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4/14/26   
Eat shit and prosper
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Wal-Mart Justifies Illegal Alien Labor: 'It's Much Cheaper'

October 27, 2003
Washington, D.C.
Whit Pistol
Wal-Mart, defender of capitalism and alleged exploiter of the illegal workforce.
M
mm, mmm, mmm! Wal-Mart stores around America were hobbled Thursday when bucking young federal agents swooped in and arrested hundreds of illegal alien contract employees to deport them back to wherever they came from, with a friendly, "Better luck next time!" Friday, Wal-Mart explained the hiring practices that allowed so many illegal aliens to be working in their stores: "It's much cheaper."

"Regular labor," said sexy Mike Dunphy, the regional spokesperson for Wal-Mart of America, "is extremely costly in this day and age. Federal law requires you to supply benefits and a certain minimum number of hours for full-time employees. Also, you have to pay exorbitant amounts in overtime for employees working more than 40 hours a week—which can be pricey. Fortunately, Wal-Mart can ...Read more...


Half-time show leaves entire nation in sleep-induced coma

Ethiopians unanimously elect Colonel Sanders

Pink Floyd reunite for One Last Fucking Dime tour

Cloning ban falls apart as U.N. focuses on semi-important things



August 15, 2001

Click for Biography

Lost My Way on the Slow Gray Train

This week's Nedmiller Column is excerpted from "Spastic Diaper: The Ned Nedmiller Story" by Rolando Burf. Continued from last week.

And it might still be that way today if it weren't for one Nedriff Nipplebelt Nedmiller. When Ned heard of the buffalo problem, he locked himself in his laboratory, pronouncing that he would not appear again until he had the solution. Neighbors wondered at the strange noises coming from Ned's lab at all hours of the day and night: the singing of saws, the burping of crows and the vague smell of a swimming pool on fire. Someone called for a constable when a rumor circulated that Ned was melting down school children into paraffin wax, but just as the fuzz was about to knock on Ned's door, the man himself flung open his doors and announced to the world that their problems were over.

The device that Ned presented to the world looked like a cross between a smallish piano and a largish dentistry utensil, on wheels. It had a crank on one side and a flared cone on the other. And on top there was a mannequin head wearing a hat. On the side, hand-lettered in on it's black surface in black paint (or so he told the people), it said "Ned Nedmiller's Framjambulous Laughing Machine".

Refusing the spectators' pleas for a demonstration, Ned hopped aboard the Laughing Machine and rode it west, toward the Plains. It was a four-week journey, but thanks to the help of a flock of pelicans, and Ned's invention of a land-sail, it...Read more...


º Last Column: Check His Nipples, He May Be The King
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December 20, 2004

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The Election of the Twenty-First Century

Acting Editor's Note: Given that Red Bagel has refused to step outside his office since the November election, and has even stopped sliding articles to us under the door, we have opted to run a previous column of his in this slot. Here is some of Red's on-the-ball coverage of the 2000 presidential race, and we hope it seems as insightful now as it did back when it first ran in the commune then.

George W. Bush will never be president, and I'll tell you why.

For one, and let's call this exhibit A, sir: He's the son of another president, and people didn't like that president all that much. America learned its lesson from John Adams and John Quincy Adams, as well as the two Roosevelts. Having your son be president just doesn't work, it reminds people too much of the king system. The one bright side of electing idiot after idiot is we know we're working our way through the gene pool. Why go back for a dip in the shallow end? We tried the Bush lineage, no geniuses there. Even if the "bad president" gene skips a generation, you think we'd give another Bush four years to prove it? Not happening.

For two, exhibit B, and I don't quite know how to say this delicately: He's a bit monkey-looking. Just a wee bit, with the ears and the beedy eyes, and that big region between his nose and lip. And I swear I've seen him scratch his head with his foot. It was only once, but I did see it.

And third: Al Gore's got way too...Read more...


º Last Column: The Quick Guide to Conspiracies
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Quote of the Day
“Upon being stopped by the Customs Officer during my trip to America, he asked: 'Have you anything to declare?' I burst forward, telling him, 'Only my genius!' I was promptly beaten to a piteous pulp and subjected to a humiliating search. Needless to say, they found my weed.”

-Wildman Oscar
Fortune 500 Cookie
Love is a relative term, but even that nugget won't save your ass if you pork your cousin. Stay away from salty snacks this week, even if it means tunneling underground. Try wearing your watch on the other arm—maybe that's your problem. This week's lucky names: Alexia. Ephyn. Scatman. Toolio.


Try again later.
Top 5 Pre-Rapture Activities
1.Making fun of people who believe in the rapture
2.Borrowing money from people who believe in the rapture
3.Ironic Masturbation
4.Angry Birds
5.Monopoly: Rapture Edition, or prayer, whatever everybody’s up for
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
4/10/2006
Meat in the Ground
Toasters are boasters
and otters are modest
but the lotto
you bought
was for the wrong
archipelago.

Mangy changers
are deranged,
sez strange
Jessica Lange.

Druids love fluids
but who is
the wiser
the Kaiser?
On rye, sir,
that miser
misspelt Pfizer.

Fuck 'em.

Loosely
my tooth sings
of ribald
rococo.
Yoko
went loco
and toked all
my Midal
in a long bong
from Hong Kong
with tongs
from Longs
and songs
about John's
stained brainbeans
and Charlie Sheen's
love of Ween.

Cancer
is fancier
if called
carcinoma
Oklahoma
has roma
tomatoes
in pails
and...Read more...

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