadr, a Shiite rebel cleric and hardcore Spurs fan who is often photographed wearing a Tim Duncan jersey along with his traditional turban during basketball season. Experts are at a loss to ...Read more...


Anywhere: Respected leader of one religious group assassinated by opposition fanatic

Da Vinci Code Author Found Guilty of Inspiring National Treasure

Bush-chosen Afghan president accused of Bush-style election theft

Electronic dog nose finds crotches 30% faster



May 27, 2002

Click for Biography

Adventures in Dogsitting

My neighbor Mitch is away on a trip, and while he's out I've been watching his dogs, Benedict and Arnold. To tell you the truth, I didn't really want to, but he took care of Foghat while I was detained in Mexico a few years back, so I can't rightly tell him to jump up an elephant's ass the one time he asks me to do him a favor while he's in having his colon removed.

These dogs are a flaming, hemorrhoidal pain in the ass.

Benedict is, according to Mitch, an Australian Cattle Prod. I'm not sure if that's completely accurate. Nobody knows what the hell Arnold is, but he looks like what you'd end up with if you stapled bat ears onto a gigantic caterpillar. He's like a walking sausage with radar. Appropriately enough, he makes high-pitched squeaking sounds like a rubber pork chop every time anything happens. And I mean anything: car doors slamming outside, bacon grease catching on fire in the kitchen, the refrigerator turning on, foreign war, it doesn't matter.

I don't know what kind of social life Mitch has got, but I get the impression he doesn't exactly spend his spare time wolfing down speedballs in the Viper room. These dogs demand more attention than a live hand grenade. They watch your every move as if you might, at any moment, explode like a piñata and rain doggie treats all over the room. It's especially unnerving when you're in the bathroom.

I think Mitch may shower with these dogs. I'm not kidding, I'm pretty sure he...Read more...


º Last Column: Prohibition Here We Come
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September 5, 2005

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I'm Not that Big a Fan of Talking

I'm not that big a fan of talking. I don't know what the big deal is. It seems like it's basically impossible to find a girl to date who isn't constantly nagging you about that. "What do you want to eat? What are you thinking about? Why did you put my dog in that Ziplock bag?" I swear, if I wanted to be interviewed I'd show up at the airport with lit fuses sticking out of my shoes. I'm just trying to live my life here, not run around in some kind of non-stop monologue nightmare.

It's not just girls, either, there's all kinds of social situations where people just won't let you shut up. You go into a restaurant, and right away, somebody's asking you what you want. And even if you point politely at the menu they still won't leave you alone, they've got to ask for some kind of verbal confirmation. What are you, retarded? I pointed at the duck nuggets, didn't I? You think I'm the kind of person who silently points at food he doesn't want? Think again.

That's why I started eating at fast food places exclusively. It's way easier to gesture your way through a meal there since they've usually got the menu in big pictures over the cash registers. But some of those geniuses have a hard time following an imaginary line from your fingertip to the menu, everything's all "Oh, you want Big Mac?" Even at the Chinese place, weird as shit. And you wouldn't believe the trouble you can get into if you decide to make it easy for them and just reach over to press the cash...Read more...


º Last Column: A Martini for My Dead Homies
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Quote of the Day
“Speak when you are angry and you'll make the best speech you will ever regret. Speak when you are extremely angry and you'll really regret it—all stuttering and shit, like Porky Pig. And they'll just make fun of you. I know I would.”

-Ambruce Fierce
Fortune 500 Cookie
Stick it where the sun don't shine—that's the only way you'll be sure it glows in the dark. Does this look like medium rare to you? Take it back or there goes your tip. If you could ask God one question, don't make it, "Who farted?" Take a self-time out this week, but don't just waste it by yourself; extract the time itself from the timeline, so you can put it back wherever you want. Lucky legends this week: Sasquatch, the Jersey Devil, Abominable Snowman, and other Bigfoot rip-offs.


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

View Past Columns
BY Amstel Graves
5/13/2002
An American in Tijuana
He strolled through the courtyard of this small Mexican villa like the town was his own. He didn't really own it, not in the sense of actually holding property rights over every square foot of land in the town or anything, but really no one person can actually own a town, not really, so the fact that he didn't actually own the town shouldn't say anything about how much he felt at-home there, or how well he was loved by the townspeople.

As Sam Rothman strolled through the warm Mexican sunshine, he could faintly hear a band of mariachis (street musicians) playing in the town square up ahead. The spirited strains of La Cucaracha became clearer as Sam approached. It was his favorite song, and they always played it when they saw him.

"Yo burro es tambourine,...Read more...

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