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6/29/26   
Like a game of Lonely, Lonely Hippos
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Capture of Gadhafi Sex Doll Sparks False Reports of Dictator’s DeathOctober 24, 2011
Sirte, Libya
Courtesy FeelDoll
A less road-worn copy of the Gaddafi doll made famous in last week’s videos, this one featuring the "Urban Chic" outfit and this model’s trademark "sensuous blowjob lips"
A
n autopsy of the internet-famous body of former Libyan dictator Muammar Gadhafi early Monday uncovered one shocking detail: the so-called corpse is in fact a sex doll likeness of Gaddafi, manufactured by the Middle Eastern RealDoll knock-off company, FeelDoll.

"We resent being called a knock-off. If anything, our models are superior to RealDolls, with suppler orifices, stretchier lips, and more voluminous skeet reservoirs," explained an incensed Roman Starsky, head doll fucker for FeelDoll.

"If anything, we’re a knock-up," Starksy added. "If you’re going to jizz into a big polyurethane corpse, we hope it’s ours."

The sex doll in question, an expensive high-end model a far cry from the inflatable emergency dates most commune readers would b...Read more...


World's oldest New Yorker now just some nobody dead guy

Phone porn: Can you hear me now?

Wine increases lifespan, likelihood of declaring friendship to everyone

Drunken Mars makes another awkward pass at Earth



November 10, 2003

Click for Biography

The Bad Luck Club

I have a legal question, and can't get my sister on the phone lately, so I ask you: If you shoot your dad in your own home, is it legal? I know it applies if you shoot a burglar, or if you tie him up and torture him and saw his legs off. If it's your dad, does that take away the whole legal angle? What if you've been letting him stay in the house? Is that like a binding contract or anything?

Not that I would kill my dad. I just like to be aware of my options. Even the last resort kind. He's not bad, by himself, but lately you can never catch him by himself. Him and his buddies have been camping out on the living room floor in my apartment. Which is where my mom used to sleep before he came to live with me, so now she's sharing my bed. And she farts like a French horn all night. So it's all one little straw piled on top of each other, not any single one of them pissing me off by itself, but the whole bunch is about to kill me.

Things got even worse a month ago when Uncle Luke came to visit. If someone comes to your place to visit and puts their name on the mailbox, let that be a warning they probably plan on staying longer. The place is just way too crowded. I'm starting to think some of these cats wandering around here aren't even mom's, they just came in when someone left the door open. The police have been out to my place three times in the last two nights, which is a lot even for me, and the more they hang around the more they're going to...Read more...


º Last Column: A Usurper to the Throne
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August 29, 2005

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Taking Back the commune

Rest easy, faithful commune reader, and any friends you might have: the commune is once again back in our hands.

If the spate of month-long repeats we've been running haven't clued you in, the commune was in a bit of a sticky situation as of late. And it wasn't, contrary to popular belief, just an attempt for us to catch a few winks while our competition stomped us into the ground. I had planned a little time off for the loyal commune staff, and everybody else we employ, but something more like a week, or even a few hours with me just not poking everyone to keep them working at top speed. But it didn't turn out as expected at all. Not at all.

To sum up, terrorists invaded the commune offices. Nothing less than Al Qaeda terrorists, or at least it appeared to me when the small group of foreign men stormed our offices with machine guns and demanded we all choose who would die first. We all chose my brother Gay Bagel, of course, unanimous vote (can you beat Gay voting for himself? What's up there?) Raoul and Ramrod tied for second, somehow beating out my favorite, Ivana. I placed a distant fifth, and I think it has something to do with putting real caramel in the caramel apples at this year's commune Days fair. But anyway, back to the terrorists.

If you think we're going to sit around and let third-world demagogues gun us down, you're sadly mistaken. To stand there and let terrorists kill you would mean the terrorists have already won....Read more...


º Last Column: The Adventures of Red & Rascal
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Quote of the Day
“It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that's completely impossible by the laws of physics and laughable to every sane person.”

-Mark Twaint
Fortune 500 Cookie
This is the week you finally snap. All those years spent strengthening your middle finger and thumb are really going to pay off big-time, playa. Try keeping your dehydrated mashed potato flakes and your dandruff collection in different-colored boxes this week, just in case that last date ever comes back. Oh, that autobiography you wrote in l33t? Yeah dude, nobody can read that shit. This week's lucky porn cameos: Jenna Jameson in the pilot of that awesome new Hoarders spin-off, Whoreders, Big Bird in Larry Bird: Big Bird, The Ghost of John Holmes in everything else you watch because you burnt that shit into your plasma, dumbass, and …wait, Ron Jeremy in your wedding video? WTF?

Try again later.
Top Ways to Leave Your Lover
1.Join Al-Qaeda
2.Quit Al-Qaeda
3.Mail self to Shanghai (unless from Shanghai)
4.Singing Dump-o-Gram
5.Blaze of Glory/Blaze of Lies
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 Red Bagel
3/1/2004
A Fistful of Tannenbaum Chapter 3: Danger Cabin!
Editor's Note: Millionaire raconteur Jed Foster was dragged back into a life of adventure by an old acquaintance, Hans "Two-Bit" Reilly, who may never be referred to as "Two-Bit" again, outside the Editor's Note. They climbed a mountain, there was some reference to a girl named Audreybell and a free backrub coupon, and a lot of horseshit about a lockbox.

They had started to open the door to the cabin when Jed grabbed Reilly's arm, stopping him.

"Careful, the door's wired," said Jed.

Reilly pulled his gun dramatically. "So, the door's been working for the cops the whole time."

"No, not that kind of wire—explosives. One wrong move and the whole cabin could go up like a cigar smoker in a Tennessee fireworks stand."
Read more...

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