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iMac Fired for Controversial Comments

April 16, 2007
New York City, NY
Whit Pistol
The controversial MacIntosh iMac, whose successful talk radio career had prompted calls for an upgrade to visual media television before controversy caused a premature application error.
I
n a victory of mankind over machine, and a blow against white computers co-opting the language of African-Americans, hot-shot radio talk show host iMac was fired Thursday following the uproar caused when it resorted to the use of a derogatory racist word to describe members of the Rutgers women’s basketball team.

iMac, ever on the cutting edge of political issues and social taboos, had stuck his extendable monitor out too far this time, according to some critics, and while some defenders claim it had said worse in the past, this time its simulated big mouth proved too much as it was fired Thursday by CBS, only days after it had been suspended for the same comments.

Ironically, iMac’s damned comments came during its defense of a fellow shock jock who had been...Read more...


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May 26, 2003

Click for Biography

From Lute to Guitar: A Guitar Primer

Recently a famous musician friend of mine who will remain anonymous, his first name Beck, asked me, "Yo, Griswald—the guitar. What the dillio?" From these utterances I constructed a crude sentence asking me the history of the guitar, and it's a good one. For centuries no instrument has been strummed more by drunken frat boys to woo underage poontang to a house party. It is America's instrument.

The basic design came from an instrument in the Dark Ages. The Dark Ages were so called namely because pretending you were smart would get your lights punched out by the unenlightened masses everywhere—it was like our modern-day Washington D.C., though the tie had yet to be created.

The original design is believed to be the creation of Johann Crunch, who later went on to invent a cereal while serving in the military. Crunch had kids that would not shut up, yet he found by pulling his wife's hair taut and plucking on it to make sounds he could lull them to sleep, and keep his wife in line. All this went in the crapper, however, when Crunch's wife died of a self-inflicted arrow wound. Not wanting to lose his ace in the hole with the kids, Crunch put her head on the end of a broom and tied the hair to the other end. This allowed him to create complicated chords with his left hand, like Gmaj7.

Upon his death, the guys who killed him made off with the strange instrument, which they called a lute, because they were uneducated and couldn't spell...Read more...


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February 12, 2002

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Home for the Horrordays

Dorothy said there's no place like home, but I would say that wartime Yugoslavia can't be all that different. No, dudes, I'm not a homebody. My thoughts don't turn to charming holiday gatherings around the fire with the ones I love since it usually involves a lot of alcohol and the fire involves the firecrackers someone tried to light by cooking them in the oven.

I would say my family's strange, but that's everybody's family. My family is homicidally manic-deppressive—there, that at least sounds more original. Seriously, my family is always happy when I come back to Bellmont for Christmas, but catch any of them on the right day and they're happy when the mail shows up. They're fundamentally unhealthy enablers of every drug habit you could name and they derive pleasure from each other's pain. Which is all fine, since that's how I am, but it's real dangerous to put us all in the same place.

First, there's my dad, Fozzy Coleman—dad somewhere got the impression that he was black, and even more odd, that he's Ike Turner. Dad rules the house with an iron thumb, an iron thumb being some gardening device he got for Christmas 20 years ago that spreads mulch. My favorite holiday memory of dad was that year we converted to Judaism. Mom made soggy cornbread and accidentally poisoned the turkey gravy with make-up remover, and when dad found out he was so pissed he threw the menorah like a trident and it stuck in the wall. The bright side was that it worked...Read more...


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Quote of the Day
“Upon being stopped by the Customs Officer during my trip to America, he asked: 'Have you anything to declare?' I burst forward, telling him, 'Only my genius!' I was promptly beaten to a piteous pulp and subjected to a humiliating search. Needless to say, they found my weed.”

-Wildman Oscar Davies
Fortune 500 Cookie
By next week you will not believe what passes for a blowjob these days. Guess how many quarters I have in my left pocket and I will be quite surprised. I said don't cauliflower last week? I did? That doesn't sound like something I'd say. Remember, trust no one. Including me. If you believe that, you're a fool.


Try again later.
Top 5 Reasons There's No Way That Asshole Can Win the Republican Nomination
1.Too crazy/not crazy enough/not the right kind of crazy
2.Makes swing voters shit blood at the sound of his/her name
3.Once snorted cocaine off the belly of an underage Thai hooker who believes in big government
4.Has been photographed not trying to kill Obama with their bare hands
5.Can read
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 Violet Tiara
8/23/2004
Whistlepig
Loud and sweet,
the howling of the whistlepig
erects my nipples like
sails taut in the wind.

Sailfish taught me to win
by cheating at cards,
like a cardinal at charms
or an oriole with arms.

Whistlepig, whistlepig,
let me in,
caught by the hair
on your skinny tin fin.

It's just my luck to get fucked
on a wagon by Chuck
who'd suck a duck for a buck!

Old Spice tastes nice on rice,
but for half the price a calf with lice
will cough in your soup—delicious!

Pernicious rumors spread by baby boomers
ruined my rep at the shipyards.
But playing cards with retards
will even get you barred from Menards.

Vietnam was the...Read more...

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