| Loves That Woman ';
$dunkin='2005/0905/';
$dunkintitle='The New Anne Frank Diary';
$edit='2003/1222/';
$fanmail='2005/0516/';
$fanmailtitle='Volume 63';
$finger='2005/0905/';
$fingertitle='I’m Fresh Out of Haitian Cigarettes';
$fortune='2002/020121/';
$goocher='2005/0711/';
$goochertitle='Gwar of the Worlds';
$hanes='2005/0704/';
$hanestitle='Pink is Not for Men';
$hartwig='2005/0606/';
$hartwigtitle='Parade';
$hooper='2005/0228/';
$hoopertitle='Vernon Hooper’s Fifth Syphilis';
$hurley='2005/0404/';
$hurleytitle='Time of Healing';
$kroeger='2005/0822/';
$kroegertitle='Charity Case';
$loser='2005/0822/';
$losertitle='Lost Leavings';
$ned='2003/0818/';
$nedtitle='Cyantology';
$pickle='2002/020513/';
$pickletitle='State of the Art';
$poet='2005/0905/';
$police='2005/0905/';
$polio='2005/0905/';
$poliotitle='Omarelief';
$rent='2005/0829/';
$renttitle='I’m Not that Big a Fan of Talking';
$reynolds='2005/0425/';
$reynoldstitle='A Series of Unfortunate Evans';
$hartwig='2004/1206/';
$hartwigtitle='O Captain!';
$sickhead='2004/0419/';
$sickheadtitle='The Legendary Spot of Coco Hobari McSteve';
$ted='2005/0530/';
$tedtitle='The New War on Poverty';
$vanslyke='2005/0606/';
$vanslyketitle='Health Food is Full of Shit';
$zender='2005/0425/';
$zendertitle='The Sixth commune Enthusiasts Club Meeting';
?> | 
 March 17, 2003 |
Kuwait City, Kuwait Junior Bacon Probably war imagined to look something like this, if you pretend the football is a grenade and the sock is an Iraqi weapons facility.
The hypothetical war came after months of accusations from the Bush administration that Iraqi president Saddam Hussein was harboring biological weapons and had the potential to create weapons of mass destruction. The debate deteriorated in recent months into press bytes back and forth between the countries as Bush attempted to curry favor with the U.N. and receive backing for military action in accor...
ast-minute attempts at peaceful resolutions having likely failed, the United States presumably entered into war with Iraq again Monday, March 17 at some undisclosed time in the day. Though the information has yet to be verified, it is supported by popular opinion, with degrees of variation on the exact time and date, March 17 being the earliest estimation and March 19 the latest.
The hypothetical war came after months of accusations from the Bush administration that Iraqi president Saddam Hussein was harboring biological weapons and had the potential to create weapons of mass destruction. The debate deteriorated in recent months into press bytes back and forth between the countries as Bush attempted to curry favor with the U.N. and receive backing for military action in accordance with resolutions Iraq signed after cessation of the Gulf War, also known as "Bush Vs. Iraq: Round 1" among funnier members of the staff.
The preceding week brought the tension to full as Bush, responding to the irritation of the American people, announced a March 17 deadline for Iraq to disarm its real or imaginary weapons and the administration haggled with opposing members of the U.N. security counsel for approval to the deadline. As Saddam Hussein had yet to meet the ambiguous guidelines of the deadline date, it is 99.9% probable that the United States felt no recourse but to begin war with Iraq on March 17.
All signs point to elongated periods of carpet bombings of marked Iraqi weapons sites, with claims of civilian casualties by Iraq already supposedly rising as the U.S. undoubtedly insisted all targets are verified as weapons facilities. If all goes according to military plans established months ago, bombing most likely will cease around March 19 as troops move in for implied ground war.
Though U.S. opinion will be mixed, the majority of Americans will most likely support the war with the assumption its unpatriotic to disagree in a time of war. After weeks of continued warfare with reassurance from the president U.S. troops are making progress in their goals, the larger population will tire of the war news and urge the president to resolve the whole mess quicker, sparking claims that while Saddam Hussein has presumably not been removed from power, objectives to locate and disarm weapons as a greater goal have been successful, and Saddam Hussein can be hobbled permanently by sanctions and treaties.
