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January 17, 2005 |
New York City Junior Bacon The celebrity couple, no longer talking despite their close physical proximity all Street, the place (not the Oliver Stone movie) known to confused New York tourists as "Tin Pan Alley," was rocked by erratic stock prices last week following the market-shaking news that Hollywood supercouple Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston were separating after four and a half years of marriage. NASDAQ closed down over 400 points Monday as skittish investors struggled to find their place in a cold and confusing new world, and the other market thing also went number two.
"This decision is the result of much thoughtful consideration," explained Pitt to People magazine, "and is not the result of any of the speculation reported by the tabloid media. Thank you for your interest and please respect our privacy in this matter."
Despite the actor's modest respo...
all Street, the place (not the Oliver Stone movie) known to confused New York tourists as "Tin Pan Alley," was rocked by erratic stock prices last week following the market-shaking news that Hollywood supercouple Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston were separating after four and a half years of marriage. NASDAQ closed down over 400 points Monday as skittish investors struggled to find their place in a cold and confusing new world, and the other market thing also went number two.
"This decision is the result of much thoughtful consideration," explained Pitt to People magazine, "and is not the result of any of the speculation reported by the tabloid media. Thank you for your interest and please respect our privacy in this matter."
Despite the actor's modest response, numerous foreign heads of state jammed the telephone lines after the news broke, desperate for information about the breakup and eager to console the ailing ex-lovers. President Bush was not taking calls on Monday, and according to reports close to the president, Bush spent most of the day sobbing into a large glass of eggnog.
"They were Hollywood's golden couple," cried Chairman of the Federal Reserve Alan Greenspan. "Who didn't want to be Brad Pitt? Or even Jennifer Aniston? That might even be better. Now, I don't know. Maybe we need to slash interest rates again. I'll be in my room if anybody needs me."
TWA cancelled all flights on Saturday in wake of the news, not wanting to take any chances with distraught pilots who might understandably steer their airliners into mountainsides or other points of scenic interest, due to difficulty in processing this dark news.
"Best to give our people a few days off to let this sink in," explained TWA spokesperson Alan Grover, "to get their sense of perspective back and prepare to go on with their lives." Other major airlines were quick to follow suit.
Pitt, widely considered to be one of the most attractive men alive, and Aniston, widely considered to be married to one of the most attractive men alive, were both married in an extravagant ceremony in 2000. Jealous, bitchy tabloids dubbed the coupling "Bradley and the Beast," immediately accusing Pitt of upstaging Aniston in photos, and predicting the marriage would last only five years. Pitt and Aniston had the last laugh however, making the tabloids look foolish by separating a full six months ahead of schedule.
The news fell hard throughout all walks of American life Saturday, from the proverbial man sleeping on the street to the very pinnacles of power, where business titans fretted over the breakup's effect on the already weak dollar.
"Oh shit," despaired Chevron CEO David O'Reilly. "This changes everything."
"Sell! Sell!" screamed day trader Jacob Lerner into a telephone that didn't appear to be plugged in.
Despite the accepted tradition of a national week of mourning following all significant celebrity breakups, the NFL decided to continue with playoff games Saturday, honoring the couple instead with fighter jet fly-overs above all playoff stadiums.
"America needs to feel hope for the future in this dark hour," explained NFL commissioner Paul Tagliabue. "And if the Patriots putting the smack-down on the Colts is what provides that hope for people, well, then it is the NFL's solemn duty to dish out the hope."
"For the love of God, please respect our privacy as human beings," pleaded Pitt graciously on Tuesday, clearly flattered by all the attention after climbing over the throng of reporters blocking the entrance to the couple's Hollywood Hills home.
A hastily-arranged tribute concert for the couple went off without a hitch Saturday night, with consoling acts such as Norah Jones, Korn, Seal, and Hootie and the Blowfish all paying tribute to the beautiful couple in a tear-filled salute at Madison Square Garden, shared with the world via Pay per View.
