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Dick Cheney: Too Hot for TV

June 28, 2004
Washington, D.C.
Whit Pistol
V
ice-President Dick Cheney unveiled a new "sassitude" last week, starting with Tuesday's off-color suggestion Sen. Patrick Leahy have sex with himself, and concluding with a spicier, not-ready-for-primetime Cheney fielding questions Friday from the White House press corps.

The VP surprised a number of political experts and average Americans alike by revealing a saltier disposition never before seen exhibited publicly by White House personnel. However, according to administration insiders, who crammed our doorways to volunteer information, Cheney has been quite the prick for years behind closed doors, so it was bound to come out sooner or later.

Things began innocently enough Tuesday morning, when on the Senate floor Cheney told Sen. Patrick Leahy to "fuck off," a...Read more...


Giant Sausages Can Finally Stop Running as Fielder Leaves Milwaukee

9/11 Memory Honored with Destruction of Sears Tower

Terrorists been quiet lately… too quiet

Big Oil: Gas-electric hybrid cars sales rise among sissies, gaywads



August 4, 2003

Click for Biography

You Can't Picnic Your Friends or Your Nose

Everyone here has had a gay old time over the weekend, some an extremely gay old time, but I'm not naming names (Larry and Mitch). For the lateness in the year dictated it was time for the annual commune picnic/field day combination.

Why have you never heard of this before? you ask. To which I counter, What are you implying? If you're insinuating there's a conspiratorial angle to this picnic/field day of ours, I say you're pissing up the wrong rope. Go bother the president or some corporation, Upton Sinclair. I'm merely trying to tell everyone what a good time we had the annual company picnic/field day.

Anyone who's heard numerous compliments to Lil Duncan's sack-racing ability shouldn't be surprised Lil holds her title once again as queen in the sack. Raoul Dunkin came extremely close to winning this year, then suddenly stopped before the finish line—I would guess the idea of adding "queen in the sack" to his list of ever-growing titles wasn't a happy thought. Lil wouldn't have even been challenged, I expect, if I hadn't been sharing the sack with her. It was quite a confusing registration this year, let's leave it at that.

Bludney Plud came in last place, to no one's surprise. I sometimes think he relishes the attention for always coming in last. He does come in last in everything, including the Typing Contest and the Belle of the Picnic pageant. As usual, Lil felt a little robbed when Stigmata Spent won yet again, but if you...Read more...


º Last Column: Saddam Hussein: Dead or Alive 3
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September 6, 2004

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The Rundown

It's always heartbreaking when somebody you care about goes missing. Like your kid gets eaten by gypsies or your husband falls off a boat or some shit, I don't know, all that Lifetime movie of the week noise probably blows hard. But hard as that may eat it, what really pokes a stink finger into the plum pie is when a band you're really into disappears with no explanation, without even the courtesy to go down in a spectacular plane wreck that's easy to remember when you're wondering about when their next album is going to be coming out.

Now that the story's been appropriately set-up and all, I can slap the beef on the bun: my friend Jake bet me ten bucks last week that I couldn't bring Guns N' Roses out of hiding to make another album. It was a tall order, sure, since the band is likely trapped in a series of cages somewhere, decorating the home of some Panamanian drug lord by now. But ten bucks is ten bucks, and more importantly, there was the Bricks pride on the line. The last time that happened, I ended up getting busted at customs with a mouth full of endangered condor eggs and a recipe book for omelettes in my back pocket. So you just know I wasn't going to just let this slide over some hair band that got lost on their way to a string of career-ending drug overdoses.

Before I even start to tell the story, let me make it clear that I'm not some desperate, obsessed GNR fan who was willing to risk it all because I can't sleep at night wondering...Read more...


º Last Column: Omar Bricks' Day Off
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Quote of the Day
“I cannot tell a lie—I like big butts. You other brothers can't deny. My anaconda don't want none, lest you have buns, hon.”

-George Wizzleswishington
Fortune 500 Cookie
Our apologies, but the guy doing your fortune was a complete fraud—hmph. You'd think we'd have seen that coming. This week, reconsider investing in those flame-retardant pajamas for the little ones. Definitely Burger King—definitely. Lucky dusts this week: Gold, saw, angel, and the stuff on grampa's skin.


Try again later.
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North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY Johan Sebastian Crackersnatch
1/19/2004
Pirates of the Terrible Kind
"Arr," growled Captain Blueballs as his ship, the Black Mama, crept slowly into cursed waters.

"These waters be cursed," announced Blueballs gravely.

"But Cap'n," asked Nonose. "Weren't you the one who cursed them?"

"Makes no difference," explained Blueballs. "I dropped me favorite soap in these waters years ago. They be cursed as far as I be concerned."

"Arr, Captain." His first mate, Matey, agreed.

"Arr. Uh… old chum," replied the captain.

"Shiver me bilge snake, ye lily-wiper!" barked Blueballs to Leonard.

"Sorry Cap'n, didn't understand a word you just said," apologized Leonard, who was new to pirating.

Blueballs shot Leonard a disgusted glare.

"Keelhaul me gapers or...Read more...

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