Without a doubt, the price tag for the war will have dug the United States deeper into debt and made the outlook for the economy bleaker, which the Democratic candidates for the presidency will jump on despite their expressions of approval for the war during its time. As jobs disappear and wages continue to drop, the approval rating for the Bush administration will reach all-time lows, despite achieving near-record highs during late 2001 to early 2003. All attempts to turn attention to domestic issues will come too late and Americans will join in bitter debates with each other as the country probably grows even more divisive, yet in an extremely close presidential election in 2004 the as-yet-unnamed Democratic candidate will win the electoral college vote by a significant margin, while the disparity in the popular vote, while still in his or her favor, will be much closer.
Theoretical details of long-term side-effects of American soldiers exposed to the irradiated munitions of their weapons could not be hypothesized at press time. Further information will come as clearer patterns of repetition emerge. the commune news is here to blow your mind and your mainframe. Ivan Nacutchacokov is the commune's foreign correspondent and has probably taken care of most of his news articles for the next couple of years—he's outta here, folks.
 |
Ring tones changed again on personal Cruise cell phone
Paul Giamatti snubbed in "Sexiest Man Alive" contest
Documents reveal NASA sealing shuttle gas tank with oily rag
Whale-dolphin hybrid born to overeager whale, traumatized dolphin
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Officials to Celebrities: Please Get Out of New Orleans isaster-relief officials in New Orleans made a stern announcement today to the thousands of celebrities descending upon the devastated city in hopes of providing humanitarian aid in exchange for career-boosting photo ops: We’re serious; you really need to leave now. “We’ve got to get these fucking celebrities out of New Orleans,” sighed an exasperated Lt. Mark Bolio of the Army’s 92nd Airborne. “They’re drinking up all our bottled water and bitching about the catering all day.” The influx of famous faces has weighed as a heavy burden on officials who have spent the last week scrambling to get everyone out of the city-shaped deathtrap. Receding water levels have exposed a nightmare world of toxic contamination, with nearly the entire city soaking in deadly levels of E. coli bacteria, lead, crude oil, PCBs, asbestos, leptospirosis, battery acid, herbicides, raw sewage, DDT, snakes, and according to at least one local, cooties. After busting a nut trying to remove the bulk of New Orleans’ stubbornly entrenched locals, many of whom refused to leave their pets or belongings, the Army was not prepared to deal with the celebrity occupation. Wisconsin Man Takes in Jazz Band he whole nation wants to do their part to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina, but a Madison, Wisconsin man is doing so much he makes all the other volunteers and charity donors look like dried puke. For Albert Pohl Martinson hasn’t merely taken in three or four family members or refugees from New Orleans: He’s taken in a whole jazz band. “I just wanted to do what I could,” Martinson told a deluge of fawning media standing on his front lawn. “So I said I would take in the first group of refugees I could. I sent them bus tickets and had them carted up here immediately. And then, being a good citizen, I called the local news to make sure they were informed.” However, Martinson didn’t stop and giving the 5-man combo all the food, shelter, and clean water they needed; he also bought them sparkling fresh instruments so they could take their mind off their troubles. Serial Killer’s Neighbor: “He just wouldn’t shut up about serial killing.” Heather Graham’s Career Found Dead in Apartment |
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| 
 May 2, 2005
Every Team Stinks This YearI knew one of these seasons it would happen, and that day is finally here: Every team in Major League Baseball stinks this year. Just plain stinks, every last one of them. Sure, somebody still has to win every game, but this year it's less about winning and more about not losing quite as badly as the other team. And I don't have to tell you it's as painful to watch as the rodeo at the Special Olympics.
Granted, some fans see fit to remind me that it's still early in the season, and that for at least a few teams, early suckocity will be transformed into mere mediocrity by season's end. But I don't buy it. Suck is a stink that stays on you for months, if not years, like gas station cologne. And this year, the entire league stinks like "Consternation for Men."
The bitterest part of this pill is the fact that at least a couple of these teams were supposed to be half-way decent this year. The Red Sox just won the World Series, for crying out loud, giving their fans unprecedented high hopes about not having their whole miserable lives remind them of smoking a turd like a cigar for a few short months this season. So naturally, they turned around and "re-vamped" their pitching staff by signing one guy most known for a goatee that looks like a thatched doormat and another so old and out of shape that he recently went on the disabled list with a pulled finger. And the Sox had to fire their team doctor after learning that Curt Shilling made it through last...
º Last Column: That's the Last Time I Go into a Coma in October
º more columns
I knew one of these seasons it would happen, and that day is finally here: Every team in Major League Baseball stinks this year. Just plain stinks, every last one of them. Sure, somebody still has to win every game, but this year it's less about winning and more about not losing quite as badly as the other team. And I don't have to tell you it's as painful to watch as the rodeo at the Special Olympics.
