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Bin Laden Fails to Show Up for Terrorism Awards Show

October 29, 2001
Washington, DC
Junior Bacon
Even Destiny's Child's sizzling performance was not enough to bring the reclusive Saudi out of hiding
L
ast night’s Academy of Terrorism Awards show was a disappointment to all, as the coveted Terrorist of the Year award was won by no-show Osama bin Laden. The awards show, held at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C., in fact failed to supply any of the terrorists who won awards.

“Obviously, we’re sad to see not one of the big winners this year turned out,” said Special Forces Commander Joe Don Dawson, presenter of this year’s Outstanding Terrorist Event award. “It’s a huge shame. But really, it was sort of a longshot anyway. I mean, that they’d show up.”

Dawson then gave a hand signal and several dozen black-clad commandoes rappelled down the side of the auditorium walls, disassembling their weapons and moving single file to the exits.
<...Read more...


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January 5, 2004

Click for Biography

Witness the Healing Power of Protection

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, otherwise known as a bad news bear, but this will be the last Giving You the Finger column for quite a while.

Yep, you read right. Why? you may ask, with my permission. I'll tell you: Because starting with my next edition, in this regular space, you'll be reading Giving You the Bellmont.

I do not jest, not even for fun, but especially when it comes to my column. Giving You the Finger is no longer possible, as Felchyana and I are now in the Witness Protection Program, following our late-December feeling to the FBI. For all intents and purposes, Rok Finger is dead. I'm not sure how he went, my money was always on being fatally shot on the subway in a dispute over a wheat penny, but I'll let the FBI handle those fine details, that's their show. This column is now coming to you courtesy of Godfrey Bellmont.

Before you start hem-hawing about losing such first-rate name material as Rok Finger, I promise you it was the only resort left. The mob was quite angry at me, even before I turned state's evidence, county by county. It was only a matter of time before they tried to kill us yet again, only more successfully. I talked to Felchyana about it, long and in-depth, and she called me a perpetrator and said my rhymes were wack. As you can see, her fondness for gangsta rap hasn't quite passed yet. But I took her insult of my lyrical science as agreement we needed to get away, and the FBI was our best shot. ...Read more...


º Last Column: The Night Before Testimony
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April 29, 2002

Click for Biography

ome, Come to Jamaica!

I've got to say, I've always laughed at those commercials urging me to "Come, Come to Jamaica." For one, it's stupid to say "come" twice—I'm not a dog, I get it, you want me to come there. Forget it. You said it twice like I'm some sort of dog or something. Jamaican jackasses.

For another thing, Jamaica's not even a state! It's a whole other country or something. If it's not American, forget it, you won't catch me tanning my backside on some communist beach in Castroland.

Third: Well, I don't really have a third thing. It looks pretty nice on TV and all, no problem with that. Probably the "ai" thing, that bothers me. Look, you hotsy pseudo-French dorks, you don't need an "i" if you have an "a" already, it's still pronounced "Juh-may-ka." I know from experience in America we pronounce "ai" like "i-ee," as in my friend Aisha. That bitch.

At least that's how I felt before I got on the wrong plane. I've flown out to Hollywood on planes so many times it's second nature to me, so forgive me for getting flight 34 to Jamaica confused with flight 43 to California. But I can honestly say it was worth the mistake, even if I missed the L.A. premiere of Desert Dogs and that audition for Promise margarine I was flying out for.

Jamaica is pseudo-American, it turns out. Some of the people talk funny and say things you can't understand, but just don't talk to them. They're locals anyway. Turns out Jamaica has a lot of people that speak...Read more...


º Last Column: Let the Buyer Beware
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Milestones
1750: Antonio Salieri, second-rate composer and eternal inspiration to the commune. His alleged murder of Mozart, as portrayed in Amadeus, forever encourages us in our war with Crochet! magazine.
Now Hiring
Stepchild. Just sit around and eat and drink me out of house and home without ever raising a finger. Hey, I'm talking to you, you little shit. There ain't no law says I got to be nice to you just 'cause I'm knocking boots with your mom.
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North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY Roland McShyster
11/24/2003
Hello, America! Curious about what Hollywood's been hoarding in their vaults, waiting to spring on an unsuspecting public this fine Thanksgiving season? I hear ya squawking big chicken. Let's take a look and see if we can't separate the gobble from the sound turkeys make when they're not happy. On to the movies!


In Theaters

21 Grams of Fat
Cuban heartthrob Mauricio Del Toro sweats up the screen opposite sniveling wiener Sean Penn in this harrowing tale of a Subway sandwich gone wrong. Fans have been clamoring for years to know the juicy background story on how mumbling hunk Del Toro got so goddamned sloppy fat for his role of Big Fat Slob Lawyer #1 in the 1960's classic Feral Loving in Las Vegas, and...Read more...

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