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 October 18, 2004 |
Bush and Kerry can agree on one thing: Cockwad? Yes.
According to political pundits analyzing the debates for the major networks, Kerry looks kind of like an alien and Bush makes a lot of stupid faces.
Seeking to differentiate his Buckles position from that of his challenger, Bush accused Kerry of changing his mind about whether or not Mark Buckles was a cockwad, citing Kerry’s infamous “I called...
ast Wednesday’s final presidential debate left many questions unanswered in the minds of American voters, but not among them was the cockwad status of U.S. citizen Mark Buckles. Despite their numerous policy differences, both President Bush and Democratic challenger John Kerry saw squarely eye to eye on the Buckles issue, presenting a unified vision for a future America where Buckles is clearly a total cockwad.
According to political pundits analyzing the debates for the major networks, Kerry looks kind of like an alien and Bush makes a lot of stupid faces.
Seeking to differentiate his Buckles position from that of his challenger, Bush accused Kerry of changing his mind about whether or not Mark Buckles was a cockwad, citing Kerry’s infamous “I called Buckles a cockwad before I didn’t” quote from last year.
“Unlike that Belgian motherfucker over there,” Bush said with his trademark uninformed bravado. “I knew Mark Buckles was a cockwad from the start. And America needs strong leaders who know a Buckles when they see one.”
Meanwhile, Kerry accused Bush of refusing to admit his mistake in branding Buckles a cockwad before all available evidence had been collected, and merely going on the word of Secretary of State Colin Powell, who has personal reasons for his feelings about Buckles.
“Mark Buckles is not the cockwad that George Bush promised America,” explained Kerry. “We were sold a bill of goods. Yes, Mark is definitely a cockwad. But not the king-sized cockwad that this administration painted him to be, when they needed your support to go public about this young man.”
“And as for my cockwad stance,” Kerry elaborated. “At first I gave Buckles the benefit of the doubt, as I’d like to think any strong leader would. But once all the available evidence had been collected, it became clear that Mark is indeed a cockwad.”
Kerry seemed to struggle with his usual problem of talking out of both sides of his mouth during the debate Wednesday, attempting to appease liberals who think Buckles got a raw deal as well as centrist Democrats and undecideds who believe that Buckles is a cockwad, but still think Bush rushed to judgment too quickly in the matter.
Partisans on both sides shared their hysterical reactions with anyone who would listen, even before the debates had ended.
“Kerry is a God among men and his penis is lovely,” explained breathless Democratic partisan Dane Philsley when asked about his candidate’s debate performance.
“George Bush proved once and for all that he farts wisdom into a can for the world to huff,” disagreed Republican partisan Carla Dennis, apparently believing this to be a compliment.
Regardless of who came out ahead in the debates, both candidates have likely lost the vote of Buckles, who could not be reached for comment. Some pundits have argued that Buckles was the real loser of Wednesday’s debate, since whoever wins the November election, Mark Buckles will spend the next four years known as an unmistakable cockwad. What is unknown as of yet is how much of a boost Buckles’ supporters will give third-party candidate Ralph Nader, who has gone on record as saying he’s sure Buckles has his redeeming qualities.
According to a CNN.com instant poll taken immediately following the debates, Mark Buckles sucks balls. the commune news isn’t entirely sure who this Mark Buckles guy is, but he sounds like a dick to us. Boner Cunningham is famous in journalism circles for believing absolutely everything he reads, including a life-changing note written on a cocktail napkin which read “Boner Cunningham pees sitting down.”
