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FBI Uncovers Several Other Targets AmongOctober 1, 2001 |
Potential terrorist target Regis Philbin nvestigation into the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks has uncovered frightening proof among the recovered documents that terrorists had planned many further attacks on America that were thwarted or too under-funded to carry out.
Other possible targets announced by the FBI included: The White House, the Capitol building, the Sears Tower, Mount Rushmore, the Statue of Liberty, the Seattle Space Needle, the Grand Canyon, the Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio, the Hard Rock Café in Nashville, Disneyworld, Disneyland, six different Mickey Mouse watch factories, Monticello (Thomas Jefferson's house), Broadway, Six Flags Magic Mountain, the Mall of America, Old McGurkey Trailer Park, the Air and Space Museum, Fonzie's Jacket at the Smithsonian, Politically Incorrect With...
nvestigation into the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks has uncovered frightening proof among the recovered documents that terrorists had planned many further attacks on America that were thwarted or too under-funded to carry out.
Other possible targets announced by the FBI included: The White House, the Capitol building, the Sears Tower, Mount Rushmore, the Statue of Liberty, the Seattle Space Needle, the Grand Canyon, the Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio, the Hard Rock Café in Nashville, Disneyworld, Disneyland, six different Mickey Mouse watch factories, Monticello (Thomas Jefferson's house), Broadway, Six Flags Magic Mountain, the Mall of America, Old McGurkey Trailer Park, the Air and Space Museum, Fonzie's Jacket at the Smithsonian, Politically Incorrect With Bill Maher, Hawaii, Delaware, Regis Philbin, Tom Cruise, James Cameron, old episodes of I Love Lucy, and Bigfoot.
It is believed the importance of each potential target was debated for hours, until it was narrowed down to the top three or four. Estimates say that if Osama bin Laden's terrorist network is responsible for the attacks it would take the entire lot five times over to commandeer enough planes to hit every target.
"It's crazy. Crazy!" shouted Regis Philbin, upon being told he was a potential target. "Scary to think about. Damn scary. I watched the images on ABC News, the same as millions of other Americans. I saw the twin towers in flames, crumbling to the ground. It's truly terrifying to think that could've been me. Me!"
James Cameron promised Osama bin Laden and the Taliban regime, believed to support bin Laden's movement, would "get theirs" when he begins work next month of True Lies 2: Ragtime. the commune News has no quarrel with the people of Afghanistan, Pakistan, or Uzbekistan. Stan Musial, however, is begging for an ass whuppin'. Red Bagel isthe commune's fearless editor and is not afraid to cry during major sporting events.
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At Least One Team in SuperBowl ‘Really Came to Play’ War on Terror Finally Focused on Real Threats Who’s the Black Pit That Killed a Night Club Prick? Elevator Shaft — Damn Right Apple iPhone to Contain Real Fruit Filling |
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 September 6, 2004
Yuppies Aren't RealI would like to take this opportunity to express to the world my view about Yuppies. I hate them. Bottom line. Thanks for listening. Yuppies would be our idea of cool if we lived in a world Bill Gates had farted out of his ass. That's what he dreams about at night, a bizarre-o world where he has a chance with chicks, and the hideous byproducts of his eugenics experiments roam through mini-malls across the land. Holy shit, it happened already? Wake me up when the screaming gets too loud for you. No real human being actually thinks they're being hip when dressed like one of these faggoty, middle-aged losers. You know what I'm talking about. All those forty-ish, peppered gray, khaki wearing, polo shirted, overweight, laptop carrying, SUV driving, laugh out loud at jokes they read in Dilbert wussy bitches! These are the kind of people who thanked their lucky fuckin' stars when computers were invented, because if it weren't for computers, natural selection would have had its way with these gimps like a 350 pound inmate named "Tiny." Yuppies make my scrotum shrivel up like a raisin in the microwave. Just the sight of one is enough to send me into an incoherent, Yuppie-beating rage, as the security guys at CompUSA can attest. I had the acute displeasure of sitting next to one of these zombie clones on a three-hour flight last week, after a long night of tweaking. Thank God I had stashed Nevil in my carry-on baggage, giving me the...