Granted, some fans see fit to remind me that it's still early in the season, and that for at least a few teams, early suckocity will be transformed into mere mediocrity by season's end. But I don't buy it. Suck is a stink that stays on you for months, if not years, like gas station cologne. And this year, the entire league stinks like "Consternation for Men."
The bitterest part of this pill is the fact that at least a couple of these teams were supposed to be half-way decent this year. The Red Sox just won the World Series, for crying out loud, giving their fans unprecedented high hopes about not having their whole miserable lives remind them of smoking a turd like a cigar for a few short months this season. So naturally, they turned around and "re-vamped" their pitching staff by signing one guy most known for a goatee that looks like a thatched doormat and another so old and out of shape that he recently went on the disabled list with a pulled finger. And the Sox had to fire their team doctor after learning that Curt Shilling made it through last year's postseason on an ankle held together with glitter glue and spunk. Gross, I know, and I didn't even tell you whose spunk it was.
But truly nobody can statutorily rape high hopes like the New York Yankees. Fielding a team so expensive and inept it should qualify as a socialist government program, the Yankees seem determined to prove just how much caviar a drunk can barf up on the national stage this year. Some see this as the inevitable result of the team's policy about not signing any players who are too young to remember M.A.S.H., but personally I'm more likely to blame it on the fact that the team's run by a character from Seinfeld. Learn your history, folks. That never ends well.
Who else is sucking? Take your pick. The Cubs? Like you needed to ask about the Cubs. That team could field an entire roster of Jesus Christ clones and still find a way to have the whole lot of them go down with sandal splints and blown elbows from high blessing counts and excessive water-to-wine conversions. They've got the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost all on the 60-day disabled list, and I don't think the Holy Ghost will even be back for next season.
Houston's entire team has been too focused on the Social Security debate to keep their minds on the game at all this season, and San Francisco has been crippled by the fact that they traded the best closer in the game for a catcher who could get kicked out of the Hell's Angels for being an asshole. Also, they just got news that doctors found a Fraggle living in Bonds' left knee. I don't know what that says about the whole steroid debate, but those designer Jim Henson Mupplements he's been taking are starting to look mighty suspicious.
Washington? The joke this year is that they gave Washington a team, but haven't given them any equipment yet. Still, those guys are doing pretty well considering they've been using milk cartons for gloves and are playing in their street clothes. Minnesota fell for the old "The season starts on May 1st" gag again this year, so they're already twenty games back, with some serious catching up to do. Atlanta? Fags. Sorry, but they are a bunch of fags. Read the team's press kit if you don't believe me. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Sure, a few teams may have decent records so far, but don't kid yourself. The Dodgers? The White Sox? Check the records a little closer guys, it wouldn't surprise me if at least one of those teams was being run like Enron and is just writing off dozens of losses as "extended spring training" or some other dodge. You'll know I'm right if they're still 16-6 in August.
But contrary to what some may assume, you won't hear me complaining about the state of things. Not more than usual anyway. I actually kind of like it when teams suck major egg, as a fan it gives you more to talk about. Blathering on about who's pitching great or who just hit a home run so far it killed a hang glider gets real old, real fast. But the details of pathetic performance can be dissected on into infinity with no loss of enjoyment. Just ask a Cubs fan. º Last Column: That's the Last Time I Go into a Coma in Octoberº more columns
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|  May 30, 2005
The New War on PovertyIt's about time to resume the "War on Poverty" that we started in the 1960's. And when I say "we," I mean soft-hearted liberals who needed a slogan for re-election. But this time, we do the War on Poverty right. I'm talking big guns.
After all, we can't eliminate poverty, any more than we can eliminate terror. That's been my objection to the president's War on Terror all along. And before you go thinking I've gone all NPR on you guys, that doesn't mean we should give up. Let's just refocus the War on Terror. Make it the War on Terrorists, which is what it already is. Wipe them all out from the face of the earth—if you're not wit' us, you're a'gin us. And that's what we got to do with the War on Poverty: Wipe out the impoverished.
It doesn't have to be a hateful war, but we've got to get rid of them all the same. They're just going to drag us all down with them. And even if they don't, they'll still make our lives hell—asking for money, especially around the holidays, starring in documentaries that clog our independent theaters, and just generally hanging around and making us feel bad. We can't let them run our lives anymore. Wipe out the impoverished.
