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Bush Declares Environment Part of 'Axis of Evil'November 25, 2002 |
Washington, DC Whit Pistol Environment-siding traitors, either wearing masks or genetically misbread to look like Bush, make a lot of hooplah to support terrorism.
"It's like some villain out of that new James Bond movie, which opens tomorrow," said Bush at a meeting with oil lobbyists and business friends Thursday. "The environment is threatening the safety of America and our way of life by taking from us what is ours. The reason oil and gas is so expensive—doesn't that just make ya mean mad?—is all because th...
n his brashest act against ecological ideologies yet, President Bush declared the environment to be part of the "axis of evil" that includes Iraq, Iran, and North Korea. The environment, said Bush, in a speech written for him by a college buddy he hired, has conspired to deprive America of its much-needed fossil fuels and energy with blatant threats to "cut off" the availability of these fuels and deprive the world of oxygen.
"It's like some villain out of that new James Bond movie, which opens tomorrow," said Bush at a meeting with oil lobbyists and business friends Thursday. "The environment is threatening the safety of America and our way of life by taking from us what is ours. The reason oil and gas is so expensive—doesn't that just make ya mean mad?—is all because the environment has decided to hold out for better treatment and reduced emissions and stuff. I say we stand up and tell them where we stand!"
Afterwards, in response to reporters' questions if he was out of his mind, Bush stated: "I am in full possession of all my facilities, and I want to keep it that way. We must act now to crush the evil regime of the environment. All these threats to America, from earthquakes to hurricanes, it's all the environment's fault. I will not allow this assault on Homeland Security TM to continue by 'Mother Nature' and her axis of evil buddies."
The White House has stated its opposition to the 1997 Kyoto Protocol, signed by environment-friendly former president Bill Clinton. The Kyoto Protocol is an international treaty in which the United States pledged, with other countries, to reduce dangerous greenhouse gas emissions by seven percent in an effort to help the environment. Bush's assertion is that the Kyoto Protocol will be a threat to the recovery of the economy, which thrives much better when businesses run rampant and unchecked, left to police themselves in areas of deadly emissions. Bush elaborated Thursday that to obey the Kyoto Protocol is to play right into nature's diabolical plan to extort America.
"It is high time," said Bush, then pausing to laugh as he realized he said "high," "that America stop coddling terrorists like the environment. They're our emissions and we can make them if we want. And it's high time Mother Nature stopped holding back on the fossil fuels—we all know you got more. You know what we call someone who dishes out a little bit o' goodies and then stops all of a sudden? A tease, that's what."
The environment, according to Bush aides, has caused America to curb its business such as automobile manufacturing, logging and textile manufacturing, and nuclear arms production. The environment is also believed responsible for mudslides, tornadoes and tropical storms, earthquakes, and other "natural disasters," and the White House is warning it that the heat will only go up until the environment ceases its actions.
America's demands: Unlimited fossil fuels, quicker replacement of oxygen, warmer climate in the winter and colder climate in the summer, and as many trees as we can chop down and turn into furniture.
"We're through jumping through your hoops, environment," said an angry Bush, addressing the sky. "Get rid of all this terror, and the way this whole city stinks. If you don't, we have no alternanative but to consult the U.N.—" Bush and a few buddies laughed in each other's directions. "…and take action against this direct threat to our safety. Remember, we know where you keep your rainforests." the commune news is not a friend to the environment, as that weird smell emanating from Rok Finger should tell anyone. Lil Duncan is a sex machine, only this one doesn't rip your member off like that faulty Thai pump we bought—yeeouch!
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 June 9, 2003
Starting an Asian Rock FamilyI don't tell this to many people, unless they ask, but it's long been my dream to be part of some kind of rock-band family, like the Partridges. Or Fleetwood Mac. I mean, how much ass would that kick? Most kids are sitting at home, eating porkchops or some bullshit in front of the TV while mom and dad barely tolerate each other and daydream divorce scenarios in their heads, The Love Boat reflecting off their glassy eyes. But you, the rock-family kid? No way, you're on tour and television and crap. Your family's got groupies and your dad's doing monster lines of coke all the time. Damn.