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Media Plugs CIA Leak ne the most potentially controversial stories in recent years was successfully nipped in the bud by the Bush White House and its ever-faithful assistant, the national news media, as the ongoing story of former Cheney Chief of Staff Lewis Libby’s indictment, the first of a sitting White House official in history, was relegated to page 3 by bored news directors and other major Republican-driven news stories. Libby, called “Scooter” by his many enemies, is the first and likely only casualty of the under-covered story of a White House leak, in which the identity of a working CIA operative, conveniently the wife of Bush opponent Joseph Wilson. Wilson’s wife Valerie Plame was outed as a spy by a conservative columnist, and his source was traced back to the White House. While liberals hoped the 22-month investigation by Special Counsel Patrick Fitzgerald would reveal the dirty tactic came from a source as high as presidential counselor Karl Rove, the most the Democrats could succeed with was a guy named Scooter. And the victory itself was short-lived. French Protestors Politely Riot urious French protestors continued to riot over the weekend, gently overturning traffic cones and unleashing salvos of pithy wit at assembled riot police across some of the roughest neighborhoods in all of Paris. The riots began the previous week in the Seine-Saint-Denis suburb northeast of Paris, sparked by what officials believe was a disagreement over food. “Those incorrigible police buffoons know nothing of fine chocolate!” said impassioned teenage rioter Jean Touloc, only in French. The urbane French police were overwhelmed almost before the rioting even began, requiring the French Army to be brought in last week. The army surrendered four hours later, and plans were being drawn up for a transitional government when some joker switched out the treaty-signing pen with a novelty model that laughs electronically when you try to write with it. The rioters, perhaps correctly believing that they were not being taken seriously, stepped up their boisterous chants of “We beg to differ!” and their disorderly milling-about. Australian Al-Qaeda’s Accent Makes “Osama Bin Laden” Sound Hilarious Use of Term “Gaydar” Most Effective Means of Telling Someone’s Gay |
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 July 21, 2003
Saddam Hussein: Dead or Alive 3While your average American gives no thought to the complicated world of politics, concerned more with trivialities such as "Will my job survive the year?" and "How can I afford to keep my family medically insured?" the think-tankers in the upper echelons of the U.S. government are asking only one question: "Is Saddam Hussein alive, and if so, where is he?" Yes, if you check, that's technically only one question, hence the single question mark.
The short answer is: No. But wait! Before you think I've become boring in my old age, I haven't cracked your brain with the baseball bat of conspiracy yet, and I assure you there is more to the Saddam Hussein story than you've considered before. And always more than they're telling you.
The reason Saddam Hussein is no longer alive is that he was never alive. Saddam Hussein, was, is, and always has been nothing more than a computer program. Surprised? Good, I say. You don't think I hold off on telling you all this shit simply because it slipped my mind, do you? I get my jollies watching your jaw drop, friend.
Has anyone ever seen the movie Virtuosity? Of course not. Some would chalk this up to the film being predictable and fairly empty of any real enjoyment, but I say this underestimates the part played by the American government to make the movie go unseen. The film is a roundabout way to propose that many of our society's villains are nothing more than distracting computer...
º Last Column: Roll On, Columbia
º more columns
While your average American gives no thought to the complicated world of politics, concerned more with trivialities such as "Will my job survive the year?" and "How can I afford to keep my family medically insured?" the think-tankers in the upper echelons of the U.S. government are asking only one question: "Is Saddam Hussein alive, and if so, where is he?" Yes, if you check, that's technically only one question, hence the single question mark.
The short answer is: No. But wait! Before you think I've become boring in my old age, I haven't cracked your brain with the baseball bat of conspiracy yet, and I assure you there is more to the Saddam Hussein story than you've considered before. And always more than they're telling you.
The reason Saddam Hussein is no longer alive is that he was never alive. Saddam Hussein, was, is, and always has been nothing more than a computer program. Surprised? Good, I say. You don't think I hold off on telling you all this shit simply because it slipped my mind, do you? I get my jollies watching your jaw drop, friend.
Has anyone ever seen the movie Virtuosity? Of course not. Some would chalk this up to the film being predictable and fairly empty of any real enjoyment, but I say this underestimates the part played by the American government to make the movie go unseen. The film is a roundabout way to propose that many of our society's villains are nothing more than distracting computer creations, and it took a lot of government operatives countless hours to make the film so utterly forgettable as to slip through the box office cracks unnoticed. But there was good reason for all the time spent doing so.
