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February 16, 2004 |
Following instruction, a young pilot George W. Bush seeks out the way to the men's room and mistakes a bizarre metal contraption in the middle of the base. Either that, or a publicity still from an early Bush election.  resident George "Whitewash" Bush tried to put to rest the media uproar over his service record in the national guard with a brief prepared statement Friday. Bush revealed his mixed feelings for the Vietnam war, saying once and for all his personal feelings about the conflict stemmed from the apparent lack of oil or natural resources for plundering in the country.
"Before I have alluded to personal reservations about the Vietnam war," the statement began. "These were private concerns, but since the media is preoccupied with the past, let me at last tell everyone I believe the war in Vietnam was misguided. I believe any military action that puts men in danger, when there is no profit to be made in oil or rich natural resources, or a lone figurehead to be vengefully removed from ...
resident George "Whitewash" Bush tried to put to rest the media uproar over his service record in the national guard with a brief prepared statement Friday. Bush revealed his mixed feelings for the Vietnam war, saying once and for all his personal feelings about the conflict stemmed from the apparent lack of oil or natural resources for plundering in the country.
"Before I have alluded to personal reservations about the Vietnam war," the statement began. "These were private concerns, but since the media is preoccupied with the past, let me at last tell everyone I believe the war in Vietnam was misguided. I believe any military action that puts men in danger, when there is no profit to be made in oil or rich natural resources, or a lone figurehead to be vengefully removed from power, is wrong."
It was a dangerous statement for a war-hungry president during an election year, an area that could be mined by election-greedy Democrats and any forgettable third party candidates who might appear on public television or radio to complain. Even conservatives who traditionally back the president expressed initial worry about the president's dedication to the war on terror, or plans for a second term war on Iran, Syria, and Rendibaba, a little shit of an island unknown to everybody but rich in coal.
"Make no mistake," press secretary Scott McClellan responded, fielding questions from frothing reporters, "the president has no doubts about military action in Iraq or any country that supports terrorism. The president stands firm on wars for vengeance and resource exploitation. In Iraq we had both."
And the war on terror?
"That falls under the column of vengeance," assured McClellan, drawing a line with his hand. "Column A, vengeance. That's like Iraq, or Panama or something. Florida. Column B, we're talking exploitation of natural resources. President's all for that. I mean, really for that. Sometimes we have to talk him out of invading ally countries like Mexico. Loads of fat, juicy resources down there. Make his mouth water."
The president's statement could be seen as a desperate act by an administration beleaguered with a bad news week, including continued focus on intelligence mistakes and a plea from WMD inspector David Kay for the president to admit there are no weapons in Iraq. A greater problem during the week was the unearthing of questions about Bush's service in the National Guard during the year from 1972 to 1973, and records could only prove he served nine days in uniform that year, unless you count the Good Humor Man outfit he wore during a summer job.
For supporters of the president, the hope is the statement, no matter how unexpected, will allow the discussion to slip out of public light and turn national attention toward things the president likes, such as apathy, or J. Lo-Affleck gossip-dishing. For Democrats, many are optimistic that the statement will further entrench the president in an uphill battle to explain his role in the Iraq war.
"Ya-wa-hoo!" screeched Democrat presidential nominee front-runner John Kerry, who then proceeded to do a sort of jig most resembling a Riverdance theme. Further questions were not answered as Kerry hopped, twisted, and scuttled into the streets outside, in the direction of the setting sun, presumably hoping others would join him as in a Dr. Pepper commercial. the commune news has no issues with the Vietnam war, except for the proliferation of cliché war movies in the 1980s, which we think of as a scar on our national cinematic landscape. Raoul Dunkin has a scar in a very peculiar place indeed—for pictures, email the commune with the subject line "Dunkin's Second Ass Crack."
 | Bush-chosen Afghan president accused of Bush-style election theft
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North Korea: Thousands of communist birds laid up in nests with flu
Florida declared disaster area months before hurricane hits
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MySpace Premieres in Communist China as OurSpace Pain in the Ass Hawking Demands Handicapped- Accessible Space Shuttle “Blond Highlights the Devil’s Work,” Says Iran, Straight Men Dow Reaches 13,000, Tao Reaches ∞ |
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 September 19, 2005
Those of You Worshiping My Brother Are Making a MistakeI've never been one to player hate; you all know that about me. And sibling rivalry is so last decade. So you know I'm serious when I tell you that those of you worshiping my brother are making a big mistake.
Phil's got good hair, I'll give him that. That's always been his strength. And I can understand people seeing that, and thinking "You know, that guy's got great hair. I bet he's got it all figured out" right before they shave their heads and start wearing the periwinkle jumpsuits.