º Last Column: Midgets Aren't All They're Cracked Up to Be º more columns
I would like to take this opportunity to express to the world my view about Yuppies. I hate them. Bottom line. Thanks for listening. Yuppies would be our idea of cool if we lived in a world Bill Gates had farted out of his ass. That's what he dreams about at night, a bizarre-o world where he has a chance with chicks, and the hideous byproducts of his eugenics experiments roam through mini-malls across the land. Holy shit, it happened already? Wake me up when the screaming gets too loud for you. No real human being actually thinks they're being hip when dressed like one of these faggoty, middle-aged losers. You know what I'm talking about. All those forty-ish, peppered gray, khaki wearing, polo shirted, overweight, laptop carrying, SUV driving, laugh out loud at jokes they read in Dilbert wussy bitches! These are the kind of people who thanked their lucky fuckin' stars when computers were invented, because if it weren't for computers, natural selection would have had its way with these gimps like a 350 pound inmate named "Tiny." Yuppies make my scrotum shrivel up like a raisin in the microwave. Just the sight of one is enough to send me into an incoherent, Yuppie-beating rage, as the security guys at CompUSA can attest. I had the acute displeasure of sitting next to one of these zombie clones on a three-hour flight last week, after a long night of tweaking. Thank God I had stashed Nevil in my carry-on baggage, giving me the option of releasing him on that fucking swine at a moment's notice. Damned if they aren't a lot of maintenance, but owning a midget can be the difference between mirth and madness when the chips are down. They should put that on an inspirational calendar somewhere. As soon as that Yuppie sat down next to me I could feel the bile in the back of my throat start to bubble. Watching him squeeze his fat ass into that narrow coach seat, as the perspiration built up inside his precious little round glasses and he started to sweat through his Banana Republic Yuppie fatigues, I could feel my hands twitching at the drawstring of my midget satchel, ready to unleash this poor fucker's tiny, apeshit doom. Since I already knew you can't throw a fire extinguisher on a plane without hitting a Yuppie, I made sure Nevil was prepared for the flight through a strict regiment of starvation and randomly lighting my lighter underneath him to fuel his fire. If you're going to go to the trouble and social embarrassment of flinging a midget onto a grown man in public, you have to at least make sure that midget's in a particularly foul mood, so you get your money's worth. But just when I was about to open the bag and take cover behind the Chinese woman sitting to my left, something infinitely more entertaining than siccing a starved and half-crazed midget on this unsuspecting fucker suddenly dawned on me. Holy shit, this Yuppie was scared of flying! I had no choice but to use this to my advantage. While we were sitting on the runway, I took the liberty of calling the flight attendant over several times to point out the window and ask if they were completely sure that cardboard patch on the wing was really going to hold after takeoff. Then when the time for takeoff finally came, I unbuckled my seatbelt and screamed at the top of my lungs that I was feeling a breeze coming from the emergency exit door. Have you ever seen a man reflexively suck sweat back into his pores? Awesome. Then to polish the poor bastard off, periodically throughout the rest of the flight I would open my window blind just enough to look outside, then start crying. When he tried to sneak a peek I would slam it shut and moan in a trembling voice "Just ignore it! Maybe it will be OK if we pretend we don't know anything!" By the time we landed, tons of fun had worked himself into a big puddle of sweaty hysterics. And when the flight attendants brought out the restraints to cart his ass off the plane and into that rubber van, nobody acted more surprised than me. Did you see how that guy started freaking out when we landed? Jesus. He thought my stewardess-call button was an emergency ignition switch for the plane's engines! Crazy, crazy shit. "That's what you get, you fucking clone," I thought to myself. No question that piece of work blew a microchip or two, either during the flight or while the orderlies were beating him silly with rubber bitch-sticks on the way to the booby barn. And I got his laptop, which makes for a bitchin' dartboard. These are the small, quiet victories I ponder in spare moments, when reminiscing about my war with the Yuppies. º Last Column: Midgets Aren't All They're Cracked Up to Beº more columns
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|  May 9, 2005
You Don't Know Dickman (Vol. 3)America's favorite love-it-all reviewer from Spineless Magazine has the scoop on this summer's hot-to-trot blockbusters… and we've got the scoop on Dickman! Actually, we just paid him a standard fee. He's previewed this year's big summer blockbusters and here's his unbiased reviews!
Kingdom of Heaven
"I'm converted! A Kingdom of Heaven is waiting for you—at your local theater! At last, there's a reward in this lifetime!"