Before you go and get me all wrong, and think Omar Bricks has gone full-blown gay on y'all, remember that I'm not talking about Hanson or anything here. I'm not talking about clones or Siamese twins or whatever the hell they are. I fully support their right to just go somewhere and die, like everybody does. I'm talking about a real full-on family. Only not all shitty like the Partridges, I'm thinking more a family that could kick some ass. Like if Glen Danzig was your dad and Freddie Mercury was your mom. That kind of family.
I called up a record executive I know from jury duty to run this idea by him, see if it climbed naked up the flagpole and dropped trou, as the saying goes. He said he didn't know I had kids. Which should have been obvious, as anyone who knows me can tell I don't want to die all the time. I told him not to worry about the family part of it,...
º Last Column: Bricks on the Fourth of July
º more columns
I don't tell this to many people, unless they ask, but it's long been my dream to be part of some kind of rock-band family, like the Partridges. Or Fleetwood Mac. I mean, how much ass would that kick? Most kids are sitting at home, eating porkchops or some bullshit in front of the TV while mom and dad barely tolerate each other and daydream divorce scenarios in their heads, The Love Boat reflecting off their glassy eyes. But you, the rock-family kid? No way, you're on tour and television and crap. Your family's got groupies and your dad's doing monster lines of coke all the time. Damn.
Before you go and get me all wrong, and think Omar Bricks has gone full-blown gay on y'all, remember that I'm not talking about Hanson or anything here. I'm not talking about clones or Siamese twins or whatever the hell they are. I fully support their right to just go somewhere and die, like everybody does. I'm talking about a real full-on family. Only not all shitty like the Partridges, I'm thinking more a family that could kick some ass. Like if Glen Danzig was your dad and Freddie Mercury was your mom. That kind of family.
I called up a record executive I know from jury duty to run this idea by him, see if it climbed naked up the flagpole and dropped trou, as the saying goes. He said he didn't know I had kids. Which should have been obvious, as anyone who knows me can tell I don't want to die all the time. I told him not to worry about the family part of it, I was sure I could scare up some orphans or some shit, or even some faux-parents if the demographic was to skew that way. I don't think the Mamas and the Papas have been up to anything lately, they're so far behind the music they can see up its ass like a cat. Still, even at that, he wasn't sure if the idea had wings. We argued back and forth for a few minutes about whether Wings rocked or not, then I think my phone card ran out because I don't remember saying goodbye.
The one thing he said that did stick with me though was that if the idea were going to work, it would have to have some spin on it. Like if it was an Asian family. People can't get enough of Asian shit these days; it's like having a cartoon without having to pay some greedy art school snobs to draw it for you. Plus they're always saying hilarious shit like "I rove you rong time!" like Scooby Doo and people eat it up.
I figured this was probably some pretty solid advice, since Dave knew his shit when we were on jury duty, like you're not supposed to answer the questions the lawyers ask out loud. It's different from being in an infomercial audience that way, but they don't explain all that when you're sitting down in the bleachers and then they act like you're the only asshole who didn't read the jury duty book or whatever. You can get those guys back though, you just tell 'em L.A. Law sucked and the look on their faces is priceless.
So I decided to go the Asian route with my Rock Family. It all has to start with me, of course, so I had to change my name to something believably Asian. My stage name, anyway. And even more than that, it would have to be Asian as shit to overcome the fact that I look whiter than Eminem crossed with the bailiff from Night Court. So people would see me on TV and be like "Naw!" but then my Asian name would flash up on the screen and they'd feel like stupid asses for doubting and hope nobody heard them.
I ran through a few different options, most of which turned out to be copyrighted by dirty joke books, but before long I settled on the winner: Woon Fat Leung. Shit yeah. I liked how it was undeniably Asian, yet at the same time implied I probably knew some serious karate or else had a gun that never ran out of bullets. Plus it sounded cool. That's a lot of work for one name to do, so it definitely beats a normal slack-ass name like Omar Bricks, which is badass and all, but by itself only implies that I don't have tits.
So now the hard work is done, all that remains is finding some adorable little Asian kids who can play the drums, guitar, bass, keyboards and sing… but I've got the tambourine nailed down. If one of those little kids turns out to be a tambourine virtuoso he's going to have to be my understudy or else ready himself for one serious "Devil Went Down to Georgia"-style tambourine battle, since I'll likely be twice his size and I play dirty.
