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NASA Photographs Infuriate Shut-Ins, Conspiracy GeeksAugust 5, 2002 |
Tempe, AZ Courtesy Of Nasa Clear photo of "The Face" underlines need for Martian pooper-scooper law ew infrared images from NASA's Mars Odyssey orbiter featuring the long-debated formation known as the "Face on Mars" have sent shockwaves through the shut-in and conspiracy geek communities. Anxious and unbathed web surfers who expected the infrared pictures to provide new revelations about the features voiced their disappointment, saying the new images are bullshit because they don't show any kind of recognizable face at all, just a couple of bumps in the dirt.
NASA claims this is because there never was a face, stupid, only a trick of light and shadow fueled by desperate weirdoes who haven't worked in years. Fans of the face contend that it was only the lack of "night-vision" imagery that failed to expose the Sphinxlike visage they have come to know and love. NASA responded ...
ew infrared images from NASA's Mars Odyssey orbiter featuring the long-debated formation known as the "Face on Mars" have sent shockwaves through the shut-in and conspiracy geek communities. Anxious and unbathed web surfers who expected the infrared pictures to provide new revelations about the features voiced their disappointment, saying the new images are bullshit because they don't show any kind of recognizable face at all, just a couple of bumps in the dirt.
NASA claims this is because there never was a face, stupid, only a trick of light and shadow fueled by desperate weirdoes who haven't worked in years. Fans of the face contend that it was only the lack of "night-vision" imagery that failed to expose the Sphinxlike visage they have come to know and love. NASA responded with a patronizing smile and a hand gesture indicating "okaaay."
The debate over the Face has simmered for the last twenty-five years, since NASA's Viking orbiters transmitted pictures of the Cydonia region that appeared to show a half-shadowed, helmeted face staring up from the planet's surface like some kind of cross between Kermit the Frog and Han Solo. Since then, additional formations have been identified as the "Alien Conspiracy Pyramid," "the Mounds of Xena" and so forth — and fans of the Face have argued that the formations showed evidence of a vast Martian civilization populated by breathtaking huge-breasted women incapable of resisting the charms of virginal 30 year-old earth men.
In the past five years, sharper imagery from NASA's Mars Global Surveyor orbiter popped a big-ol' hole in that over-inflated fantasy balloon, confirming the mainstream view that the Face and the other formations were nothing more than a whole lot of wind-eroded dirt, much like everything else on Mars. But die-hard fans of the Face refused to give up hope, disregarding the newer photos as hoaxes and propaganda, and confusing everyone in their apartment buildings by going as "The Face" for Halloween.
The new Mars Odyssey images are unique in that they were taken using infrared light, unlike the visible light used for the Viking and Global Surveyor images of Cydonias. This allowed for day or night photography unhindered by shadows. Many fans of the Face, however, took issue with NASA's methodology.
"We got gypped," griped Thomas Reinhold of Jackson, Miss. "They totally lead us to believe they were going to be doing some nighttime infrared imagery, not just daytime. What if the face only comes out at night? Didn't think of that, did you, NASA?"
"He said what?" questioned Tony Rice, a member of the Arizona State University imaging team that worked with NASA on the project. "Jesus. Thanks to AOL, every kind of mook can get on the net now."
The Arizona State imaging research team denied any unique features belonging to the mesas that make up the Face. "What do we have to do, draw you people a map?" Rice questioned. "Oh, wait, that's right. We already did that. Morons."
No stranger to being called morons, the Face fans press on with their hunt for the truth.
"Those white-coated government lackeys over at NASA can conspiratize all they want, but we know the truth," boasted Elmer Noonan of Vine Grove, KY. "We've seen the pictures. The first picture, anyway. All the other ones after that were bullshit. A total governmental cover-up, straight out of the handbook. If it hadn't been for that Libertarian dude working at NASA back in '76, we never would have got to see that original image of the face. I bet those NASA guys have been kicking themselves every day since they released that thing. Ha. Jerks."