Star Wars, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith
"It's Star Wars-tastic! So good you'll wish it wasn't the last one! But it is. I'm getting in line now for the special effects explosion of the lifetime! Makes all the other five movies look wretched by comparison! Jed-I love it!"
Mr. and Mrs. Smith
"Bradgelina! Yum! The world's most beautiful super-spies make love and war! Based on a Hitchcock film that didn't have quite-so-sexy celebrities, Mr. and Mrs. Smith may just be good enough to break up your marriage!"
War of the Worlds
"The war is over—and earth won! Set your movie dial on 'Cruise control' this summer! A Spielbergin' good time! The aliens are coming, but we can stop just by giving them this movie—'cause it kicks ass!"
Charlie & the Chocolate Factory
"Hot damn, a remake! The world's hot new Jesus, Johnny Depp, is throwing all his...
º Last Column: You Don't Know Dickman (Vol. 2) º more columns
America's favorite love-it-all reviewer from Spineless Magazine has the scoop on this summer's hot-to-trot blockbusters… and we've got the scoop on Dickman! Actually, we just paid him a standard fee. He's previewed this year's big summer blockbusters and here's his unbiased reviews!
Kingdom of Heaven
"I'm converted! A Kingdom of Heaven is waiting for you—at your local theater! At last, there's a reward in this lifetime!"
Star Wars, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith
"It's Star Wars-tastic! So good you'll wish it wasn't the last one! But it is. I'm getting in line now for the special effects explosion of the lifetime! Makes all the other five movies look wretched by comparison! Jed-I love it!"
Mr. and Mrs. Smith
"Bradgelina! Yum! The world's most beautiful super-spies make love and war! Based on a Hitchcock film that didn't have quite-so-sexy celebrities, Mr. and Mrs. Smith may just be good enough to break up your marriage!"
War of the Worlds
"The war is over—and earth won! Set your movie dial on 'Cruise control' this summer! A Spielbergin' good time! The aliens are coming, but we can stop just by giving them this movie—'cause it kicks ass!"
Charlie & the Chocolate Factory
"Hot damn, a remake! The world's hot new Jesus, Johnny Depp, is throwing all his old awards in the trash just to make room for the Oscar he'll win with this role! Burton? Depp? Pure nitro-glycerin and oily rags!"
Fantastic Four
"Talk about good Four-tune! Jessica Alba is hot, hot, hot as the sister of the fire guy. Look Four-ward to this big-ass blockbuster release—it's based on a comic book!"
Batman Begins
"If this is how Batman Begins, I can't wait to see him end! Light up the bat signal this summer! This caped crusader is Bat-ting a thousand! Christopher Nolan puts the 'man' back in Batman!"
The Honeymooners
" The Honeymooners are back and black! Cedric the Entertainer lives up to his name—the 'Entertainer' part. Jackie Gleason wishes he could get out of his grave to grab a ticket to this 'blackbuster' hit!"
The Bad News Bears
"Good news for people who love Bad News—the Bears are back in town! Billy Bob Thornton is his funniest since Sling Blade in this awesome-tacular sports saga! I'm hoping to get Bad News every summer! Don't run from these Bears!"
The Dukes of Hazzard
"A movie that could be Hazzard-ous to your health! This summer, put up your Dukes for Dukes! Jessica Simpson can slide into my car through the window anytime!!! It's remake-tacular!"
Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo
"A stunning and moving follow-up to the never-ending Deuce Bigalow saga! Based on the poignant series of novels, Deuce Bigalow is pure dynamite, and I'm ready to set it on fire! Rob Schneider blows (insert explosion here) the screen away!" º Last Column: You Don't Know Dickman (Vol. 2)º more columns
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Quote of the Day“Do unto others how you would do unto somebody who you knew for sure would do the same stuff back to you that you did to them, only in reverse. On second thought… just be nice, okay asshole?”
-Beazus Frist, CPAFortune 500 CookieNobody likes a smartass… wait a minute, everybody loves a smartass. It's you they don't like. In an effort to make your personality more rounded and appealing, try learning the Tibetan Touch of Death this week. Remember, God made it hard to get your tongue into your own ass for a good reason. This week's lucky prescriptions: Cockgromax, Deuglycontin, Halitosinex, Slopecia, Lilpenihance, Fucoft.