If we open ourselves up to the possibility that one villain is really just a souped-up Atari made to look like Russell Crowe doing a decent American accent, where do we stop questioning everything? Consider this: Have you ever been in a room with Saddam Hussein, the actual man? I didn't think so. That should make it abundantly doubtful a real Saddam Hussein even exists.
Everyone knows Iraq was only targeted by the military for one reason, and that's oil; this is only up for debate by people who enjoy deceiving themselves about everything, such as the government has only altruistic motives, or J.A.G. is a really good show. In fact, whenever you hear a government official say they want to bring democracy to another country, it should automatically translate as they have natural resources vital to our economy and are holding out. Hence we decided to bring democracy to Iraq, in exchange for barrel upon barrel of yummy oil.
Of course, Iraq was a foreign culture and has virtually no strategic value, following that we have no enemy after the Soviet Union dismantled and had no strategy against no enemy. The original leaders of Iraq, looking pretty dopey and smiling all the time like they just squeezed out a silent fart, weren't much motivation for the American people to go to war. So the U.S. war machine created the Saddam Hussein computer program, based an old Abbot & Costello routine beloved by Sec. Jim Bakker. "Who's in charge of Egypt?" "Hussein." "I'm sayin', I want to know." Love that one.
But if you build a computer program too good, as any hack movie producer knows, it can develop its own intelligence and decide to take things over. Which is exactly what happened when we installed the Saddam Hussein program on Iraqi Amigas. Pretty soon we did have a Saddam Hussein threat to overthrow—our own. He even generated independently more pictures of George Bush's Uncle Herb in full Iraqi military guard and had him doing ridiculous Herb-like things, such as waving a shotgun around or reading threatening messages to the U.S. government in great big glasses from his underground bunker.
Keep in mind, I still think the Saddam Hussein program is a threat, and if one mainframe carrying the program survived the Baghdad bombing, the danger remains. But all of this could have been dealt with much quicker and efficiently by planting a virus in the Iraqi intranet, or installing Windows 2000 on one of the network computers. º Last Column: Roll On, Columbiaº more columns
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|  June 10, 2002
Keep Your Hands Off the President's MoneyOnce again the current political climate has brought out the worst in the spend-o-crats. In case you're thinking that's another name for a real political party, don't be stupid. It's my funny way of saying Democrats that makes all my fans hoot and holler and make farting noises in approval. They know what I know—the spend-o-crats just like to spend our money on useless socialist programs, money that could be much better spent on bombers and tanks.
As my die-hard fans know, I decided to go into the job of professional right-wing personality when listening to the radio one day and hearing an out-of-context quote from that hippie socialist Robert Redford about how if we took all the money we were using to kill people overseas we could use that money to feed those same people. And I'm thinking, of course, "Cu-ckoo!" Am I right, readers? Why in the name of Jeepers H. Crackers would we want to feed the people we're trying to kill? What a spend-o-crat! The idiot totally doesn't get the idea of warfare. Unless maybe he was talking about poisoning the food we give the enemy or something, which I don't agree with. It's much more civil to shoot someone in the face than poison them.
I knew at that moment I could be a spokesperson for the "unpopular" view in Hollywood. I began to appear on radio programs, blowing away my opponents and sounding very handsome indeed. I would go on television programs, where I overcame the natural disadvantage of how I really...
º Last Column: I Haven't Laughed that Hard Since Mom Killed Dad
º more columns
Once again the current political climate has brought out the worst in the spend-o-crats. In case you're thinking that's another name for a real political party, don't be stupid. It's my funny way of saying Democrats that makes all my fans hoot and holler and make farting noises in approval. They know what I know—the spend-o-crats just like to spend our money on useless socialist programs, money that could be much better spent on bombers and tanks.
As my die-hard fans know, I decided to go into the job of professional right-wing personality when listening to the radio one day and hearing an out-of-context quote from that hippie socialist Robert Redford about how if we took all the money we were using to kill people overseas we could use that money to feed those same people. And I'm thinking, of course, "Cu-ckoo!" Am I right, readers? Why in the name of Jeepers H. Crackers would we want to feed the people we're trying to kill? What a spend-o-crat! The idiot totally doesn't get the idea of warfare. Unless maybe he was talking about poisoning the food we give the enemy or something, which I don't agree with. It's much more civil to shoot someone in the face than poison them.
