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Gore Wouldn't Run Again For a Million, Trillion Dollars August 18, 2003 |
Washington, D.C. Alton Onus Presidential non-candidate Al Gore demonstrates how he’d rather be kicked in the balls than run again
“I wouldn’t run for president again for a million, trillion dollars,” Gore told reporters last December. “Nor for all the tea in China.”
”Not even for true love?” a reporter questioned.
“No,” answered Gore. “Not even for that.”
However, Gore did concede later that if this reporter was holding a gun to the head of an innocent newborn baby, he might consider it. Though...
he anemic field of Democratic candidates, described by political pundits as “what the A-team would be like if it was really gay,” has inspired many Democrats to push for another Al Gore candidacy in 2004. Perhaps not grasping the ramifications of four more years with Boy George at the helm, thus far the former vice-president has steadfastly refused. “I wouldn’t run for president again for a million, trillion dollars,” Gore told reporters last December. “Nor for all the tea in China.” ”Not even for true love?” a reporter questioned. “No,” answered Gore. “Not even for that.” However, Gore did concede later that if this reporter was holding a gun to the head of an innocent newborn baby, he might consider it. Though he did seem a little weirded out by the question. Recent polls in New Hampshire show that if Gore were to enter the race for the Democratic Party nomination, he would immediately become the front-runner in that state. These polls showed that the same also holds true for Hillary Rodham Clinton, George Clinton, and Kool-Aid Man, the gigantic pitcher of powdered beverage famous for busting through walls and responding in the affirmative. Various Democratic candidates have denounced the poll as mean, but true. Speaking with the commune this week, Gore’s position on his potential candidacy remained unchanged. “Would you, could you, if it rained?” this reporter asked the non-candidate. “I would not, could not if it rained,” responded Gore. “Nor if my brain had gone insane. I meant what I said and I said what I meant: I will not run for president! Now leave me be!” Other scenarios that would fail to entice Gore to run include learning the secrets behind various Carly Simon songs, a blimp full of naked cheerleaders landing in his backyard, or having a southern state renamed Goregia. Several political commentators have suggested that Gore would prefer to go down in history as the man who was denied the presidency by an antiquated electoral system and corrupt election officials in Florida, rather than risk losing a second election to a man who has been amply exposed as one of the less-memorable bit characters on Dukes of Hazzard. Those who know Gore dismiss this idea as absurd, though they could totally see Bush giving the Duke boys the what-for. Gore supporters suggest instead that the former vice-president simply doesn’t wish to subject the public to a Gore v. Bush rematch, or spend the next year of his life debating with a man who moves his lips when he reads. the commune news has conducted an in-office poll which shows Pamela Anderson as the most appealing Democratic candidate, though other media organizations have been slow to pick up on this story. Lil Duncan considered running for office when she heard the other candidates were accused of back-room deals, but this turned out to be something different than what she’d imagined.
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Martha Stewart defense makes witness into decorative tea cozy
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Pope Swears God Will Punish Drug Dealers With Poor-Quality Shit Vintage Dell to Grace Smithsonian's New What the Fuck Were We Thinking? Wing Isaac Hayes Recognized on Bad Mother’s Day 'Paris Hilton Autopsy' Sculpture Signed to Three-Picture Deal |
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 December 22, 2003
Come on, I Told Them, Ba-Rump Ba Bump BumIt's the holiday time here at Child Star headquarters, and that always means one thing: I'm fucked.
Yep, our annual tradition of me being fucked is steady and true on this end. It turns out they lost the house, mom and dad. I kept telling them you have to pay for a house even when you're not living in it, you can't just come back there and live in it any time you want. On the plus side, it's the first argument I've ever won.
Regardless of how it happened, Christmas is being held in my apartment this year, by default. Who needed that headache? As if seeing these people one time every year wasn't enough psychological damage.
I tried to get into the spirit, I honestly did. I even started drinking bourbon the day after Thanksgiving, like dad always does, only I didn't do it right up until Thanksgiving like he does. It was a nice relaxer, I almost didn't even freak out when they dragged in the top of that Rockefeller Plaza Christmas tree in here. I don't care if it's so big they'll never notice the top is gone, dad, it doesn't make it right. The thing won't even fit through the door.
I made him take it back and got that plastic tree. Dad went all "real tree" on us a few years back, so fortunately I had the plastic one from when we were growing up. I didn't even notice it was made out of recycled army men he burned together until I was about 9 or 10, and by then I was so cynical I didn't even believe in Santa. But besides the...
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It's the holiday time here at Child Star headquarters, and that always means one thing: I'm fucked.
Yep, our annual tradition of me being fucked is steady and true on this end. It turns out they lost the house, mom and dad. I kept telling them you have to pay for a house even when you're not living in it, you can't just come back there and live in it any time you want. On the plus side, it's the first argument I've ever won.
Regardless of how it happened, Christmas is being held in my apartment this year, by default. Who needed that headache? As if seeing these people one time every year wasn't enough psychological damage.
