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Search for Joker Continues in Iraq

February 16, 2004
Washington, D.C.
PENTAGON
A rare picture of the much-sought Joker, rumored to have been last seen dancing with cloven-hooved acquaintance by pale moonlight.
C
ontinuing efforts to keep the peace in we-torn Iraq turned for the worse with the White House revelation Sunday that the "top card in the deck," the nefarious "Joker," was still running around free in Iraq.

"We have attempted to protect the public from the horrible truth until now," said Pentagon spokesperson Gen. Amos Halftrack. "As is often the case with corrupt fascistic governments, prettyboy figureheads—like Saddam Hussein—are made frontmen for the real enemy. In Iraq, the real power is, and has always been held by the Joker."

With no other name for the suspected Iraqi dictator, U.S. forces and Iraqi police have begun circulating cards with the only known picture of the fugitive, to be added to existing packs of Iraq's "most wanted" cards, and possibly ...Read more...


Hurricane Fred heard to remark: Wiiiiiillllllmmaaaaa!

Chinese plan 2017 landing on "nightmarishly under-populated" moon

Todd Phillips Hung Over Hangover 2

Viagra company CEO grilled on flaccid outlook; stands firm



October 27, 2003

Click for Biography

Respect!

Good people, I'm experiencing the most unusual feeling of my entire life. You might call it respect. In fact, I believe that's what it is called, I've made a study of it over the years and I'm 99.9% sure. But it's new to me, and I must say, I like it.

No doubt you believe I've lived with respect every day of my life, but good people, in the interest of telling the truth, I have an admission: I've never been a well-respected man. I know I carry on loudly and speak with conviction like a man rolling in oodles of respect, but it's all been a charade. A big, gay-sounding charade. I've usually been the butt of other people's jokes and nothing but a big joke to those I know, all my life, and it's time I admitted it. Why now? Well, because now I'm getting respect, of course!

As many people will agree, joining the mob was the best thing that ever happened to me. I get 10% off on all my Amoco fill-ups and the organization pays for all my suits. And, it's a subtler difference to most, but people look at me in a new way wherever I go. Except for here at the commune or inside the confines of my own home. But on the way to work or home again, respect! R-E-S-P-E-C-T. You tell 'em, Aretha. I'm feeling you now.

I've always been one to live a humble life, though not by choice, of course. I never knew I had any alternatives. And until putting a hurtin' on Boguslaw Sadowski last week, I didn't. But my fresh new position as mob lieutenant has brought me...Read more...


º Last Column: A Shot to the Sweet Spot
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January 10, 2005

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A Christmas Sandwich Come True

If I go into a restaurant at ten o'clock at night, and they are not closed this time, I should be able to order a venison sandwich and get it. I have said it before, I'll say it again.

Good people, is this America, or communist Italy? We live in the richest and freest nation on earth. Freest? That doesn't look right. Free-loving? Wrong implications, but I see little alternative. You know what I mean—we love freedom. We have endless resources and, Lord knows, if I can afford a venison sandwich, there is no good reason why I should not get it.

Don't tell me it's Christmas Eve, missy. I didn't order a calendar. I ordered a venison sandwich. Venison has to be the fifth or sixth most popular kind of meat in the world. How can a national chain like McDonald's run out of it so fast? That's pretty ridiculous.

As you can guess, this really did happen. I had something called a "Big Mac" instead, some kind of cow meat or something, with salad dressing slathered all over it. I prefer my meats not to be slathered. Basted, or painted, perhaps. Never slathered, and certainly not drenched. Unless it's with barbecue sauce, but this wasn't. So yes, a nasty cow meat sandwich with slathered-on salad dressing. I promptly threw up. That was my Christmas present.

Camembert and his girlfriend Elvis were quite embarrassed. I think they just like to challenge me now. I'm paying for Christmas dinner, I reminded them, I'm the one who should be...Read more...


º Last Column: The Two-Car Garage Problem
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Milestones
1993: Ivan Nacutchacokov/Ivana Folger-Balzac honeymoon ends in stalemate.
Now Hiring
Patsy. Must be willing to take the fall for numerous state and federal offenses. Should bear a passing resemblance to Red Bagel, Omar Bricks or Rok Finger. Immunity to electrocution a plus.
Top Bad Gift CDs
1.N*Synch Unplugged
2.Songs to Masturbate To
3.Taco: B-Sides and Rarities
4.Uncle Dave's Most Racist BBQ Stories
5.Elvis Chews!
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 H.I. Standard
10/13/2003
The Bitcher in the City (Part 2)
As cute as Shelly was she was pretty dumb and just as useless a tool as everyone else, so I thought she should just die already. I told her so, but she didn't think it was as funny as I did. Which was fine because I didn't think it was funny. She and her big fat Army boyfriend Mervin didn't care, though. They just sat there listening to that lame-ass Dixieland Jazz they liked so much and acted like they liked it. It was all stupid posturing. No one could like that dumb music. I don't like it.

Mervin was tapping his hand absently on the stupid table. "You look familiar, kid," he said. He always called me kid, 'cause he was a dick.

"Oh? Stupid."

"Yeah," said Mervin. He was bobbing his head to the stupid music again, like a tool, but he stopped after a...Read more...

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