I knew at that moment I could be a spokesperson for the "unpopular" view in Hollywood. I began to appear on radio programs, blowing away my opponents and sounding very handsome indeed. I would go on television programs, where I overcame the natural disadvantage of how I really look to out-argue such spend-o-crat linguistic acrobats as Pamela Anderson and Carrot Top. Slowly, one by one, I built up not only my following, but also my '83 Imapala's engine. Now I drive from city to city, lecturing to sold-out crowds of wealthy people who like to have what they already know reinforced by expensive speakers. And I make a pretty penny doing so, let me tell you! It's the American way.
But that doesn't give me the right to relax and let any nobody who happens to have a congressional job tell the president how to spend his money. And once again those spend-o-crats are going back on their word. They promised W. (my little nickname for him) that they would go all the way on this War on Terror, and like a scared teen-age girl who changes her mind at the last minute, they need a little coercing. That's what I'm writing about.
The spend-o-crats approved the War on Terror months ago, when it was a popular idea and the right thing to do. They knew if they didn't, if their stupid liberal pacifism showed its ugly head at that time, they would be ousted right from office by the public! I'm not sure exactly how that would be done, I'm not an expert on the law, the constitution, or how the government works in any fashion, but by God, we would have done it. Now that the war's been going a little slow they figure they can flip-flop and talk about spending that War on Terror money on domestic issues. I say to hell with that! That's War on Terror money! If I were the president (God willing, someday) I'd chew on that money like a dog with a bone. "No ya don't! That's my Terror money! Get off, bitch!" Though maybe without the street lingo.
And though nobody likes an argument, except most of us, the president knows darn well he has to be firm and unyielding with those War on Terror funds. The spend-o-crats gave 'em, now they can't take 'em back. You know what we call those people? Indian spend-o-crats. Or injun take-backers. Drunken redskin bastards. Something truly offensive to Indians. I say don't take it, W. We started out to level and destroy any country that doesn't like us, that's what the War on Terror's about, and by golly, we need to stay with it. Even if it means Iraq or Iran is next. And hopefully, eventually, France. º Last Column: I Haven't Laughed that Hard Since Mom Killed Dadº more columns
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Quote of the Day“Discretion is the better of valor, and the first thirty minutes of Saving Private Ryan much better than any of the rest of it.”
-Crazy Eddie ShakespeareFortune 500 CookieIt's time you leave your job, 'cause they're going to fire you tomorrow. If you're ever cornered by a bear, hang your lunch in the tree and pretend you have Tourette's. She sells seashells by the sea shore, which is an incredibly bad market to unload those things. Duck, duck—goose. Lucky numbers all negative.
Try again later.Top More Things to Do With a Severed Finger| 1. | Donate it to shop teachers in need | | 2. | Really get your waiter's attention | | 3. | Confuse the hell out of C.S.I. | | 4. | Pick your friends and your nose | | 5. | Dip it in gold; make yourself an "I'm # 1" award | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 8/4/2003 Well how the hell are ya, America? Excuse my saucy tone, but I'm fuckin' smashed. That's right… wait, what were we talking about? Movies! Blow 'em out your ass, America! I'm fuckin' sick of movies, this week we're going to review vegetables. Cucumbers! Radishes! En… Endives! Yeah!
Alright, smartass, I'm out of vegetables. Here's your goddamn movies:
In Theaters
American Wedding
A formerly hardass franchise has gone all Friends on us, ladies and gentlemen. Hollywood's obese felines are betting you'll slap down your hard-earned pesos to watch these dirtballs get hitched, and I say screw 'em! Screw 'em and their imported water. If I wanted to see somebody stick their...
Well how the hell are ya, America? Excuse my saucy tone, but I'm fuckin' smashed. That's right… wait, what were we talking about? Movies! Blow 'em out your ass, America! I'm fuckin' sick of movies, this week we're going to review vegetables. Cucumbers! Radishes! En… Endives! Yeah!