Celebrity singer Whitney Houston, though not involved in the concert nor a friend of the couple, consoled both Brad and Jennifer with a spontaneous telephone rendition of her soaring ballad "I Will Always Love You" on Saturday night. Aniston was reportedly stunned into silence by the call, while Pitt was not home at the time and will reportedly hear the song on his answering machine later.
"Jesus, can't you people leave us the fuck alone?" gasped an exasperated Pitt, cornered by news crews in a toilet stall of a Hollywood restaurant's men's room on Sunday.
Flattered into embarrassment by all the attention, Pitt meanwhile has refused to speak to the American media further about the breakup, speaking only to Japanese reporters who, due to cultural differences, don't understand the concept of romance.
News of the breakup comes amidst rumors of Pitt's celebrainfadelity with fellow hot person Angelina Jolie on the set of their upcoming film Mr. and Mrs. Smith, with tabloids speculating that Jolie can better relate to Pitt's ultragorgeous status, unlike the merely attractive Aniston.
Similar rumors spread during the filming of last year's Ocean's Twelve, when the hunk-like Pitt was paired romantically on-screen with the similarly unattainable Catherine Zeta-Jones, despite Jones' icky marriage to ancient crypt-keeper Michael Douglas.
Financial analysts are banking their hopes for a U.S. economic recovery on either a Pitt-Aniston reconciliation early in 2005, or a quick remarriage between Pitt and Jolie, Zeta-Jones, or other suitable ultrahottie. the commune news is tired of the celebrity-worshiping media hounding our every move as well, but more than anything it bothers us that we're constantly mistaken for that guy from the Verizon commercials. Truman Prudy hails from the similarly star-worshiping United Kingdom, but thanks to the cultural divide most of his gushing sexual fantasies involve men and women we've never heard of.
 |  Condi Rice Hates the Way She Smiles in Pictures Affleck pregnant
Red Sox outcurse Yankees to win World Series
Study: Cel fon txt msging on riz :oP
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President Demands More Wheels on Airplanes learly delighted to have an offensive position at last, President Bush lashed out at “safety ign’rant” airlines and the FAA for its low-wheel requirements on commercial aircraft. According the president’s amusing new platform, safety could be increased a bunchfold with the addition of 8-10 new sets of landing gear on standard airplanes, and hopefully would prevent scenes like the dramatic emergency landing of JetBlue Flight 292 on Thursday. The commercial airline flight JetBlue 292 ran into difficulty landing when its foremost landing wheel arrogantly faced the wrong direction and forced a tense landing situation. The event was made all the more worthy of national attention when it was revealed passengers/potential victims aboard Flight 292 were watching their own ordeal on satellite television, one of the perks the airline offers passengers willing to risk becoming human charcoal on their flights. In the end, the plane landed successful, jetting down the runway covered with foam and emitting sparks in a thrilling scene of real life danger only seen previously on repeats of Jackass. Today’s Hurricanes Not Worth a Damn, Say Elderly Southerners In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, and the currentmath of Hurricane Rita hot on Katrina’s high heels, elderly southerners who’ve been there before are offering a reassuring voice of bitter calm to troubled Americans across the South. “Today’s hurricanes aren’t worth a hot goddamn,” groused Boca Raton resident Carter Dunlop, 88. “You all can quit your bellyaching. Back in the day, we had hurricanes to remember. I don’t recall their names or any details, but you can rest assured these latest pipsqueaks are even less noteworthy. Trust me, you’ll all hear Carter Dunlop scream like a woman when a real hurricane hits.” “Category 5? Pssh, they’ll call any old stiff breeze a hurricane nowadays,” griped Biloxi native Ted Knuck. “Back in my day, you wouldn’t cross the street for anything less then a Category 15. And that was only because it blew you across the street.” Serial Killer’s Neighbor: “He just wouldn’t shut up about serial killing.” Heather Graham’s Career Found Dead in Apartment |
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 March 29, 2004
A Brief SurveyYes. I'm calling from American Home Prospectors and I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time. We'd like you to take a little test for us, as we're attempting to gauge the general public's knowledge on the subject of various flavors of fruit bats. Yes it will just take a moment. Please answer the following questions to the best of your ability, choosing the answer that you feel is most correct.
