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April 4, 2005 |
Messier, Idaho Sloe Lorenzo Alleged disaster perpetrator Bert Woodland, who includes among his array of cruel pranks an all-kazoo version of âStairway to Heaven.â or a third year in a row, a young Messier, Idaho, boy has continued to miss the point entirely concerning his April Foolâs Day pranks. The boyâs jests are described as âcruel and maliciousâ by Messier police and have resulted in the wrongful arrest of six individuals and the hospitalization of two with severe injuries.
Identified by a spiteful member of the police department as Messier Elementary sixth-grader Bert Woodland, the boy has perpetrated another spree of April Foolâs jokes this past Friday, unleashing more terror on a town that had hoped it had seen the last of unfunny, âjust plain meanâ practical jokes. Two of Fridayâs five harshest April Foolâs incidents have already been traced back to Woodland, and police believe they will eventually tie all ...
or a third year in a row, a young Messier, Idaho, boy has continued to miss the point entirely concerning his April Foolâs Day pranks. The boyâs jests are described as âcruel and maliciousâ by Messier police and have resulted in the wrongful arrest of six individuals and the hospitalization of two with severe injuries.
Identified by a spiteful member of the police department as Messier Elementary sixth-grader Bert Woodland, the boy has perpetrated another spree of April Foolâs jokes this past Friday, unleashing more terror on a town that had hoped it had seen the last of unfunny, âjust plain meanâ practical jokes. Two of Fridayâs five harshest April Foolâs incidents have already been traced back to Woodland, and police believe they will eventually tie all of the crimes back to the little prick.
Among the more destructive of Fridayâs pranks was the non-lethal firing of a handgun within a hospital emergency room, greasing the ladder of a local fire engine (resulting in the injury of a fireman at the scene of a blaze), and the mailing of a cowheart to the parents or a girl who had been missing for five months. Even the townspeople of Messier, Idaho, who claim to have really warped senses of humor agree thereâs funny and then thereâs just abusing people.
Police had similar run-ins with Woodlandâs unfunny assaults on the innocent on two previous April Foolâs Days, the most severe incident being last yearâs burying alive of Woodlandâs brother, Cory. While the parents refused to press charges against their own son, it did raise police awareness that the pranksterâs sense of humor was not getting better and earned him the universal designation of âsick fuckâ from everyone in Messier.
âThat little shit put a rattlesnake in my mailbox,â said elderly neighbor Huntz Vohlman. âNot a plastic one, a live rattlesnake. If I hadnât heard the sound it would have caught me when it lunged out to bite. Iâm telling you, thatâs not normal. I havenât been out of my house on the first of April for the last two years.â
Vohlmanâs fear was generally shared by everyone in Messier. Principal of Messier Elementary Arlene Fredericks cancelled school when all the teachers threatened not to come on the dreaded âA-Day,â petrified by Woodlandâs potential destruction.
Substitute teacher Martin Kohl: âLast year I showed up and didnât even know it was April Foolâs. But I found out soon enough. The kid tossed a quarter stick of dynamite at meânot a firecracker, you hear, but a real partial stick of dynamite. The doctors couldnât even reattach my right index finger. Whenâs someone going to explain humor to this kid?â
University of Idaho Child Psychologist Will Raymond studied Woodland last year following his second April Foolâs arrest.
âYoung Bert has obviously misinterpreted the spirit of the holiday,â said Raymond. âIn modern times, April the first is a day when we all try to lighten up a bit, stop taking ourselves so seriously, and make a game out of embarrassing our friends and neighborsâthose weâre fond of. Instead, Bert uses it as an excuse to lash out with his insidious wit and damage others, either emotionally or physically, or sometimes both. He is, I believe, a purely anti-social personality with just enough a sense of morality to need an excuseâlike April Foolâs Dayâto ignite his malicious behavior. At first I believed he had a rich history of emotional abuse which he concealed with his terror. Later on I found out he was just an asshole.â
Raymond declined an invitation to study the boy again, since after last yearâs visit Woodland posted his image on a website for registered sex offenders; Raymond also suspects the boyâs the reason heâs been getting amorous letters from the Idaho State Menâs Penitentiary. the commune news celebrated April Foolâs Day the way we always have: Raising our eyebrows and offering a sort of bored smile when someone makes an idiotic joke and tells us the date. Bludney Pludd is our favorite April Fool, all year âround.