But hold on one second, Philgrims. Have you really thought about what you're doing here? Don't throw your life away worshiping a second-rate deity. For one, Phil grinds his teeth in his sleep. That's the truth, honest to Phil. Take it from someone who's shared a bunk bed with the man. Grind grind grind, all night long. And I don't think you'll find any reference to rubber sleeping teeth-guards that in your precious Gospel According to Phil.
Secondly, this isn't the first religion Phil has started. I know, the truth hurts sometimes, but you people aren't his first followers. The Philologists were the first, and those guys had it way better than you.
The main difference between Newphilonomy and Philology was that back then Phil didn't have a mustache, and you were allowed to eat meat. I know, don't you envy those lucky bastards? They could grill up a juicy porterhouse any old time they liked, without any celestial recompense. While you...
º Last Column: Way Inside Jokes º more columns
I've never been one to player hate; you all know that about me. And sibling rivalry is so last decade. So you know I'm serious when I tell you that those of you worshiping my brother are making a big mistake. Phil's got good hair, I'll give him that. That's always been his strength. And I can understand people seeing that, and thinking "You know, that guy's got great hair. I bet he's got it all figured out" right before they shave their heads and start wearing the periwinkle jumpsuits. But hold on one second, Philgrims. Have you really thought about what you're doing here? Don't throw your life away worshiping a second-rate deity. For one, Phil grinds his teeth in his sleep. That's the truth, honest to Phil. Take it from someone who's shared a bunk bed with the man. Grind grind grind, all night long. And I don't think you'll find any reference to rubber sleeping teeth-guards that in your precious Gospel According to Phil.Secondly, this isn't the first religion Phil has started. I know, the truth hurts sometimes, but you people aren't his first followers. The Philologists were the first, and those guys had it way better than you. The main difference between Newphilonomy and Philology was that back then Phil didn't have a mustache, and you were allowed to eat meat. I know, don't you envy those lucky bastards? They could grill up a juicy porterhouse any old time they liked, without any celestial recompense. While you poor suckers are left eating warm oats in mushroom broth. You ask me, and I say you guys got the shit end of the Phil's-religions stick. I mean, what can you do for fun? You can't play dominoes. And no water-skiing, you know that's out. And I'm not sure I understand why, but somebody told me humming is totally forbidden. Hmm. Oops, sorry, didn't mean to blasphemize. And I can't imagine anybody really likes going door to door, selling condoms. I don't know whose idea of a religious hallmark that was. Or rather I do: Phil. And aren't you guys tired of wearing those adult diapers all the time? I don't care if a fallen angel invented the toilet; I'm still going to shit in one. And you should too. You really should, especially if you want to be invited into my house ever again. Sure, I understand Phil's got his pleasant attributes, but have you ever considered Roger Andrews? That's me. I'm doing all right, and you could certainly worship worse. Like that fat guy from Korea, what's up with that? I'm way better-looking than him and his creepy eyes. And my religion is way less uptight than Phil's, you can trust me on that. Actually, I'm taking suggestions right now, how's that for flexible? So what do you want the modern Church of Roger to look like? Smart outfits with matching shoes? Done. Holy Communion with nacho poppers instead of bread? Gotcha. Sermons in under 35 seconds? I can do that. Let's see, what else? We've got to ban something. How about oatmeal cookies? Never liked those. And I'm allergic to pecans. But I'll leave that part up to democratic vote at the next meeting of the Rogerists. So remember, for your worshiping needs, why not consider Roger Andrews? He's like the savior's cooler brother who just got back from Europe. Say, that's kind of catchy. I feel a bumper sticker coming on. º Last Column: Way Inside Jokesº more columns
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|  August 5, 2002
Crapping Out Like a Vegas Fat ManThe summertime is the number one time for partaking in America's favorite pastime: collecting mosquito larvae in the wild and using it to make homemade jam and preserves. With us today are two people who should need no introduction, mosquito breeding habit expert Dr. Lipton Cloff and homemaker to the stars, Nancy Van Hummelstein. Hey you two, was it you guys I saw pulling into the studio parking lot together in that red convertible with the Irish clogging music blasting?
NVH: You bet, Stu. We've been partying for three days and haven't slept in over a week.
DLC: That's right. And I'm high on some rancid larval peyote. Please excuse the condition of the green room.
Happens to the best of us, Lipton. Okay, folks, before we strap on the hip-waders and get our egg-siphons ready, we're going to check with our lawyers to make sure we won't be on the hook in case Dr. Cloff goes buggy on us out in the field and has to be put down. We'll be right back after this commercial break:
Boy Ricky, your dad sure does love nuts.
You're not kidding, Joey. Mom says she and dad had to go to three different marriage counselors because dad couldn't keep them out of his mouth.
Really? Wow Rick, I though that all had something to do with your dad's affair with Mr. Humbertson.
What?
This just in: A New Jersey toddler has been indicted for...