How many bottles of beer are there on the wall?
a) Ninety-nine.
b) Different bottles or the identical pairs?
c) What wall? The China Wall? Seventeen.
d) Who the crap glued all my beers to the wall?
If you wrote a sonnet for a comet, where would you tell the senate to go cram it?
a) Right behind the kneecap.
b) Delaware.
c) Up a monkey's bellybutton.
d) Dinah Shore.
How many ripples are there in Ted Kennedy's nipples?
a) Seven.
b) Forty-two.
c) That's like counting grains of sand on a beach.
d) Ga-barf!
If you whistled for a taxi, and a Nazi came instead, what would you do?
a) Pull the ripcord on my weasel.
b) Dinah Shore.
c) Spank out the beat to "Cherry Pie" on a street vendor's ass.
d) Play Yahtzee with the Nazi, silly.
What's the fastest land mammal?
a) Landmammal Gonzalez.
b) The newt.
c) That little bitch that gave me the herpies.
d) A cheetah what ate some hot sauce.

º Last Column: le bottom eyes º more columns
Yes. I'm calling from American Home Prospectors and I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time. We'd like you to take a little test for us, as we're attempting to gauge the general public's knowledge on the subject of various flavors of fruit bats. Yes it will just take a moment. Please answer the following questions to the best of your ability, choosing the answer that you feel is most correct.
How many bottles of beer are there on the wall?
a) Ninety-nine.
b) Different bottles or the identical pairs?
c) What wall? The China Wall? Seventeen.
d) Who the crap glued all my beers to the wall?
If you wrote a sonnet for a comet, where would you tell the senate to go cram it?
a) Right behind the kneecap.
b) Delaware.
c) Up a monkey's bellybutton.
d) Dinah Shore.
How many ripples are there in Ted Kennedy's nipples?
a) Seven.
b) Forty-two.
c) That's like counting grains of sand on a beach.
d) Ga-barf!
If you whistled for a taxi, and a Nazi came instead, what would you do?
a) Pull the ripcord on my weasel.
b) Dinah Shore.
c) Spank out the beat to "Cherry Pie" on a street vendor's ass.
d) Play Yahtzee with the Nazi, silly.
What's the fastest land mammal?
a) Landmammal Gonzalez.
b) The newt.
c) That little bitch that gave me the herpies.
d) A cheetah what ate some hot sauce.
What's the last thing he said before you pulled the trigger?
a) "Wait. The aliens told you what?"
b) "Whatever dude, fine. I like the hat. Shit."
c) "I love this song! I get knocked-down, then I get up aga-"
d) "All I'm sayin' is a I charge double to tattoo backwards, ya nutbar."
What's the last can you opened?
a) Lima beans from 1982. Thought they were refried beans from 2001.
b) Extra-large whup-ass.
c) Stall #47, Grand Central Station, NY. Unflushed.
d) Proctology school, the day before career change.
We'd like to thank you for your participation in this survey. Your answers will help us ascertain who will make the best protein paste when the robots take over and we become their food source. Have a nutritious day. º Last Column: le bottom eyesº more columns
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|  July 4, 2005
The Fall of the Roman EmpireEvery educated person knows what made the Roman Empire great: stunning architecture, great hats, and Russell Crowe. But what in the hell happened to those guys? Last we heard, they were kicking serious ass and feeding their enemies to the lions, in style. But where are they now? It's not those dorks riding around on Vespas and feeling up American tourist girls, is it? Well then, what on God's green earth happened?
The fall of the Roman Empire has fascinated historians ever since about ten minutes after it happened, and has been the subject of films ranging from There's No Place Like Rome and Romesick to Desperately Seeking Susan. But unfortunately for historians quoted on TV by local news crews checking in on the topic, the real reasons are complex and many, and really hard to boil down to an eight-second soundbite. Not that many haven't tried, ending up talking really fast for about nine seconds before the buzzer goes off and they get dunked in a vat of acid.
First, some background on the Romans: They came, they saw, and they kicked all the ass they could find.