"We're putting new stuff out there every day for the public to look at," Rice said while playing with a hole in the bottom of his shoe. "I don't know what their problem is. Oh, right. The conspiracy. I almost forgot. Well, you're going to have to excuse me while I conspire to drive my shitty little Tercel over to Arby's and eat a roast beef sandwich for lunch." the commune news needs a hero: he's got to be strong and he's got to be fast and he's got to know where and how to dispose of an incredibly obese dead body. Mordecai "Three Finger" Brown has been spending a lot more time haunting the commune offices lately, ever since he tired of his gig chasing a buffalo through Kevin Costner's nightmares.
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Cheney Vows to Stay Course: Will Shoot Hunting Partner Again Mardi Gras, Gonorrhea to Return to New Orleans Aides Urge Bush to Stop Referring to Iraqi Majority as “Shits” Sheryl Crow Takes Cancer in Lance Armstrong Split |
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 September 29, 2003
Life Has Lemons for BorisIt all start when Boris goes to store and get lemons.
Boris is telling Louis story about is sad that kids on block like to throw eggs at Boris when him is walking Similar to Skippy dog, and Boris is too slow to catch egg presents and make into food or Easter toys. Instead, eggs does hit Boris and make mess on fur hat Similar to Skippy does wear. And Similar to Skippy does pee when hit by eggs, this is his dog defense. So is such a big sad mess.
Louis say when life give you lemons you shut up and make lemonades. Is good idea, but Boris life does not give lemons, does give to Boris eggs. And eggs no good for drinking when stuck on wall or dry in dog's fur hat.
Life does also give to Boris lint. But lint is so hard to make into drink. One time Boris does try but Louis say drink is like milkshake from Dracula's ass. No good.
So Boris must buy some lemons from life like vowel on Wheel of Fortunes to do this thing, to make drink from bad things like Louis does say.
First part is to find out where person sells lemons, this is hard part. Lesson one is, persons does not sell lemons at store for buying trees. So strange! But no lemons here. Also no lemons at tennis ball store.
Finally person does tell Boris to go to supermarket for buying lemons. Do not worry; they will let Boris inside even if he is not super. Even plain Boris can shop at this place, good surprise. No more need to wear disguise.

º Last Column: Look Out for Fuzz º more columns
It all start when Boris goes to store and get lemons.
Boris is telling Louis story about is sad that kids on block like to throw eggs at Boris when him is walking Similar to Skippy dog, and Boris is too slow to catch egg presents and make into food or Easter toys. Instead, eggs does hit Boris and make mess on fur hat Similar to Skippy does wear. And Similar to Skippy does pee when hit by eggs, this is his dog defense. So is such a big sad mess.
Louis say when life give you lemons you shut up and make lemonades. Is good idea, but Boris life does not give lemons, does give to Boris eggs. And eggs no good for drinking when stuck on wall or dry in dog's fur hat.
Life does also give to Boris lint. But lint is so hard to make into drink. One time Boris does try but Louis say drink is like milkshake from Dracula's ass. No good.
So Boris must buy some lemons from life like vowel on Wheel of Fortunes to do this thing, to make drink from bad things like Louis does say.
First part is to find out where person sells lemons, this is hard part. Lesson one is, persons does not sell lemons at store for buying trees. So strange! But no lemons here. Also no lemons at tennis ball store.
Finally person does tell Boris to go to supermarket for buying lemons. Do not worry; they will let Boris inside even if he is not super. Even plain Boris can shop at this place, good surprise. No more need to wear disguise.
But even at this super place is hard to find lemons. First Boris looks next to sour cream, but things at supermarket not in order of taste. There is fruit right next to sardines, so different. Not even gummy sardine, real fish kinds. Also, supermarket not in order of alphabet, lemons not near Lysol. Lemon-smelling Lysol is here, but Boris think this probably make ass-bad lemonades.