We can get it started it easy enough—since they don't have houses, we can find most of them out in the open, where they're easy to get at. Eventually, though, we'll have to take it to the next level. Hunt them down in the housing projects, in the trailer parks, even in the...
º Last Column: Queers Vote Kerry
º more columns
It's about time to resume the "War on Poverty" that we started in the 1960's. And when I say "we," I mean soft-hearted liberals who needed a slogan for re-election. But this time, we do the War on Poverty right. I'm talking big guns.
After all, we can't eliminate poverty, any more than we can eliminate terror. That's been my objection to the president's War on Terror all along. And before you go thinking I've gone all NPR on you guys, that doesn't mean we should give up. Let's just refocus the War on Terror. Make it the War on Terrorists, which is what it already is. Wipe them all out from the face of the earth—if you're not wit' us, you're a'gin us. And that's what we got to do with the War on Poverty: Wipe out the impoverished.
It doesn't have to be a hateful war, but we've got to get rid of them all the same. They're just going to drag us all down with them. And even if they don't, they'll still make our lives hell—asking for money, especially around the holidays, starring in documentaries that clog our independent theaters, and just generally hanging around and making us feel bad. We can't let them run our lives anymore. Wipe out the impoverished.
We can get it started it easy enough—since they don't have houses, we can find most of them out in the open, where they're easy to get at. Eventually, though, we'll have to take it to the next level. Hunt them down in the housing projects, in the trailer parks, even in the mountains, where they're bunched up together 25-to-100 per house. Sure, my soft side wants to give them all a free ride, but it's by being pushovers we've been overrun with poverty all this time.
The best part is, we don't need a new army to do it. Put the police to work doing what they were originally created for anyway—to keep the poor out of our hair. But give them their teeth back, no more of this back-alley beating crap and telling people to "move along." We start the War on Poverty, I mean really start it, and the police can finally do what they were meant to do. Round 'em up and march 'em into the nearest large body of water. Or if that's too unsanitary, maybe launch them into space. Give them a chance to colonize a planet full of moochers and layabouts.
We'll need to set firm criteria so we don't have everybody out in the streets getting shot by people riding polo ponies and everything. Set a bottomline income bracket above which everyone gets to live, and then root out the nickel-and-dimeless. I used to think a metal detector of some sort would help find whose got money and who doesn't, but anybody walking around with pocket change is probably below the minimum income bracket, or just scraping together enough to stay above it.
People say I'm full of hate to suggest such a thing. I tell them to shut up before I choke them to death. Because I'm not full of hate. I just think everybody needs to pull their own weight, or pull whatever weight they're told to pull. The world needs workers and the world needs bosses. What they don't need is people who refuse to be either. I send my money to the government each week, and it's always more than I like, so they can keep the roads in good shape for me to drive on and to keep the kids from turning out retarded. Judging by the noise on the radio and the TV, I'm not sure that last part is working out. But I know I don't send my money to the government so we can support freeloaders, the infirm, or those who can't swing a hammer or a shovel or whatever for 8-12 hours a day. Or write a column, of course—angry columnists provide the most valuable service of all. º Last Column: Queers Vote Kerryº more columns
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Milestones1999: Rok Finger's highly offensive rendition of "White Christmas" marks the end of the commune's yearly Christmas parties, and the birth of the Parents Against Rok Finger Coalition (PARF).Now HiringRubik. Crazy puzzle-making hermit needed to devise a way to keep staff out of Red Bagel's mini-fridge. Knowledge of trap doors and spinning blades a plus.Most Troublesome Phrases for Adults Learning English| 1. | Fuck, your mother! | | 2. | I love hauling oats/I love Hall 'n Oates | | 3. | I have subpoenas for your wife/I have some penis for your wife | | 4. | The day goes by/The dagos buy | | 5. | Each hit, they caught Zucker/Eat shit, gay cocksucker | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 10/29/2001 Sweet Jesus America, are you back again already? It looks like Uncle Roland will have to dig deep into his bag of goodies for some tender morsels to keep you entertainment hounds happy! How about we start with everyone's favorite Quid Pro Bono, Ask Roland?
Q. I've been an avid fan of yours since back in your days of writing movie reviews for the Radio Shack employee newsletter, and even your brief stint as a film reviewer for Trucker Girls Magazine. Looking through my collection of your reviews recently, I was startled to discover that you gave "Cock-Gobbling Space Sluts" a four-star review when you were writing for TGM. Excuse me? Were we watching the same movie? Only a truly desperate fan of low-budget erotic science fiction comedies would find...