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 September 12, 2005
Strictly for the Inner CircleSorry, kind readers, but I haven't the time to waste writing for you this week. I have managed to get back on track with the Biggest Conspiracy in the World (BCW, for you conspiracy fans) after losing my foot in the door so tragically this time. I speak metaphorically, of course, and my literal foot suffers nothing more than a dangly, unclipped toenail and a stark and pungent odor. But why am I wasting time like an unaccredited Dr. Scholl's? I have to catch up with all my new contacts, and my column is the quickest and safest way to do. But just in case someone is actually reading it, I'll do everything in the agreed-upon code for all my compatriots.
To the kind and stealthy Mr. Humphrey: It's all set for Tampon, right around Fluff-fifteen. Check the code book I gave you on how to translate those times. But I was lucky to get it set up, so don't go showing up at 4:30 or too early at 4:10. Thursdays are always hell in doctor's offices anyway. Oh, that's right, I forgot to tell you where it is! It's at Pigeon Michaels' office. Remember? Pigeon Michaels, the Ear, Nose and Throat Pigeon?
For Willie and Sanchez: I'll be there at midnight tonight, in the agreed-upon location. And I'll have my bass with me. That's not code. I will be bringing my bass, since my band is rehearsing shortly before the meeting.
Turnip, or Mrs. Turnip: Make sure you have the Glockenspiel properly lubricated. I don't want another rash on my sensitive parts because you...
º Last Column: Taking Back the commune º more columns
Sorry, kind readers, but I haven't the time to waste writing for you this week. I have managed to get back on track with the Biggest Conspiracy in the World (BCW, for you conspiracy fans) after losing my foot in the door so tragically this time. I speak metaphorically, of course, and my literal foot suffers nothing more than a dangly, unclipped toenail and a stark and pungent odor. But why am I wasting time like an unaccredited Dr. Scholl's? I have to catch up with all my new contacts, and my column is the quickest and safest way to do. But just in case someone is actually reading it, I'll do everything in the agreed-upon code for all my compatriots. To the kind and stealthy Mr. Humphrey: It's all set for Tampon, right around Fluff-fifteen. Check the code book I gave you on how to translate those times. But I was lucky to get it set up, so don't go showing up at 4:30 or too early at 4:10. Thursdays are always hell in doctor's offices anyway. Oh, that's right, I forgot to tell you where it is! It's at Pigeon Michaels' office. Remember? Pigeon Michaels, the Ear, Nose and Throat Pigeon? For Willie and Sanchez: I'll be there at midnight tonight, in the agreed-upon location. And I'll have my bass with me. That's not code. I will be bringing my bass, since my band is rehearsing shortly before the meeting. Turnip, or Mrs. Turnip: Make sure you have the Glockenspiel properly lubricated. I don't want another rash on my sensitive parts because you didn't do it right. Anthrog Baker, Esquire: The Cake did not rise. Repeat, the Cake did not rise. Cancel the party. Shaolin Henry: We're turning away all guests that don't know the Piper. If the Piper hasn't been paid, kick their ass to the curb. Forget them. Don't let them in if they got their hand stamped last night. It's a new night, a new Piper to be paid. Ronald McDonald and the Hamburgler: The paddies are hot. Don't touch them. I'm not responsible for what happens if you grab the paddies. Mrs. Turnip: I forgot to ask, can you show me how to bake a proper Cake? Ours didn't rise. It really sucks, because we had to cancel our party and everything. Fantasia Martin: If you must, you must. But watch out if the dog is outside. He's sitting in the water dish. Dickless and Assmunch: In regards to last week's queries, no, you can't have your nicknames changed. It serves you right for taking a smoke break while we were assigning names. Pedro: The border is wide open and fully unguarded. Come home, and come home quick. Bundles, a.k.a. Monsignor Bundles: Study the Rubicon. We have a schedule to keep, and every day those Chocolate Chips don't come in we lose another 5 million Cancers. Og the Hog: Call me sometime. Remember me? This is Red Bagel, from Kappa Delta. We need to catch up sometime. Franco and my Publisher Harold Mortensen: The book is finish and ready to be published. That's code for you, Franco. Normal talk for you, Harry. Omar Bricks: Get your dead fish out of my office. This is not code, but I can't stand the wait anymore. I've measured it and you're not anywhere near the world's record, even for clear water pond catches. Blanche: See what you can do about getting me a cell phone. I can't keep in touch with any of the gang. I've had to resort to using my column to keep up the conspiracy messages. Everyone else: Bugger off. I'll have more to say to you next time. º Last Column: Taking Back the communeº more columns
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|  June 10, 2002
The Gimp Has Claimed Quentin TarantinoO Director, Where Art Thou?