Try again later.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | Tanks: Why Can't We Drive 'Em? | | 2. | Apples: The Silent Killer | | 3. | Suck It: the commune's Vacuum Cleaner Reviews | | 4. | Uncle Macho's Boat Fire Gumbo | | 5. | Critic's Corner: How You Personally Ruined Western Culture | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Beck Steinman 12/13/2004 Mousey MenThe sun descriptively climbed under the clouds, playing peek-a-boo with California as it squatted behind the distant hills, to take a cosmic dump. Joe and Britches came to a cool glen, which is not slang for a guy named Glen who is "holding," but instead a lake area with a refreshing pond. They washed their muddy hands and laughed loudly. Then they drank the water they had just washed their muddy hands in, which is gross.
"We're sure living the high life now, ain't we Joe?" said Britches.
Laughing even louder, Joe agreed. "We sure are, Britches. I got a good feeling about California. The fruits on the trees is so ripe they fall right into yer hands, just like everyone done told us. Yep, I can't see ever running into any miserable irony in a land so gosh-darned...
The sun descriptively climbed under the clouds, playing peek-a-boo with California as it squatted behind the distant hills, to take a cosmic dump. Joe and Britches came to a cool glen, which is not slang for a guy named Glen who is "holding," but instead a lake area with a refreshing pond. They washed their muddy hands and laughed loudly. Then they drank the water they had just washed their muddy hands in, which is gross.
"We're sure living the high life now, ain't we Joe?" said Britches.
Laughing even louder, Joe agreed. "We sure are, Britches. I got a good feeling about California. The fruits on the trees is so ripe they fall right into yer hands, just like everyone done told us. Yep, I can't see ever running into any miserable irony in a land so gosh-darned bee-yoo-ti-ful."
"I loves it when you speak phonetically, Joe," grinned Britches. He was an idiot man-child, but don't tell him I said so, if he ever asks you. I'm not trying to sound mean, it's just a fair description. A big old dipshit, dumb as a bag of Quayles, but with a kinder heart than you ever laid eyes on, assuming you're in the business of going around ripping kind hearts out of people's chests.
His partner, traveling partner, nothing funny going on, Joe, was a short man, who blamed his height on account of his legs being so close to the ground. Joe was the brains of their little group, of course, since the idea of very big men with brains is offensive to short men everywhere, like my publisher. He and Britches had been traveling together for months, and they found it a good partnership. Joe was always there to count Britches' money, so the bosses didn't short-change him anything, as well as help him with difficult tasks like putting his shoes on his feet, instead of his hands, which had helped Britches double his work output. In exchange, Britches was big and muscular, and good for getting Joe out of jams, like all the times he got into fights in bars loudly mouthing off about girl scouts.
Things had gotten tight, though, in the place they were from—Hawaii. So they headed east, to California, where they heard stories about all the beauty and pastoral, untouched nature, except for the dense smog. A fellow could get work there, too, people promised them. Joe and Britches loved to listen to liars, which was probably a fault they should have worried about. But for now, the worries were gone—they had made it to California, and could hardly wait to find work picking fruit. They'd pick anything, for the right price—apples, grapes, peaches, noses, what the hell.
Joe splashed the water on his grimy skin. He laughed even harder, nearly passing out. "Golly, Britches, if that water don't feel good after all that train dust. We should wash up good, 'fore we go looking for work. You smell like something crawled up your armpits and died."
"Just the one," said Britches, and he took a dead bird from his armpit.
Joe's smile dramatically vanished. "Now, Britches—what did I tell you?"
"Just because a man has sex with another man, it don't mean he's gay."
"No, the thing about pets," shouted Joe, pointing with anger.
Britches slunk guiltily as he sat against a log, the dead bird in his hands. "I know… I can't have no pets. 'Cause I'm too big, and not all that intelligent. But I swear it, Joe, I was only trying to hug it! I wanted to hug it hard so I could show the baby bird how much I loves it! I did!"
"And hugging it killed that bird?"
"Well, it may have been moving a bit while I was trying to shove it up my behind, but judging by the way it felt, it was mostly dead already," said Britches.
Joe joined his traveling buddy on the log, putting an arm around one of his shoulders—he was too big for a two-shouldered consolation. It wasn't his fault, Joe told himself. If great books had taught him anything, it was that it's never the fault of the idiot man-child.
For more of this great story, buy Beck Steinman's novel
Mousey Men   |