If you happen to know any interested Asian kids, or come to think of it, a Bricks-aged Asian chick who could pass for the mom and doesn't play the tambourine, send them around the commune offices. Only tell them to stay away from Ramrod Hurley's office, I think that guy's having some kind of Vietnam flashback in there and all he needs are some little people in pointy hats coming around to totally fuck his mind for good.
Bricks out. º Last Column: Bricks on the Fourth of Julyº more columns
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|  August 29, 2005
First Griswald Dreck Chat TranscriptHey gang, chain gangs, and other gang members. Welcome to the commune’s first ever live chat with Griswald Dreck, answerman extraordinaire. Send in your questions now, and Dreck will put a hurting on them when he gets here at 2pm ET.
2:01pm
 Griswald Dreck:
It’s on, bitch!
Roger (Tumora, GA): hey Griswald what’s the biggestthing you ever et?
Griswald Dreck:
Roger, Roger, Roger. Why do you grace my inbox with your inimitable presence? No really, why? The courts want to know. Rather than answer your question, Roger, I’d prefer to provide you with a service you’ll come to find far more valuable. I’d like you kick you in the nuts and prevent you from breeding. Since this is difficult to accomplish through the forum of an online chat, instead I’ll recommend walking up to the next pretty girl you see, and telling her you love what she’s done with the wallpaper in her bedroom. Should accomplish the same ends.
Chancey (STL):
Hey Griswald, love the column. Or I loved a column, actually I’m not sure who wrote it. But whatever. Anyway, some...
º Last Column: The Fall of the Roman Empire
º more columns
Hey gang, chain gangs, and other gang members. Welcome to the commune’s first ever live chat with Griswald Dreck, answerman extraordinaire. Send in your questions now, and Dreck will put a hurting on them when he gets here at 2pm ET.
2:01pm
Griswald Dreck:
It’s on, bitch!
Roger (Tumora, GA): hey Griswald what’s the biggestthing you ever et?
Griswald Dreck:
Roger, Roger, Roger. Why do you grace my inbox with your inimitable presence? No really, why? The courts want to know. Rather than answer your question, Roger, I’d prefer to provide you with a service you’ll come to find far more valuable. I’d like you kick you in the nuts and prevent you from breeding. Since this is difficult to accomplish through the forum of an online chat, instead I’ll recommend walking up to the next pretty girl you see, and telling her you love what she’s done with the wallpaper in her bedroom. Should accomplish the same ends.
Chancey (STL):
Hey Griswald, love the column. Or I loved a column, actually I’m not sure who wrote it. But whatever. Anyway, some asshole told me it was a scam to buy checks from the bank because the constitution says you can write a check on anything, like your ass or whatever, and the bank has to take it. Is this true? Have I really been throwing away dozens of dollars over the years on fluffy kitty checks that I didn’t even need. If so, consider me pissed.
Griswald Dreck:
Yeah Chancey, you’re an asshole. Oh, I’m sorry, that wasn’t the question. Getting to the point, yes you can write a check on pretty much anything and the bank will honor it, unless it’s a piece of fresh fish, because that gums up their machinery pretty badly. Over the years people have written checks on all kinds of things just to be funny or total dicks. Sometimes both, either funny total dicks or total funny dicks. My favorite is the story of the man who owed his neighbor $30, so he painted a $30 check on a door and dropped it on the neighbor from the roof as he was walking by. The beauty of that move is that you know the check will never be cashed, since it’s going to be in police custody as evidence in the murder trial. Sometimes you really can beat the system.
Philbert (Jewston, NJ):
That’s crazy dude. So, related question: Can you mail anything? Like if my bro in Philly lost one of his shoes, could I stick a stamp on 1 of mine and chuck it in the mailbox? If so, how much does that cost????????
Griswald Dreck:
It is true you can mail pretty much anything you want without a box, except for live tigers or knives with the handle cut off. Some joker tried both of those in one week back in 1974 and ruined the fun for the rest of us. So yes, you could put a stamp on a shoe and mail it if you wanted to. But it would only really be worth it if the shoe was covered in dog shit, as an act of revenge against an enemy and/or a nasty postal carrier. Pretty much anything else weird you could mail would fall into the “Shoulda mailed the dog shit shoe instead” category. Also, as a word of advice, you should probably mail your brother both of your shoes, or else you’re both going to look like dipshits. More so.