Alright, smartass, I'm out of vegetables. Here's your goddamn movies:
In Theaters
American Wedding
A formerly hardass franchise has gone all Friends on us, ladies and gentlemen. Hollywood's obese felines are betting you'll slap down your hard-earned pesos to watch these dirtballs get hitched, and I say screw 'em! Screw 'em and their imported water. If I wanted to see somebody stick their dick in a wedding cake I would have gone to my cousin Dave's wedding last month. So let me be the first to add this movie to my list of things we're all boycotting: Pizza Hut, the boyscouts and this movie. Oh, and vegetables. Fuck vegetables. You heard it here first.
Fucking Friday
Jamie Lee Curtis and some anonymous tampon star in this triple-hashed remake of all those "Dad woke up with his teenage son's boner" movies from the 80's. Only now it's a mother and daughter sharing the misery, and it's not a onetime deal, but rather a once-a-week hassle that the family has come to know derisively as Fucking Friday. The expected faux-hilarity ensues, with daughter getting hot flashes and mom getting hot pants, blah blah blah. The bulk of the film consists of queasy sequences featuring mom being pawed by underage slobs with beer on their breath and daughter air-sickness bagging her way through routine, mechanical sex with dad, both of which I sincerely could have done without. Somebody actually found Mark Harmon buried in the wreck of the Lusitania and dug him up to co-star as the hot neighbor who may or may not have mind-switched with a two-year-old Latino boy. They must have figured Harmon had the necessary experience with catastrophes, but at least the first time around he probably got some decent seafood.
Gigli
With his latest picture, Ben Affleck proves he's whiter than any of us could have possibly imagined, despite his current marital status as a lemur clinging tenaciously to Jennifer Lopez's ass. Affleck plays Larry Gigli, a walking punchline whose constant references to "gettin' Gigli wit it" demonstrate that Affleck can't even appropriate faux-black culture from Will Smith, of all people. Thankfully, J-Lo sings a song on the soundtrack, so maximum camp value is achieved, allowing audiences to enjoy the film on an ironic level even if they like acting and music.
The Secret Lives of Dennis
Who out there among you didn't think it was too late for a Head of the Class spin-off movie? Okay, that's not many hands, but I'll assume that's because not many of you foresaw the possibility, or even recall the show from your cocaine-encrusted chest of 80's memories. For those of you that did think a spin-off was a good idea, wouldn't you have spun off a movie around rebel loner Eric or even geek chic Arvid? Okay, you guys with your hands still up are just fucking with me, go on home and quit busting my balls. As for the rest of you, were you really thinking of going to this movie? Good God man, don't you have some chores to do? Stay home and spellcheck your suicide note or something, for the love of all that is holy.
S.W.A.T.
The latest Playstation game to skip the Playstation and come straight to the theater is a loose (and I mean like the cousin that let you feel her up at the family reunion loose) sequel to the 1994 Stephen "Midget Golfer" Dorf flick S.F.W.. This is not to be confused with the Bridget "Anaconda" Fonda handjob S.W.F. (Super White Female) or the Three Stooges flick W.F.S. (Where the Fuck is Shep?). Since the original wasn't actually about anything, the producers had the leeway to build the sequel from the ground up, and to give the franchise a kick in the ass by making it a blaxploitation thrill ride. As with the original, the American public was deemed too square to be exposed to this film's title in its full glory (Some White-Ass Turkeys), but savvy filmgoers should know without being told that Samuel L. Jackson wouldn't get mixed up in another lame movie about the actual S.W.A.T. team, not after The Negotiator. Though he did still manage to walk into a door frame by not demanding that the screenwriter change his character's name from Hohmo, I can't help but think that's going to get more laughs than any of the actual jokes in the picture.
Alright, everybody out unless they want Bacardi on their pants! You got your movies, now leave Uncle Roland to drown his sorrows in a kiddie pool full of inexpensive rum. Check back in another two weeks, but if nobody answers when you knock then just dream up your own pithy comments for once. Lazy bastards.    |