But eventually all this kicking ass and being awesome got tiresome and the Roman Empire gradually turned into a parody of itself, like Bob Dylan in the 80's or the Harlem Globetrotters after they ran out of real competition and started hot-dogging it. Rome became cartoonishly decadent, corrupt and tacky. Morality went out of style and cities fell into...
º Last Column: The Tunguska Explosion º more columns
Every educated person knows what made the Roman Empire great: stunning architecture, great hats, and Russell Crowe. But what in the hell happened to those guys? Last we heard, they were kicking serious ass and feeding their enemies to the lions, in style. But where are they now? It's not those dorks riding around on Vespas and feeling up American tourist girls, is it? Well then, what on God's green earth happened?
The fall of the Roman Empire has fascinated historians ever since about ten minutes after it happened, and has been the subject of films ranging from There's No Place Like Rome and Romesick to Desperately Seeking Susan. But unfortunately for historians quoted on TV by local news crews checking in on the topic, the real reasons are complex and many, and really hard to boil down to an eight-second soundbite. Not that many haven't tried, ending up talking really fast for about nine seconds before the buzzer goes off and they get dunked in a vat of acid.
First, some background on the Romans: They came, they saw, and they kicked all the ass they could find.
But eventually all this kicking ass and being awesome got tiresome and the Roman Empire gradually turned into a parody of itself, like Bob Dylan in the 80's or the Harlem Globetrotters after they ran out of real competition and started hot-dogging it. Rome became cartoonishly decadent, corrupt and tacky. Morality went out of style and cities fell into disrepair. Then some asshole invited the German barbarians to the party and it was all downhill from there.
Some blame the introduction of Christianity for Rome's decline, since the new religion replaced the old bloodthirsty ways and turned the Romans into pacifists who wouldn't hurt a fly unless it was gay or of a different race, religion, or social caste. So when the invading Barbarian hoards showed up cleverly dressed as Christian missionaries with a whole lot of "motivational" axes and spears and swords and whatnot in tow, the Romans welcomed them with open arms and cider.
Others blame the opposite: moral decay, which is even more deadly than gingivitis. By the end, nearly every woman in Rome had become a prostitute, which made being married an expensive nightly proposition for men. Fat-cat emperors like Caligula were throwing lavish barf parties almost nightly, where guests would eat until they honked, eat some more, take a break to feel awful, honk a few more times, and then go swimming. Most of the Roman Empire's high society drowned as a result of these get-togethers, and the unlucky few who didn't were constantly getting hurt after slipping on all the vomit everywhere.
The wealthy who survived the Roman nightlife were all polished off by Roman plumbing, which consisted entirely of lead pipes due to the extremely popular "Get Dead with Lead" slogan of the day. The poor lucky enough not to be able to afford this deadly plumbing had to make due with the crystal clear healthy water from Rome's aqueducts.
But the poor got theirs too, only at the Colosseum, where so many men and animals were slaughtered on a daily basis that they eventually just painted the whole place red to cut down on cleaning expenses. Games would begin early in the morning, and by sundown the corpses were piled so high that the fighting floor was level with the first row of seats, allowing the lions and berserk big hairy fighting guys to spill into the crowd, causing much mayhem and entertainment. The wealthy would take this as their signal to head home and clean up for that night's barf party, preferably before the lions could get to their box seats.
Having the general public come into contact with all this carnage on a daily basis also had a negative effect on Rome's public health, as jock itch became a major problem.
Also troubling were the rising levels of alcoholism among the general public. The wealthy had always been booze hounds, but now even the working class was pissing off their duties and wandering around drunk all the time due to water having been replaced by wine in many Roman homes, thanks to a misunderstanding of Christian theology.
The Roman government was also in trouble, because everyone had a different idea about how to choose a new emperor. Every time the old one died, almost always at the hands of his confidants, spouse or children, the senate would have to go through months of hearing every harebrained idea for emperor selection that people had been cooking up over the years. Drawing straws, throwing a bouquet into the crowd, pulling a sword from a stone, the Romans would try anything. In the end, it never mattered what they decided on, since the emperor was always assassinated within two weeks and they'd have to start all over again.