Bob (Pittsburg):
Hey GD- how come they got rid of bullpen carts in baseball?
Griswald Dreck:
Ah, Bob. I thought you’d stopped writing. As I’ve explained several times before, they stopped using bullpen carts in baseball because some insane asshole from Pittsburg kept writing to the commissioner, asking him why they used bullpen carts in baseball. This was driving everyone nuts, and the powers that be in MLB thought that getting rid of the carts would remedy the problem. Obviously they were as mistaken about this as they were about their decision to put fat men in stretchy pants.
E. Zender (Shanesly, VT):
Mr. Dreck: So, what’s it like working with all those crazy personalities at the commune? With free spirits like Omar Bricks and Ivana Folger-Balzac around, I bet it’s a blast!
Griswald Dreck:
It’s a lot like playing on a softball team with the Manson family, except without the fun of playing softball.
Griswald Dreck:
It’s a lot like playing on a softball team with the Manson family, except without the fun of playing softball.
Big Dan (Penn St):
i’ve always wondered what it would be like to fart in space. so??
Griswald Dreck:
Finally, a thoughtful, civilized question. I’m kidding of course Dan. But I’ll still answer your question in order to fulfill my foolish New Year’s Resolution to share the light of knowledge with the dull masses. And the answer is this: You still wouldn’t have any friends. Sorry.
E. Zender (Shanesly, VT):
Mr. Dreck, any chance that any of the esteemed commune staff will be attending the communeCon (a.k.a. Seventh commune Enthusiasts Club meeting) here in Shanesly in November? I hope I know the answer!
Griswald Dreck:
Not unless you count as a staff member, Emil. In other words: ha ha ha.
Rick T. (Noboken, VT):
How comes when you see the reflection of your face in a spoon, it’s all upsidown and shit? Freakshoww!
Griswald Dreck:
This has a lot to do with the way light refracts off of concave and convex surfaces, Rick. Because of the way that physics work, when you concentrate hard enough on the concave surface of a spoon, the light beams re-arrange your facial molecules until your entire face is on upside-down. Thankfully the face goes back pretty quick after you take away the spoon, unless it’s a full moon. Try not to do this around any small children, Rick, as it may shake them loose of their sanity.
Dennis Falkner (Cleveland, OH):
In Star Wars: A New Hope, rogue space smuggler Han Solo boasts to Luke and Obi-Wan that the Millennium Falcon could make the famed “Kessel Run” in under twelve parsecs. But a parsec is a measure of distance, not time! Did Solo mean that he had somehow found a shorter route through the Run, or was Lucas simply that naïve about matters of space/time?!?
Griswald Dreck:
I’m sorry, did you ask a question? I stopped reading after you mentioned Star Wars. Okay, I’m lying, I stopped reading after I heard you were from Cleveland. I mean come on.
E. Zender (Shanesly, VT):
Me again Griswald. If you could be any historical figure, past or present (commune employee or otherwise) who would it be? And why?
Griswald Dreck:
Okay, last Emil Zender question. There is only one correct answer to this question, regardless of whom you ask, and that answer is Archbishop Desmond Tutu. End of debate.
lenny (kitchin):
if you could eat your own face, how come you can’t eat your own face? i think you could do it except for the mouth part, because that’s like one of them snakes eats his own butt. But the rest of it, you could eat that. how come stamps got people on ‘em?
Griswald Dreck:
That's my cue!
2:15pm
Griswald Dreck:
I’m afraid my time’s up folks, thanks for taking part in the first-ever commune live chat. They hope to do this again some time. By “they” I mean the powers-that-be at the commune. Notice that I didn’t use the more-common “we.” Please notice this. Goodnight. º Last Column: The Fall of the Roman Empireº more columns
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Quote of the Day“We have nothing to fear but Fear itself. Fear is, of course, my rabid pit bull infected with the plague.”
-Franklin de RooseveltFortune 500 CookieA watched pot never boils, and rust never sleeps. Doubt every instinct this week. A friend says sugar cookies turn you queer, for real. Lucky numbers 10, 10, 32, and 1.