That's what semi-intelligent critics who love making minor alterations to famous titles or phrases should be asking. Nobody else seems curious as to what's happened to two-hit wonder Quentin Tarantino. The writer/director defined '90s pop-culture referencing in film with his fantastic works Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction. He also did Jackie Brown.
And then what happened, I ask? Like many others I actually have no clue, just extremely curious. The title "The Gimp Has Claimed Quentin Tarantino" is just a creative way of referencing his previous work and posing the topic, I actually don't know.
It does make you think, though. Alright, stop now.
Chances are something happened to Tarantino during the making of Jackie Brown, the making of his last unreleased feature, or one of his infamous verbal battles with Spike Lee. With all the guns and swords and backroom raping that goes on in a Tarantino film, it's entirely possible something awful destroyed him before his next film could be released. This must have happened sometime around 1997. Unless it perhaps happened earlier�
How do we know for sure Quentin Tarantino made Jackie Brown? In fact, how do we know for sure Tarantino did anything after Pulp Fiction? When he accepted the Oscar at the Academy Awards ceremony that year he seemed a little suspect to me. Not to mention all through that From...
º Last Column: The MCP Has Abducted My Office Manager º more columns
O Director, Where Art Thou? That's what semi-intelligent critics who love making minor alterations to famous titles or phrases should be asking. Nobody else seems curious as to what's happened to two-hit wonder Quentin Tarantino. The writer/director defined '90s pop-culture referencing in film with his fantastic works Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction. He also did Jackie Brown. And then what happened, I ask? Like many others I actually have no clue, just extremely curious. The title "The Gimp Has Claimed Quentin Tarantino" is just a creative way of referencing his previous work and posing the topic, I actually don't know. It does make you think, though. Alright, stop now. Chances are something happened to Tarantino during the making of Jackie Brown, the making of his last unreleased feature, or one of his infamous verbal battles with Spike Lee. With all the guns and swords and backroom raping that goes on in a Tarantino film, it's entirely possible something awful destroyed him before his next film could be released. This must have happened sometime around 1997. Unless it perhaps happened earlierâŚ? How do we know for sure Quentin Tarantino made Jackie Brown? In fact, how do we know for sure Tarantino did anything after Pulp Fiction? When he accepted the Oscar at the Academy Awards ceremony that year he seemed a little suspect to me. Not to mention all through that From Dusk Till Dawn film. I surmise maybe Tarantino never made it to either one of those events. Now's the part where you smugly doubt me, saying that Tarantino has been seeing numerous places since Pulp Fiction debuted. Listen, toad, I don't need to be reminded of facts I have exhaustively researched. Take that tone with me again you'll be reading this column with your eyes in your ass. Don't make me try to figure out that physical nightmare, just shut up already. Alright, I'm calmer now. The truth is, in theory, Quentin Tarantino, the talented writer/director, has been replaced with a lookalike. You might suspect an android replacementâI did at first, but the animations of most human beings are beyond current android technology, especially for the nervous manic animations of Tarantino. Delve into your collective sitcom psyche and ask yourself, if it's not a robot, not a future or past self (trust me on this one), and not another Tarantino from another universe, what is it? If you said "twin brother," you're right on the money. If you said "mask," please, you're wasting my time and yours with your bizarre fantasies. I'd bet dollars to dildos Quentin Tarantino's less popular, less talented brother has imprisoned or eliminated his brother and is parading around as him. This other brotherâlet's assume his name is Quincy since parents always name identical twins with an alliterative nameâlacks the technical film knowledge Tarantino himself, a former video store clerk, possesses, and therefore had ground to a halt any filmmaking Tarantino was in the midst of. He's riding around on Tarantino's kick-ass coattails, hobnobbing at all the parties and rubbing celebrity elbows and squawking like a chicken while his brother remains missing. Tarantino has become the victim in his own crime-drama, tied to a chair, ball-gagged, while some smarmy redneck hollers to bring out the gimp. We must find him and free him before the gimp is brought out. And when I say "we" I mean "you."ame wayâa little painful at first, not without some mis-steps, but ultimately for the better of everyone. º Last Column: The MCP Has Abducted My Office Managerº more columns
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Quote of the Day“To dream the impossible dream⌠to really step on my own bottom lip while being smacked on the ass by Gary Busey riding a unicycle. Yes, this is quite impossible.”