Finally Boris does find lemons, is next to peaches and orangutans. So silly, Boris did not know that things is in order of shape at supermarket. Boris should think of this simple thing!
Boris does take as many lemons as will fit in pants, and is going to say thank you to man in bib when look out, there is magic thing! Is magic little lemons in package from future, made by magic future persons called Sour Patch Kids. Is like Back to Future movie with little magic pizza that does become big, so cool this thing. Is so much better than stupid big Boris lemons that take up so many pockets and fall down legs of pants to make persons laugh.
Boris gets these things instead and kicks big stupid lemons out of pants. Now we are talking about lemonade.
At home, Boris does make lemonade with lemons from Boris magic life. And of course does share first glass with friend Louis, who likes this so much he does scream so all persons can come try magic lemonade. Louis does fall out of chair and scream is so sour, so sour he would kill Boris if him was not so blind from sour lemonade. Is so good like motherfucker, Louis love this stuff. Louis does love so much he wants to give rest to man who keyed Louis car. This is nice making-up thing to do to become friends, Boris thinks.
And Louis can have rest of glass okay, because smell of special lemonade does make Boris teeth hurt and eyes sting. Lemonade of Boris life is so good to make persons dizzy and dog afraid, best to get it out of doors for all world to enjoy. º Last Column: Look Out for Fuzzº more columns
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|  October 18, 2004
Queers Vote KerryMy opponent, Raoul Dunkin, makes a good case. That case is herpes. On the subject of politics, the old adage on children applies to him: Both should be seen beaten to a bloody pulp.
The liberal left is scared guiltless by the powerful agenda put forth by an assumably well-hung president. Still, the best they could offer is Senator John Kerry. John Kerry, who is from Massachusetts and doesn't even sound a bit like Cliff Clavin. Just where is Kerry really from? I'm not naming names, but let it be known that I, Ted Ted, was the first one to notice how French he looked. I'm pretty sure he wears lifts in his shoes to rise above his usual height of 5'1". I have it on good authority.
Kerry comes from the oldest tradition of tax-and-spend liberals. But taxes don't necessarily bother me—okay, they do. They bother me in the worst way. But his lesser qualities are what really scare me about Kerry. All these promises to provide increased medical insurance and bring more jobs to the country. Sure, they'll probably be service industry jobs, but I still say fuck that. The fact that we have four guys vying for one job right now, in some areas, is all that insures me I'm going to get a Whopper without hair in it. Take some fucking care with that sandwich, pizza face, 'cause there's three other greasy teen-agers and a Mexican with a fake green card who are ready to do it my way. Unless Kerry has his way.
Not to mention all the flip flops. I don't...
º Last Column: The Rotten Stink of Valentines º more columns
My opponent, Raoul Dunkin, makes a good case. That case is herpes. On the subject of politics, the old adage on children applies to him: Both should be seen beaten to a bloody pulp.
The liberal left is scared guiltless by the powerful agenda put forth by an assumably well-hung president. Still, the best they could offer is Senator John Kerry. John Kerry, who is from Massachusetts and doesn't even sound a bit like Cliff Clavin. Just where is Kerry really from? I'm not naming names, but let it be known that I, Ted Ted, was the first one to notice how French he looked. I'm pretty sure he wears lifts in his shoes to rise above his usual height of 5'1". I have it on good authority.
Kerry comes from the oldest tradition of tax-and-spend liberals. But taxes don't necessarily bother me—okay, they do. They bother me in the worst way. But his lesser qualities are what really scare me about Kerry. All these promises to provide increased medical insurance and bring more jobs to the country. Sure, they'll probably be service industry jobs, but I still say fuck that. The fact that we have four guys vying for one job right now, in some areas, is all that insures me I'm going to get a Whopper without hair in it. Take some fucking care with that sandwich, pizza face, 'cause there's three other greasy teen-agers and a Mexican with a fake green card who are ready to do it my way. Unless Kerry has his way.