Sweet Jesus America, are you back again already? It looks like Uncle Roland will have to dig deep into his bag of goodies for some tender morsels to keep you entertainment hounds happy! How about we start with everyone's favorite Quid Pro Bono, Ask Roland?
Q. I've been an avid fan of yours since back in your days of writing movie reviews for the Radio Shack employee newsletter, and even your brief stint as a film reviewer for Trucker Girls Magazine. Looking through my collection of your reviews recently, I was startled to discover that you gave "Cock-Gobbling Space Sluts" a four-star review when you were writing for TGM. Excuse me? Were we watching the same movie? Only a truly desperate fan of low-budget erotic science fiction comedies would find this cavalcade of clearly faked Venusian orgasms and unconvincing prosthetic Martian hard-ons anything less than tiresome. And where's the internal logic? So the mischievous vibra-doodles need to hide in Linda Sproket's cleavage to survive the journey through deep space so they can sneak into Luke Dorkmer's pants, but Stud Astroglide and Gina Galaxy apparently don't need to breathe while copulating on the moon's barren surface? There's no air on the moon, Roland. Oh, and also, are there any plans in the works for a book of your movie reviews to be published?
Duke Rainfever, Lost Meadow, Maine
A. Thanks for the letter, Duke. It's always heartening, and a bit suffocating, to know you have fans who have been following your career so closely. I take it from your collection that you're both a Radio Shack employee and a frequent reader of Biker Girls Magazine, and from your return address stamp that you live in Maine. The question I have for you, Duke, is which set of fingerprints on the envelope are yours: the big, smudged greasy ones or the smaller, more delicate prints with the tighter swirls? I have a bet going with some friends at the FBI on this one—Christmas might come early for Roland this year! And lastly: Stay the hell out of my car.
Q. On a recent trip to the theater to see David Lynch's new romantic comedy "Mulholland Dive", I was plagued by one nagging question throughout the film's generous 400 minute running time. And that question is this: "What the fuck?". Thought maybe you could help, thanks.
Carny Viceroy, Tumult, Florida
A. Your question is an understandable one, Carny. There are two important things to remember when watching any David Lynch film. The first is that Lynch did a gargantuan quantity of drugs early in his career and is now considered to be mildly retarded. Did you ever see that "this is your brain on drugs" commercial several years back? They actually used David Lynch's brain for that commercial, no lie. As a result, Lynch's films are best enjoyed after drinking a bottle of shoe polish and setting your feet on fire, as the director intended. The second thing is that it's best to remember that all of Lynch's films are originally shot in Portuguese, underwater and backwards, then they are translated back by migrant workers, dubbed into English by the cast of "Saved by the Bell", run forward and spliced together with Mexican soap operas at random intervals. So to best follow a Lynch film, it's recommended that you have an illegal immigrant friend watch the film for you, then describe it to you through two tin cans attached by a waxed bit of string. If you missed any of those directions, don't worry. They're reprinted on the DVD packaging for "Lost Highway", which was actually about the Spanish Civil War.
Now for the movies!
In Theaters Now:
From Hell
Good God! This isn't the touching Christmas fable I remembered as a child! I think they've pulled a fast one on you and I, America.
Iron Monkey
A completely yawn-worth action epic that pits the Beastie Boys and their fake karate antics against a gang of futuristic numbskulls, set against the backdrop of a post-apocalyptic New Jersey suburb. What do you mean it's not post-apocalyptic?
Mulholland Drive
Confirmed nutbag director David Lynch finally teams up with an actor who's talents match and compliment his own: Sylvester Stallone. Sure, the movie is the same backwards mindfuck that Lynch's last 13 films have been (some say he never recovered from the intense drug-fueled filming schedule of his first hit, "Dumbo"), but finally we're given someone interesting to look at up on the screen while all of the Shriners are running around and playing croquet with Ann Margret's balls. Sly pulls off every albino midget enema scene with dignity and style, and he's got a skull that could stop a runaway trolley car to boot. I'm looking for these two to team up again, maybe on the next James Bond film if we're lucky.
Riding in Cars with Boys
Britney Spears' acting debut reminds me of the innocent days of cherry cokes and sock hops, when every children's film didn't end with the heroine in a three-way Asian gang bang. Not much happens in the film, but that's precisely as it should be in films made for teenagers, lest they get any bright ideas. As ever, Spears is a sterling role model of decorum and taste, teaching young girls that it's better to be respected for your mind
than ogled for your body, and that it's okay to wait for marriage before you go down on an entire soccer team on live national television.