-Don Key HoytFortune 500 CookieRead a book today: It's like bran for your head. Hate music? Buy J-Lo's new album and really feed that feeling. You'll finally get over that hump this Wednesday; that dog's never coming back to you anyway. You finally get your proof you're an American institution when six inmates escape from your ass. Lucky numbers are all square roots of â1.
Try again later.Top 5 Pre-Rapture Activities| 1. | Making fun of people who believe in the rapture | | 2. | Borrowing money from people who believe in the rapture | | 3. | Ironic Masturbation | | 4. | Angry Birds | | 5. | Monopoly: Rapture Edition, or prayer, whatever everybodyâs up for | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Orson Welch 1/26/2004 Welcome again, elite follower of all things entertainment. For hopefully the last time, if you're seeking the wonderfully fictional critic Roland McShyster, please try the first and third weeks of the month, in other words, alternate Mondays, as we now share entertainment duties. I understand you may prefer a lighter touch with your film criticism, something that doesn't affront your B.J. and the Bear sensibilities, but there's no need for name-calling, and I assure you, what you suggest I do with my anatomy isn't even physically possible. Now, on to my review of upcoming DVD releases.
Now on DVD
Radio
Hollywood lovingly sets the civil rights movement back by releasing this potent DVD in short proximity of...
Welcome again, elite follower of all things entertainment. For hopefully the last time, if you're seeking the wonderfully fictional critic Roland McShyster, please try the first and third weeks of the month, in other words, alternate Mondays, as we now share entertainment duties. I understand you may prefer a lighter touch with your film criticism, something that doesn't affront your B.J. and the Bear sensibilities, but there's no need for name-calling, and I assure you, what you suggest I do with my anatomy isn't even physically possible. Now, on to my review of upcoming DVD releases.
Now on DVD
Radio
Hollywood lovingly sets the civil rights movement back by releasing this potent DVD in short proximity of the MLK holiday. Ever-wise film producers went all out to find a script delivering Cuba Gooding Jr. less dignity than Jerry Maguire and Boat Trip combined. I can imagine the conversation: "Wow, he sure was great in Rat Race—would it be funny to see him more retarded?" Unfortunately, bad gets worse as Gooding plays the role for sickly sentiment, obviously having an eye on another Oscar. The only Oscar he deserves, however, would be de la Hoya, and a two-fisted beating. Ed Harris is propped up nicely in the background.
Lost in Translation
Bill Murray unconvincingly portrays Bill Murray, in this bittersweet 120-minute joke about the Japanese. In a somewhat subtle reversal on Harold and Maude, Murray and Scarlett Johanssen play a couple of age-crossed lovers who settle for a queer relationship instead of romance. They run around to fast-cut cinematography and flashing Tokyo lights, and in the end, the director decides if you don't have anything substantial to say, better to say nothing at all. For my money it worked better as another Ghostbusters sequel than a film about the human condition. Some guy and Scarlett Johansson's underpants co-star.
Under the Tuscan Sun
A true piece of women's filmmaking to delight misogynists everywhere. Diane Lane is a classically put-upon neurotic female character who escapes her boring, humdrum life by buying a rundown villa to renovate in Tuscany, starting a brand new boring, humdrum life we are all forced to sit through. Vaguely charming stereotypes abound under the guise of quirky characters and Lane smiles a lot to impose a sense of pretend poignancy in a movie where the most original thought went into the poster's font. To give credit where it's due, the film is beautifully shot, and it's too bad the director wasn't as well.
Lord knows I could deliver more witty entertainment blows to the other assorted rubbish making its way to DVD, but why give you more words to look up in the dictionary? Until next time, good viewing, America.   |