Not to mention all the flip flops. I don't want to see my president wearing flip flops. My corneas are still scarred from the sight of Clinton in his jogging shorts—pardon me while I projectile vomit. Presidents should only wear flannel shirts, jeans, and cowboy hats when on vacation, or at the occasional funeral for a world leader. The Democrats have proven they can't be trusted to pick their own off-hours wardrobe. I would like to make it to my death without having seen the president of the United States wearing a hoodie and parachute pants, thank you.
Oh, and he's indecisive on issues. Or not really, perhaps, maybe he's too decisive. He believes in everything everyone else does. He makes fond use of the polls, don't he? Like how he comforts the gay nation and the rest of us at the same time with his assuring mantra: "I support the right for people to do whatever they want, and endorse your heterosexual insecurities, while at the same time embracing the more minor agenda of the homosexual community. I will not allow what you do, nor will I reject America's interference into your private lives." He sidesteps the serious issues like that neighbor of mine whose feet I shoot at every weekend.
Plus, his wife's the ketchup lady. Electing him means being forced to sit through a thousand product placements for Heinz during national speeches, State of the Union addresses, and photo opportunities.
Worse than all of it, if we elect stringbean, he's going to start curbing back the military. Jesus H. Christ on a hobby horse, we're supposed to quit the one thing our country still does best? During three short years we've occupied two enemy countries, made threats and allegations against several others, and pissed off any possible allies we used to have. We rock! Give us one more term, I swear we'll annex Poland and get the French to apologize for getting us into Vietnam.
No more of this pacifistic, sanctions-filled bullshit of a Democratic regime. September 11 gave us a license to kill, and by god, it's only good for a limited time. Let's re-elect the president, reinstate the draft, and start inheriting the earth again. º Last Column: The Rotten Stink of Valentinesº more columns
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Milestones1921: Underground rumor begins that Lil Duncan, to be born in 50 years, will like the kinky stuff.Now HiringDeaf Mute. Duties include standing around, accepting blame for assorted office mishaps, and listening to Ramrod Hurley's stories about the one time he went fishing. Antidepressant prescription a plus.Top-Selling commune Paraphernalia| 1. | the commune's Book on Tape: Everyone's favorite verbose classic War & Peace printed in tiny type on the non-sticky side of a roll of Scotch tap | | 2. | The "I Sued the commune for Libel and All I Got Was This Lousy Mug" Mug | | 3. | "Pin the Paternity Suit on Lil Duncan's Babydaddy" Home Game | | 4. | Boris Utzov Guide of English Slang | | 5. | Ivana Folger-Balzac. Please, somebody take Ivana Folger-Balzac. | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 12/23/2002 S'up, America? Roland McC here, bringing you the movie review love. Right, like you thought it was suddenly going to be Jules Verne or something. Not this week. This week, it's all about the pinnacle of the movie season, the two-week movie release orgy that comes at the end of every year. We take a look at the best of the best below, except for Chicago. I had a bad experience there once, so I'll be goddamned if I'm going to review their movie and give them free publicity. Everyone else, however, is on my good side. Drink in the glitz and have a Merry Christmas for me. On to the movies!
In Theaters
25th Hour
Another touching story of our educational system's failure to teach basic...
S'up, America? Roland McC here, bringing you the movie review love. Right, like you thought it was suddenly going to be Jules Verne or something. Not this week. This week, it's all about the pinnacle of the movie season, the two-week movie release orgy that comes at the end of every year. We take a look at the best of the best below, except for Chicago. I had a bad experience there once, so I'll be goddamned if I'm going to review their movie and give them free publicity. Everyone else, however, is on my good side. Drink in the glitz and have a Merry Christmas for me. On to the movies!
In Theaters
25th Hour
Another touching story of our educational system's failure to teach basic math and number-counting skills to America's youth. Ed Norton is at the top of his skinny-moron form as the nincomboob who is constantly being smacked around by his hefty sidekick Ralph (played in fine pre-heart-explosion form by Philip Dustin Hoffman) when he makes reservations for 13 o'clock lunch or enrages a prostitute by asking if he can get change back from a five. While at times the comedy outweighs the drama, like when Ed makes a bar bet that he can suck off an entire football team, and then finds out how many guys there are on a football team, the film's deeper moments resonate and touch on important issues for counters and can't-counters alike.