Soon, the Roman currency began to devalue, since the wealthy Romans had used up all the gold to make statues of themselves, and the public was unimpressed by any of the new Roman currencies made from lettuce, chocolate, or rocks with numbers painted on them. Forgery became a huge problem because no one was certain what real money lettuce was supposed to smell like. Eventually, the Romans had to turn to salt as their main form of currency, because it was the only thing everyone liked. Pepper was used as money on the black market, but even this system was not without its flaws due to expensive sneezing epidemics.
Crime on the streets became a major problem, and citizens in major cities were constantly being mugged for any stray salt they might have in their pocket bottoms or for the salty sweat off their foreheads. The police were corrupt and could easily be bought off for a sprinkle or two.
In the end, the Roman elite pulled too many of their soldiers away from the fight with the Germanic barbarians, in order to protect them from all the lions and scary motherfuckers running loose in the Colosseum, and Rome was lost. Alaric the Goth, a big-haired barbarian fond of dramatic fashion choices, captured Rome in 410 C.E. and had the entire city painted black. This made everything all hot and uncomfortable, though, and the Barbarians eventually left after painting "ROME SUX" in big letters on the front of the Colosseum. The Romans took Rome back, though nobody really wanted it by then, and the apathetic empire would eventually fall in 476 C.E. to the German Odovacar, who just came for a visit and didn't realize he had conquered anything of note.
So what lesson are we to learn from the sad fate of the once-great Roman Empire?
Woops! Sorry, pot pie's done. No lesson this week. º Last Column: The Tunguska Explosionº more columns
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Quote of the Day“I am the very model of a modern major general. Perhaps this explains my inability to move my limbs and the pungent smell of airplane glue.”
-Gilgamesh SullivanFortune 500 CookieYou're set loose and Fancy free, since your cat Fancy ran away. The girl checking you out at Safeway is indeed the lead singer of Deee-Lite. If one thing gets your goat, it's goat theft—consider a goat lock. Lucky Wilburys are Boo, Spike, and Lefty.
Try again later.Top commune New Year's Resolutions| 1. | Breakfast with Bagel | | 2. | Boris. Proper English. 'Nuff Said. | | 3. | Convince Ramrod Hurley that picture of Nelson Rockefeller has no religious significance | | 4. | One news story with a verified fact in it | | 5. | Finally finish off Ivan Nacutchacokov | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Violet Tiara 3/4/2002 Have You Ever Loved?Have you ever loved
like the whistling wind
of a barn swallow's nostril-hole?
Have you ever lived
like a merchant prince
on quiche and curry dumplings?
I think not.
Have you ever stared
into the face of time
like a fearless mutant hunchback
with a huge sword and a locket around his
neck that contains a picture of a tulip?
Ha, I find it truly unlikely.
Have you ever sung
the song that meal-mice sing
when the stars line up
and form a picture of
deposed Chinese dictator Quang-Sin-Joon?
I don't believe you.
Have you ever dreamed
the way that oceans dream
of ice ages and black holes?
Have you ever smelled
an odor so complex
it...
Have you ever loved
like the whistling wind
of a barn swallow's nostril-hole?
Have you ever lived
like a merchant prince
on quiche and curry dumplings?
I think not.
Have you ever stared
into the face of time
like a fearless mutant hunchback
with a huge sword and a locket around his
neck that contains a picture of a tulip?
Ha, I find it truly unlikely.
Have you ever sung
the song that meal-mice sing
when the stars line up
and form a picture of
deposed Chinese dictator Quang-Sin-Joon?
I don't believe you.
Have you ever dreamed
the way that oceans dream
of ice ages and black holes?
Have you ever smelled
an odor so complex
it carried the secrets of the universe?
Not as long as I've known you.
Have you ever danced
on an enchanted morn
with Irish water spirits
and some kind of bizarre
half dog-man who's always
carrying a freshly cooked pizza?
I'd like to see you prove it.
Have you ever pulled
your own throat out
through your mouth and
then played your intestines
like a bagpipe?
Really? I could barf!   |