º Last Column: If Pigs Could Fly I'd Wear a Tin Sombrero º more columns
The summertime is the number one time for partaking in America's favorite pastime: collecting mosquito larvae in the wild and using it to make homemade jam and preserves. With us today are two people who should need no introduction, mosquito breeding habit expert Dr. Lipton Cloff and homemaker to the stars, Nancy Van Hummelstein. Hey you two, was it you guys I saw pulling into the studio parking lot together in that red convertible with the Irish clogging music blasting?
NVH: You bet, Stu. We've been partying for three days and haven't slept in over a week.
DLC: That's right. And I'm high on some rancid larval peyote. Please excuse the condition of the green room.
Happens to the best of us, Lipton. Okay, folks, before we strap on the hip-waders and get our egg-siphons ready, we're going to check with our lawyers to make sure we won't be on the hook in case Dr. Cloff goes buggy on us out in the field and has to be put down. We'll be right back after this commercial break:
Boy Ricky, your dad sure does love nuts.
You're not kidding, Joey. Mom says she and dad had to go to three different marriage counselors because dad couldn't keep them out of his mouth.
Really? Wow Rick, I though that all had something to do with your dad's affair with Mr. Humbertson.
What?
This just in: A New Jersey toddler has been indicted for having an inappropriate sexual relationship with a Guy Smiley Muppet doll. Reflections of a Goocher is there with the live interview:
SU: Toddler, what are your thoughts on the police's handling of this case in regards to your personal civil rights?
NJTWHBIFHISRGSMD: cruncha crackers moo says cows.
SU: Very well. Would you care to comment on the controversial sexual orientation of the domestic partners Muppet Bert and Muppet Ernie?
NJTWHBIFHISRGSMD: yoshu and the hey bert! ha ha ha
SU:Thank you for your time.
I'm sorry folks, due to unforeseen circumstances, circumspection and circumcisions that's all the time we have this week. Let's have a big hand for Nancy Van Hummelstein and Dr. Lipton Cloff, who will be around to answer your questions after he comes down out of that tree and can be convinced that he's not the letter "G". Let's also hear it for Jason and the Argonauts, who played a great set while we were at commercials. Thanks everybody, drive safe and remember: if you can't think of anything nice to say, go join a book club. º Last Column: If Pigs Could Fly I'd Wear a Tin Sombreroº more columns
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Quote of the Day“They say you are what you eat, which is precisely why I ate fine young Bernard. Though I regret to report that I feel largely unchanged, except for the part about being in prison and having a permanent case of indigestion.”
-Percy "The Cannibal" DandridgeFortune 500 CookieNobody knows the trouble you've seen, and you'll keep it that way if you know what's good for ya, bub. Try mixing your unique brand of illiterate rage with random fits of giggling this week. People hate it when you bring your own records to be played on the jukebox—it's just a soda joint, asshole. This week's lucky piercings: throat, spleen, tear duct, tooth.
Try again later.Top Rejected Cars| 1. | Honda Pfffttpp | | 2. | Chevy Crack Ho | | 3. | Chrysler on the Cross | | 4. | Ford Theater | | 5. | He Ain't Chevy He's My Brother | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Sanchez Vickle 10/28/2002 TV REPAIRFat patterns pulsing in stitches of static erratic and plastic, the spastic display. With a bang and a kick and a "cheap motherfucker!" an emergency side-slapping repair is performed. The picture then jittered and shimmied and quivered then twisted all sideways, the image deformed. With a hearty "hiya!" like the best fake karate pissed off fists of fury rained down on the set. A homemade remedy for that TV set voodoo, a righteous exorcism time-tested and true. But with one kick too many the screen split like a prism and with an ass-rattling blurt that cheap cocksucker died. Now, most would be ready to cash in the towel. To blow a foul "Taps" 
Fat patterns pulsing in stitches of static erratic and plastic, the spastic display. With a bang and a kick and a "cheap motherfucker!" an emergency side-slapping repair is performed. The picture then jittered and shimmied and quivered then twisted all sideways, the image deformed. With a hearty "hiya!" like the best fake karate pissed off fists of fury rained down on the set. A homemade remedy for that TV set voodoo, a righteous exorcism time-tested and true. But with one kick too many the screen split like a prism and with an ass-rattling blurt that cheap cocksucker died. Now, most would be ready to cash in the towel. To blow a foul "Taps" into a snot rag, goodnight. But not on my watch! No, I cannot abide it. You will not go gently, you green plastic hunk of Taiwanese shit. So I break out my tool box, and with saw in hand, I proceed to gut it, this department store brand. And oh what wonders pour forth from its cavernous womb! All transistors and vacuum-sucked tubes. Delightful chrome marvels mysterious in hue. And though I could not save it this shitbox complex, the labyrinth of doodads built only to vex, I have other plans for this flat-lining set. These parts could prove handy, and I'm one to bet they could be glued together to make a grand UFO that might scare the brown vittles out of Clem down the road.   |