Catch Me if You Can
I won't lie and pretend that I've ever not wished that Leo DiCaprio would get waxed by a floor buffer at the airport and put us out of our moviegoing misery, it's pretty much been a constant mantra for me over the last several years. At least since Critters 3. God, he ruined that whole movie. And then Hollywood had to go and rub him all in our faces with that whole Titanic fiasco. That set off a chain of events that led to the trailer for The Beach being played before every movie shown in America for six years, which about drove me out of my own ass. But all that being said, I have to admit that he's perfectly cast as Lucky the Leprechaun in this latest arc of Stephen Spielberg's personal spiral down into weird-movies-with-sappy-endings land. You might as well pass out the Oscar now because Leo IS Lucky the Leprechaun and he WILL mess you up if you get too close to his Lucky Charms. People can drool all they want about James Cagney staying in character for six months to shoot The Grinch, leading to the ruin of his social life, but DiCaprio has spent his entire life in character for this role. And I'll never look at a box of freeze-dried sugar clods in quite the same way again.
Gays of New York
The amazing success of last year's Lords of the Ring has led to a resurgence of interest in gay cinema that this country hasn't seen since Tootsie. While most of the resulting films have been of questionable quality and authenticity, like Arnold Schwarzenegger's Gay of the Jackal and Rutger Hauer's Gay Motorcycle Gunfight, a few gems have snuck through. Marvin Scorcese's Gays of New York is a gripping and hard-hitting drama about the long-forgotten 1970's riots between New York gays who loved disco and those who thought disco was tacky. Some lessons of history may be hard to look at, but for that very reason they should never be forgotten.
Lords of the Ring: The Out-of-Towners
Look, I know they say they planned this thing as a trilogy all along, but I started to doubt that the second I heard the second installment would feature Steve Martin boxing Goldie Hawn. For one thing, neither of them is gay at all. At least Steve Martin isn't. He's straight as tube socks with the stripes across the top. I don't know about Goldie. You can never be totally sure with women, they can seem totally straight forever and then one day you turn on the TV and bam! They're making out with Madonna. But whichever way her wind blows, this was an amazingly poor sequel to one of the greatest gay boxing movies ever. It's like they took the name, slapped it on a movie they were already making, and pretended it had something to do with the original, like Blair Witch 2 or Richard III. There's a load of hype over this one already, but I can't help but think that audiences are going to be hoppin' mad when Goldie goes home with Kurt Russell at the end.
Max
Look, you can call the guy with the little Hitler mustache Max or Hans or whatever you like, but every American born before 1980 is still going to recognize that the movie's about Hitler. Might as well get it out there in the open, up on the marquee even, call your movie something like Hitler Had a Little Dick and you might even win a Golden Globe. Which isn't much, I know, but you can trade them in for half-off a shrimp dinner at Sizzler these days, and that's pretty sweet. Anyway, Cusack is good as the anal little frau-beater, but I think his innate likeability worked against him in this role… they really needed somebody like James Woods or O.J. Simpson to give the audience a proper target for flung popcorn and the shouting of misinformed German stereotypes. Personally, I would have liked to see Robin Williams tackle the role, that would have made for some good insane fun, but he's probably still getting death threats from Patch Adams so I understand why he was unavailable.
That's that, my lovely American pies. The creamy cream of the crop. All that's left is to soak up the movie glory and ride that high as long as nature will allow. But remember, don't hit the Thunderbird too hard in your post-holiday-movie-season depression, because there's always next year. It may seem far off now, a minute speck on a distant horizon, but trust me, it'll be here faster than you can say "I'm wasting my life." See you in the new year, friends and neighbors.   |