Now on Video:
About Adam
Here's some free advice to first-time director Adam Curry: If you're going to shoot a biographical documentary, it's probably best to choke down a pinch of humility and make it about someone slightly more fascinating than yourself. Also: I hear that every hairdresser in the nation is on a mission to search out and destroy that hair, dude.
Along Came a Spider
I've said it before and I'll keep saying it again until these slow-witted Hollywood types get the message: ENOUGH WITH THE INTERNET MOVIES ALREADY! They apparently didn't get the hint from the millions of people who didn't turn out to see other 'net thrillers like "The Net", "Cookie's Fortune", "Bandwidth on the Run", "James Baud in Golden-ISP" and "Summer of Spam", not to mention NWA's controversial "FTP" video. Whoever thought a 90 minute thriller could hinge on the suspense of whether or not a website would get indexed by search engines or not needs to dial-up the real world sometime soon.
Freddie Got Fingered
Less ballsy moves have ruined the careers of bigger stars, so you have to applaud loveable meathead Freddie Prinz Jr's foray into the brightly-colored world of gay porn. Even if everybody knew it was going to happen sooner or later.
With a Friend Like Harry
Funny bio picture about Harry Houdini's best friend Mick Rabbie, who remained affable and good-natured throughout a lifetime of being ditched at parties and dinners by Houdini, who could never refuse the challenge of escaping from anywhere and everywhere. There's a great whorehouse scene here that I won't ruin for you by telling too much about the hermaphrodite in the closet.
Television:
Continuing my run down of this year's new shows:
Scrubs (NBC)
Only Spike Lee could make racism and ghetto danger so darn funny! A couple of white MIT graduates
move into the middle of gang territory in L.A. One's sloppy, one's a stuffed shirt, but if either leaves the
apartment wearing blue or red they'll be dead! I usually don't laugh at white guys being threatened by
gang members and insulted constantly, but when it's funny it's funny! Way to go for this daring new
sitcom!
Philly (ABC)
Yikes! Somebody call ABC and tell them the day of the cute kid and his horse is over. I don't know
what possessed them to replace tough-talking crime drama "N.Y.P.D. Nude" with this sugary third-rate
Black Stallion, but the guys in Programming ought to be hung up by their novelty corporate
neckties. Get with it, people! The plots are lame, the kid is ugly, and the horse can't act. Say good-bye
to this Awful World of Disney hour.
Accordion Jim (ABC)
This year ABC must stand for "All Bound for Cancellation." What's the most annoying instrument on the
face of the planet? The accordion! And who's the master of the accordion? Who cares! Turns out it's
some guy named Jim and ABC has given him a half-hour variety and sketch comedy show that's so
popular these days. But mark my words and small dollar bills, this son of a gun is going nowhere. One
more second of that trilling blowhard sound and I'd smash my T.V.! Not to mention the accordion
drives me nuts, too.
Video Games:
Woo-hoo! What a time to be a game enthusiast! Because they're making a whale's ass load of games!
Let's just skim some of my favorites quickly, eh?
Tony Hawk Prosecutor 2 (Playstation 2)
Playstation brings their successful courtroom simulator to the all-powerful PS2, and it doesn't
disappoint! The defense attorneys are real bastards this time out, but only you, as world-class
criminal prosecutor Tony Hawk, can womp them on the head with a writ of habeas corpus
so def as to make them think twice about taking the Bar exam!
Devil May Cry (Playstation 2)
No telling how the geniuses at PS2 got a game about the bombing of Afghanistan out so quick, but
more power to those ace patriots! It's your job to find and destroy Mr. O-some-asshole bin Laden
himself using the military's top bombadiers. Just hit every cave you can find, and when that fails, bomb
everything within the border! Unlike other games of the same type, there's no penalty at all for bombing
civilian targets, so have at!
Final Fantasy Tac Tics (Playstation)
I usually love to give a game a chance, but I just didn't get this one, folks. Maybe I lack vision, but I
don't see breath-freshening candy making a successful transition to the video game consoles, though
maybe the limited power of the Playstation wasn't a good platform to start out on. Just between you
and me, the disc itself tastes like shit, too.
That'll have to do for now, gents and wo-gents. Check back in two weeks for more entertaining
bits shaken out of the nation's toaster!   |
