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1/27/26   
We all scream for iced tea
homecommune Staff Biographiescommune news20,000 Seats Beneath the League with Stan AbernathieOr So You Thought with Red BagelBook RevoltBoris is Gay with Boris UtzovMy Friend Polio with Omar BricksMy Dearest Deidrebane with Carlisle P. ChesterfeldChild Star with Clarissa ColemanThe Best of Joel DickmanNo Shit? with Griswald DreckOne Sane Man with Raoul DunkinEditorial CartoonsFanmail from Some Flounders: Letters to the EditorGiving You the Finger with Rok FingerThe Hanes Identity with Mickey HanesSampson L. Hartwig RemembersShort ‘N’ Sweet with Stan HooperPoop of the Century with Ramrod HurleyAmerican Jesus with Mitch KroegerYou Can’t Win with Alamo CruiseFortune 500 Cookies with Mazie the ChickenManifestos of FunMe Chinese with Ned NedmillerSittin’ Around the Pickle Barrel with Shorty and JeterPoetry CoronerEntertainment Police: Movie and Television ReviewsThis Space for Rent: Guest ColumnistsGlass Ceiling Fan with Thelma ReynoldsClarise Sickhead’s Bedtime StoriesGoddammit! with Ted TedReflections of a Goocher with Stu UmbrageThe World Vs. Homer Vanslykecommune Club with Emil Zender

Rock Band Bush Forgotten in Record Time

September 2, 2002
New York, NY
Courtesy Tiger Beat Magazine
Last one into the cultural black hole is a rotten egg
S
neaking up on an enduring place in music history like an albino in a snowstorm, the platinum-selling English grunge band Bush has dropped completely from public memory in record time, a study found Tuesday. Previous record holders The Escape Club could not be reached for comment, as nobody could remember who was in the band or what they looked like.

Bush rose to fame behind the success of their 1994 album Sixteen Stone, which sold over 15 million copies worldwide and settled hundreds of bets over how long it would take alternative rock to turn into Def Leppard. Bristling under the weight of overwhelmingly poor reviews and tired of not being taken seriously by anyone over the age of fourteen, Bush donned indie producer Steve Albini like a credibility hat for the release ...Read more...


Police: Sasser author quiet type, loner; basic computer geek

Conditions at Walter Reed Upgraded to "Nightmarishly Clive Barker-esque"

"Female Sex Patch" Nothing But Dermal Tequila Shooters

Guy in lunchroom actually laughing out loud at comic strip "Marvin"



November 11, 2002

Click for Biography

The Girl Everyone Just Sort of Assumed Was Native American

Here is a tale, well-learned, well-told,
about a girl of fifteen years old.
A girl nearly so old she could drive
with pretty brown skin and a look in her eye.
Between that and how she called the corn "maize"
everyone thought her and Indian babe.

Much props was she given, more than her share
for her leatherstocking dress and well-braided hair.
We thought her a mystic with powers bizarre
that she traveled by horse instead of a car;
wise and well-bred, with roots in the earth,
who knew what the wind and the rain were all worth;
that a teardrop would fall from one eye of brown
when someone tossed their litter around.

Maybe, someone said, she lived in a teepee
that's perfect for her, if not ideal for me.
It's possible someone has traded for deeds
this land all around for a necklace of beads.

So flooded with angst and white liberal guilt
we apologized for genocide and buildings we built,
but we found out later it was all for noit
and it turns out she actually came from Detroit!
She's black, not a Native, and now we have no doubt
a million other things to feel guilty...Read more...


º Last Column: GET UP!
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July 21, 2003

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Wedding Bell Booze

I had game Saturday, good people. An old fashioned wedding, right out of the books. If the book was The Nightmare Before Christmas, or something by Roald Dahl maybe.

It was quite a shock to find Felchyana drunk on the worst imitation Russian vodka I've ever seen. On the day of our wedding! Actually, it was the day after our wedding was supposed to be, since I had been too inebriated to remember the date then, but you understand my meaning. It was quite disturbing. Lil Duncan had to walk her around the room and give her coffee, while Ivana Folger-Balzac shouted at her like a drill instructor; though since she does that for everyone I'm not sure if it was supposed to help. I was so depressed riding Boris Utzov around the room like a horse was the only thing that would cheer me up. I'm about to marry one of his nation's people, so that makes us like family. Then again, who knows where he comes from? They don't speak the Queen's English there, that's all I know.

Despite all that horror beforehand, it was a charming ceremony. Red Bagel walked me down the aisle, though the preacher certainly didn't approve, but he's Episcopalian and I don't approve of that, so we're even. Felchyana had to come down the aisle riding Lil piggyback, which was quite embarrassing for me and arousing for some of our guests.

It may seem strange, but I had a hard time deciding on who my best man would be. It was between Camembert and Lee for quite a long...Read more...


º Last Column: The Last Nights of a Free Man
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Milestones
1992: Lil Duncan's alternative band Fuck Off is signed to a major label, on the condition they replace Lil and change their name to The Cranberries.
Now Hiring
Genie. Duties include magically delivering gifts of high monetary and social value on demand. Must have own lamp or bottle, no backtalk. Evil "wish becomes curse"-type genies need not apply.
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
Last IssueLast Issue’s Lead News Story

North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY Mortimer Wendell
9/2/2002
God Only Nose
A nose is a nose is a nose.
Wouldn't one by any other name smell
just as well?
What the hell.
Call it a hogglebottom
and it still smells the sweets.
Call it a snot locker,
still a nose-shaped hunk o' meat
stapled to your face right where God intended.
Just think if your cheeks were where your face ended!
How strange! How ugly! How inconvenient! How loathe!
Why, if you had to sneeze then you'd damn near explode!
And with no nose there to handle the chore
of absorbing the impact of a sliding glass door,
with no nose you'd smack your eyeballs right on the glass,
and with a squeegeeing sound you'd fall right on your ass.
I won't have it! I don't want it! I'll keep my nose please! Read more...

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