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"The Truth" Goes Unrecognized at White House

February 4, 2002
Washington, DC
Rico Pollico/the Commune
Many are disoriented when faced with "The Truth"
F
ormer heavyweight champion Carl "The Truth" Williams visited the Bush White House recently, at the invitation of Secretary of State Colin Powell, and no one there seemed to have a clue as to who he actually was. "The Truth" got the grand tour, meeting with the president, the vice president and many members of their respective staffs, yet all expressed puzzlement as to who he might really be or why he was there.

White House spokesman Ari Fleischer said "The Truth" looked very much a like "a guy I once hired to put up some sheet rock in my basement, and a couple times we would go off into the little closet down there to smoke crack and give each other handjobs, but other than that, I can't place him."

The president himself was similarly disinclined to speculate on ...Read more...


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December 8, 2003

Click for Biography

The Third commune Enthusiasts Club Meeting

This has been a wild year for the commune Enthusiasts club and myself personally, President and Founder Emil Zender. Not only did we start the club, we met some great new members and lost even more. None died, which is always good, but some have disappeared and won't respond to my calls, while others have said they regret not being able to come to any more meetings and wish I would stop trying to get in touch with them. Some, admittedly, were asked to leave. Nothing personal, but it's hard to focus on club business when some unnamed individuals in the back just want to have a laugh, often at your expense.

My one regret for the year was not getting back to you, the loyal voyeurs, more often. But I made a pledge short into our tenure I would only write about meetings when someone besides myself showed up. So you can believe I was happy to see Sandy and some of our other club members come to another meeting before the end of the year.

I'm also happy to say our membership has expanded since last briefing. We're officially at 623 members right now, and 14 of those members have written back to confirm their membership in the club. Stag and Christopher made good on their promise to return to the club, and even started making plans for a club field trip to protest a WTO conference this Spring. We're still talking about that one. Besides the troublemakers I previously mentioned, we've also got some quiet remembers who aren't quite ready to tell us their...Read more...


º Last Column: The Second commune Enthusiasts Club Meeting
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November 29, 2004

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The Passion of Camembert

I address this column to roommate Camembert, my long-time friend Camembert, and my wheelchair-bound fellow adventurer Camembert, who has stood by me through every hardship, despite not being able to stand, and has never failed to follow me through thick and thin, mainly because he has had no choice. All these three are one person, make no mistake, in case you don't know. But what are you doing still reading this? It's for Camembert's bespectacled eyes only, I say.

I couldn't stand to sit across the breakfast table from you for this conversation, especially since after 11 a.m. it becomes the lunch table, and around 4 p.m., well, you know what happens, goddamn that dinner table. But this is a conversation that would have been quite embarrassing to hold with you, face to face, so I choose to spare you that discomfort by bringing it to you in my national column. Camembert, you are having very loud sex and it is starting to bug me.

Sure, at first I tried to turn a blind ear to it, until I discovered there is no such thing. I thought I would get used to it. I don't like to talk about sex as much as the next prude, and I never believed it would come to this. For one, I never believed you would have sex. I could handle the loud masturbation, the sound of bed springs squeaking loudly and the headboard bumping against the wall, and the ugly squishy sound permanently stuck in my memory. It was only three or four times a day, up to nine on the weekends, and...Read more...


º Last Column: The Costumer's Always Right
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Quote of the Day
“No poor bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country. Unless we're talking Gandhi, but what fun is it taking a cudgel to the nuts for your country? None, that's how much.”

-Gorgeous George Spatten
Fortune 500 Cookie
Prepare for a fantastic journey of whimsy and wonder, and it's going to cost you $20—don't forget you can't touch her. Your keys are always in the last place you left them, so try looking at the bottom of Lake Chappaquiddick. What's up grandma's ass? What a bitch. When this particular problem comes along, literally whipping it will only result in jail time. Lucky skin blemishes: blackhead, pockmark, knife wound, stigmata.


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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