Try again later.Top Justifications for Iraq War| 1. | France don't tell us we can't do something | | 2. | Saddam said California was totally gay, for real | | 3. | Thought country offered frequent invader incentives | | 4. | Kuwait had "bad feeling" about some guys along the border | | 5. | CIA had strong evidence of uncounted Florida ballots in Tikrit | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 5/24/2011 Buenos Greetos, Americanos. Roland McShyster here, brought to you by our good friends at Elmer’s Milk. We’ve got an exciting slate of new summer releases to cover here, so let’s get to the getting!
Besidesmaids
There’s no lower rung on the ladder of female bitchitude than being someone’s back-up bridesmaid for their wedding, in case their real friends fuck off or come down with an unfeminine case of the shits on wedding’s eve. And this group of neurotic tarts spends 90 minutes proving they really did deserve to be besidesmaids. Starring Chris Kattan in a wig.
Fast Five
High-octane adrenaline-soaked action is exactly what’s missing from this curiously sedate sequel to the The Fast and the Fuck You car-racing...
Buenos Greetos, Americanos. Roland McShyster here, brought to you by our good friends at Elmer’s Milk. We’ve got an exciting slate of new summer releases to cover here, so let’s get to the getting!
Besidesmaids
There’s no lower rung on the ladder of female bitchitude than being someone’s back-up bridesmaid for their wedding, in case their real friends fuck off or come down with an unfeminine case of the shits on wedding’s eve. And this group of neurotic tarts spends 90 minutes proving they really did deserve to be besidesmaids. Starring Chris Kattan in a wig.
Fast Five
High-octane adrenaline-soaked action is exactly what’s missing from this curiously sedate sequel to the The Fast and the Fuck You car-racing series, which instead centers around a gang of big, beefy ex-con friends who are constantly jockeying to get into each other’s "Five" list of cell phone numbers that enjoy free calling within the network. There were some pretty tense scenes, like the one where John Boy deletes his own mother from his "Five" while racing down the 405 freeway at the speed of traffic, but overall I was expecting a lot more bone-jarring fireballs and a lot fewer oafs with hot dog fingers trying to text with their thumbs.
The Handover 2
Those loveable babynappers are back for another round of fun in this lighthearted sequel, where they sell the baby from the first movie to a brothel in Thailand. Zach Garfieldknockers reminds everybody that fat Elvis was the funniest thing ever and that guy from The Office is hilarious as that guy from The Office.
Kung Fu Pander 2
Score one for the forces of honesty in advertising, as at least the studios were transparent in naming this series that panders to parents who think their kids are special and should follow their dreams, just like the CGI monkeys and shit in the movie. But as The Karate Kid taught us, all getting really good at karate will ever get you is being Ralph Machismo, which is reason enough not to try anything ever.
Pilates of the Caribbean 4: On Stronger Tards
I knew somebody was gonna make a Pilates video for the mentally disabled sooner or later. Everybody said I was crazy, but who’s the asshole now? The folks that named this movie.
Thorpe
Raise your hand if you knew my junior high social studies teacher had a Marvel superhero modeled after him. I know! But there he is, not any larger than life on the big screen. I’m not sure if Marvel’s going to have a hit on their hands on this one, since even back in junior high I knew that not even 3D CGI could make that fucking guy interesting. Thought I do have to admit I did kind of enjoy the scene where Thorpe brings the hammer down on a burnout who didn’t read up on the Taft-Hartley Act last night.
X-Men: No Class
Finally this venerable franchise quits pulling its punches and gives us the mutants we want to see, the ones with mutations that aren’t ready for prime time. Like ShitStain, the guy who can shit out of any opening in his body, Daddy-Issues, the girl who will hook up with anybody, Nose Candy (who literally produces candy out of his nose, like your uncle at a birthday party, I know, it was a strange choice), Wicker-Hair (that one’s kind of self-explanatory), The Amazing Rapist (also kind of explains itself), Go!Nads! (magnetic balls), The Abominable Snow (white reggae-rapper), Timelap (repeats himself a lot), and Wall Street, the guy who needs cocaine to sleep. Some have complained that the series only turned to these second-stringers because they burnt up all the good mutants in the first half-dozen movies, but I say Fahvernugen to that noise.
Join us again after the next expiration date cycle for the latest in movie truth!   |