I tried to get into the spirit, I honestly did. I even started drinking bourbon the day after Thanksgiving, like dad always does, only I didn't do it right up until Thanksgiving like he does. It was a nice relaxer, I almost didn't even freak out when they dragged in the top of that Rockefeller Plaza Christmas tree in here. I don't care if it's so big they'll never notice the top is gone, dad, it doesn't make it right. The thing won't even fit through the door.
I made him take it back and got that plastic tree. Dad went all "real tree" on us a few years back, so fortunately I had the plastic one from when we were growing up. I didn't even notice it was made out of recycled army men he burned together until I was about 9 or 10, and by then I was so cynical I didn't even believe in Santa. But besides the sharp points and the horrid misery of war we're constantly reminded of when we look at it, it's a charming little tree.
Then I saw this after school special where this kid made his own Christmas presents for everyone and they all said they liked them more than if he had bought them—suckers! Wow, that shit is rich. Some dildo totally stiffs you on presents and hands you some shit he made at a county fair table and you bawl all over it and even give him a little pity. I said I got to try that. My only problem was I don't make anything too good, a few pounds of crystal meth and fine-cut heroin, maybe, but that's hard to wrap. Plus, dad's on probation, and he may be a pain in the ass, but he's still my dad and I don't want him getting fucked by some "3 strikes" rule.
So I decided to make everybody hatracks. But I kind of came out the loser in the end, since we only had one broom and that's what I make hatracks out of. I had to steal the commune's broom (the mop was some foreign guy who made a lousy hatrack) and still that left me having to buy extra brooms just to make a hatrack. I could have just given brooms as a gift, I didn't come out ahead at all. Oh, shit! I just now thought I could have stolen the commune hatrack. That would have been sweet. What was that guy's name anyway? Paulo?
The big news, what may make all this hooplah worth it, my sister and her butch friend Steve said they were coming over for Christmas dinner. My sister might bluff her way out of dinner with my parents, but she never lies, so I have a good feeling about it. They've never met Steve before either (she insists her name is "Stephan," but you look at her sometime and call it) so I guess they'll be getting a big serving of "your daughter's a lesbian" for Christmas. Then again, Steve isn't the most feminine of broads, so maybe the whole thing will go undetected.
Of course, there could be a major free-for-all between my sister and Steve and my parents. What do you know, I'm getting in the Christmas mood already. º Last Column: Enter the Shopperº more columns
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|  May 12, 2003
Volume 42Dear commune:
Well, she’s all you’d ever want, she’s the kind I’d like to flaunt and take to dinner. She always knows her place, she’s got style, she’s got grace, she’s a winner. She’s a lady. Talking about Ivana Folger-Balzac here. I’ve heard all I need to, so when are you guys going to hook me up with her phone number? No fair keeping the gems all to yourselves, men of the commune. Don’t make me scale the walls of your fortress of isolation with my footstool of love, dudes. Time to share the wealth.
Sincerely,
Ronald Berkwitz
Shady Grove, CT
Dear Ronald:
Well, she’s a frigid ball-breaking bitch, an iron hook to scratch your itch, she’s a harpie. She’s a plague you’ll never shake, a turd baked in your birthday cake, she smells carpy. In addition we’d like to add that she’s a maneater. Still, we’re going to grant your wish and pass on that number Ronald, since we don’t like you and we’ll pull just about any low kind of shit to get rid of her by now. However we’re going to need you to sign a legal release of some sort, since we don’t want to be charged with manslaughter again. Talk about a way to ruin a perfectly good summer, jeez. So Ronald, in closing, we’d like to say good luck to you and start running now, you poor fucker.
the...
º Last Column: Volume 41
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Dear commune: Well, she’s all you’d ever want, she’s the kind I’d like to flaunt and take to dinner. She always knows her place, she’s got style, she’s got grace, she’s a winner. She’s a lady. Talking about Ivana Folger-Balzac here. I’ve heard all I need to, so when are you guys going to hook me up with her phone number? No fair keeping the gems all to yourselves, men of the commune. Don’t make me scale the walls of your fortress of isolation with my footstool of love, dudes. Time to share the wealth. Sincerely, Ronald Berkwitz
Shady Grove, CT Dear Ronald:
Well, she’s a frigid ball-breaking bitch, an iron hook to scratch your itch, she’s a harpie. She’s a plague you’ll never shake, a turd baked in your birthday cake, she smells carpy. In addition we’d like to add that she’s a maneater. Still, we’re going to grant your wish and pass on that number Ronald, since we don’t like you and we’ll pull just about any low kind of shit to get rid of her by now. However we’re going to need you to sign a legal release of some sort, since we don’t want to be charged with manslaughter again. Talk about a way to ruin a perfectly good summer, jeez. So Ronald, in closing, we’d like to say good luck to you and start running now, you poor fucker.
the commune
Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for oh, I don’t know. Porcupines. Yeah, just try to pin that porcupine bullshit on us. We dare you.º Last Column: Volume 41º more columns
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Quote of the Day“If you're not a liberal when you're 25, you have no heart. If you're not a conservative by the time you're 35, you have no inheritance. Die already, Uncle Franco… just… die.”
