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NASA Photographs Infuriate Shut-Ins, Conspiracy Geeks

August 5, 2002
Tempe, AZ
Courtesy Of Nasa
Clear photo of "The Face" underlines need for Martian pooper-scooper law
N
ew infrared images from NASA's Mars Odyssey orbiter featuring the long-debated formation known as the "Face on Mars" have sent shockwaves through the shut-in and conspiracy geek communities. Anxious and unbathed web surfers who expected the infrared pictures to provide new revelations about the features voiced their disappointment, saying the new images are bullshit because they don't show any kind of recognizable face at all, just a couple of bumps in the dirt.

NASA claims this is because there never was a face, stupid, only a trick of light and shadow fueled by desperate weirdoes who haven't worked in years. Fans of the face contend that it was only the lack of "night-vision" imagery that failed to expose the Sphinxlike visage they have come to know and love. NASA responded ...Read more...


White guy celebrates MLK day by sitting at back of bus

Saudi Arabian royal impersonator pardons self

Documents reveal NASA sealing shuttle gas tank with oily rag

Attention-hungry China still whining about typhoon victims



September 30, 2002

Click for Biography

No Credit Card for Clarissa

In all ladylike honesty, this is bullshit! I had a hit TV show, I've done some pretty notable movies like Return to Skank Mountain, and my pictures as a kid look so much like Little Debbie they officially have to pay me royalties. Why the hell can't I get a credit card?

I would say it's racism, but I'm pretty sure all the credit card companies are mostly run by white people. And I basically pass for a white person, nobody really cares about if my granddad is Puerto Rican and my step-mom is Navajo. I can't really say it's genderism, or whatever that word is either, since my official birth name is Charles Coleman since my mother couldn't spell "Clarissa." Unless they have in my credit report that I somewhere attempted to buy large quantities of tampons or a girl's bike or something they wouldn't know I'm a woman.

Which leads me to the obvious conclusion I'm dealing with star-ism. Someone at the credit card deciding branch, the place where they pick who gets and doesn't get a credit card, they figured out I'm Clarissa Coleman the B-grade or higher actress and refused me the dignity of a credit card. My reputation is torn to pieces like so much duck-feeding bread and they humiliate me on paper because they hate celebrities.

It's ridiculous discrimination. I wonder if Tom Cruise goes through this sort of thing. Goes in to get a gas card so he can stop at the BP when he doesn't have any cash and they give him a big fat "No!" stamp. He's like,...Read more...


º Last Column: I've Been Scammed, Pulp Fiction-Style
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September 1, 2003

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Crammed in the Closet

So it turns out my sister's gay. Quite a big bomb-dropping, for a regular family, I guess. If you ask me it's just a ninth-inning attempt to reinvent herself like a third-rate Madonna, or a 1970s David Bowie. Anything to liven up her boring life and make herself more noticeable in a family spilling over the brim with shwat-a-veev—whatever it is the French call it.

Of course, she has her own story: That she's always been gay, that ugly dude she went to the prom with was actually a lesbian, and she told me this all before. I suppose it's possible I'd forget it, if I was watching TV or thinking about something else. When I get hungry I can't concentrate on nothing. But I still say she's making up this whole life as being gay just to be more interesting—backstory, that's the acting term we use.

She introduced me to her checkmate, or whatever the cool new term for it is, and we didn't get along very well. I didn't remember her name at all and kept calling her "Marcy," like that chick in the Peanuts cartoon. Like I'm the one who cut her hair into a bob and made her wear glasses. I tried to get along with her for my sister's sake, I really did, but the bitch was saying all kinds of stuff to bait me. Like she had never seen my show before and that it must have been tough being a child actress. I told her it must have been tough being a lesbian for her, and she took it like I was serious, instead of implying it was hard for her to find women to date...Read more...


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Milestones
1983: Red Bagel is thrown out of a casino for counting cards. He is not cheating, merely trying to settle a bet with a friend on how many decks the casino uses.
Now Hiring
James Bondian Action Hero. Must be proficient in fire arms and small mechanical gadgets with ridiculous capabilities. Responsibilities include killing unnamed lackeys and doing battle with bizarre supervillians of non-distinct European origin. Good benefits, adventure, and pussy galore.
Who Let the Dogs Out?
1.Mom
2.Dog Catcher Trainee
3.Scrubs
4.Possibly Me, Though I'm Not Admitting to It
5.PETA
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North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY R.L. Kuntz
4/25/2005
Charlie and the Fudge Packers
There were these two old farts living in a farty old house and they were Grandpa and Grandma. And before they were dusty and old they had children who grew up like weeds and had a son, but not with each other. And that son was Charlie Pugmuck. Forget all the rest of them, this is Charlie's story.

The rest of the Pugmucks are just there to show that Charlie lived in a crowded house with no money, on account of being poor. They were so poor that all they could get Charlie for his birthday every year was a single piece of fudge, which he had to chew up and then spit back into the wrapper, so they could wrap it back up and sell it to an even poorer family down the block. Charlie looked forward to his birthday fudge all year but sometimes he wondered who was chewing on it before...Read more...

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