-Winthrop ShurikenFortune 500 CookieWho's the man? More specifically, who's the man who shattered your kneecap with a club and took you out of the competition? Now would be a good time to switch to NetFlix from your previous practice of watching the movie on the video store display TVs. Keep your eye on the sparrow. Lucky jeans: Levi, Bugle Boy, Lee, and Auel.
Try again later.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | Abe Lincoln: Tall Motherfucker | | 2. | Michael Jackson's Dating Tips | | 3. | The Dog Did It: A Dummy's Guide to Solar Wind | | 4. | Uncle Macho's Pepperoni Puree | | 5. | A Tedious Summation of All Your Flaws: Past, Present and Future | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 7/22/2002 Hey Hey Hey Hey, Kansas City!
Wait, come back! That was a joke. I know it's you, America. Roland McS here with the word on the street, or at least the street right in front of the movie theater. Most of the time that's not a real street, at least they don't give it a name, it's just considered part of the parking lot or whatever. It'd be more fun if it had a real street name, but then you could probably get a traffic ticket for driving up onto the sidewalk when you're in a hurry or popping a wheelie to impress the girls waiting out front for their dad to buy them tickets. So, when it's all been said and done, it's probably for the best that things are the way they are. Speaking of the way things are, Hollywood has come through for us again with another batch of movies to...
Hey Hey Hey Hey, Kansas City!
Wait, come back! That was a joke. I know it's you, America. Roland McS here with the word on the street, or at least the street right in front of the movie theater. Most of the time that's not a real street, at least they don't give it a name, it's just considered part of the parking lot or whatever. It'd be more fun if it had a real street name, but then you could probably get a traffic ticket for driving up onto the sidewalk when you're in a hurry or popping a wheelie to impress the girls waiting out front for their dad to buy them tickets. So, when it's all been said and done, it's probably for the best that things are the way they are. Speaking of the way things are, Hollywood has come through for us again with another batch of movies to tickle our fancy or possibly our barf reflex. Let's take a look at the ragtag bunch shuffling into theaters this week, shall we?
In Theaters
Blue Crush
They always told her she'd never grow up to be a successful soda company executive, she always said she'd prove them wrong. They were right, and her "innovative" spin on Orange Crush goes over like a lead balloon filled with New Coke. Back to the bike shop with you, missy. A decent message picture that teaches Generation Ysters the valuable lesson that dreams are for people who never get invited to parties.
The Country Bears
You've all seen this story before, Papa City Bear gets an itch up his ass about bonding with the family's country cousins from Mobile, so he arranges for them to spend a summer in the city. Supposed hilarity ensues when these Merle Haggard-listening hayseeds butt heads with big-city socialites and try to crap in urinals or whatever. Love and understanding ensue, and room is left open for a The City Bears sequel where the situation is reversed and the urban bears learn that a bear really does crap in the woods. Feh. Worst bear movie since Yogi & Boo Boo in Compton.
Eight Legged Freaks
Conventional wisdom suggests that they could have come up with a better title for this En Vogue rocumentary, but I'll give them the benefit of the doubt here. I didn't even know these gals were still around, so I'll give them credit for not titling their movie Back in Black or anything tasteless like that. They surely would have caught more flack for that than Burger King did for naming it's new burger The Black Stack. As if that didn't sound nasty enough on it's own. Anyway, this movie's basically one long runway sequence with catfights and some singing. Not too painful.
Halloween: Resuscitation
Apparently there was one blonde EMT bimbo left on the planet who hadn't learned the lesson that if a bunch of teenagers just spent two hours hacking up a dude with an axe, driving stakes through his heart and trying to blow his shit up with a flamethrower, you might want to ask some questions before you start in with the CPR. Alas, Mike Myers and the rest of the world have that broke-knecked floozy to blame for this dry and chewy sequel that's about as much fun as being dragged through an entire hospital by your catheter. Also, look for that gag to pop up in the next sequel. You heard it here first.
Signs
Don't get me wrong or make me out to be some kind of hater, you know I'm all about that badass chick from the Johnny Cougar video, Me'Shyamalan NidgeOcello directing her own movies. And I thought The Sixth Seal was as cool as a penguin's furless sack, but if I have to hear that godawful Tesla song one more time, I swear I'm going to cave in some poor sucker's brain pan. I'm just saying, that's all.
That's all for now, America the Beautiful! Especially the half of America that doesn't pee standing up. That's the beautiful half I think they're talking about when they say that. We'll be back in two weeks with another fix of the good stuff. The good stuff being the Entertainment Police, in case you were wondering. And the "we" being you, America, and me, Roland. Just in case you were starting to worry that I was referring to myself in the plural. That's only funny when crazy people do it.
Until then!   |
