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Future Archaeologists Have No Clue About 9/11April 5, 2004 |
The Year 2117, The Future Newsweek The magazine cover in question, pre-future discovery he torn-off front cover of a Newsweek magazine dating back to March of 2004, discovered by archaeologists at a dig outside Prozac City examining the remains of a 21st century McDonaldâs child care facility, has sparked heated speculation as to the meaning of the magazineâs headline: âInside the 9/11 Investigation.â
Since all records of the early 21st century were destroyed in the Great Silicon Wipe of 2009, modern-day scientists can only wonder about the troubles of 21st century man, not to mention what a 9/11 is and why it might need to be investigated. Archaeologists are split as to the possible interpretations.
âThis clearly has to do with air pollution,â asserts present archaeologist and former Past Bob VI roommate Paul Silvestri, pointing ...
he torn-off front cover of a Newsweek magazine dating back to March of 2004, discovered by archaeologists at a dig outside Prozac City examining the remains of a 21st century McDonaldâs child care facility, has sparked heated speculation as to the meaning of the magazineâs headline: âInside the 9/11 Investigation.â Since all records of the early 21st century were destroyed in the Great Silicon Wipe of 2009, modern-day scientists can only wonder about the troubles of 21st century man, not to mention what a 9/11 is and why it might need to be investigated. Archaeologists are split as to the possible interpretations. âThis clearly has to do with air pollution,â asserts present archaeologist and former Past Bob VI roommate Paul Silvestri, pointing out what appear to be industrial smokestacks in the background of the cover photo. âLook at all that smoke, that must be a coal refinery or something. Nasty. I donât know who the white guy is on the cover; the part where his name should be is caked in 100-year-old mustard thatâs become part of the paper. But he was probably a coal baron or something.â âGet your cock out of that crock,â disagreed fellow archaeologist Alan Hayes. âWhat does nine divided by eleven have to do with air pollution? This clearly involves the controversial integration of New Math. They were probably all up in shit about 9/11 equaling four, like that was too advanced for their Cro-Magnon brains. Thatâs probably why this guy is raising his hand, like he doesnât get it because the teacherâs going too fast.â âI donât know,â interrupted Silvestri. âIf thatâs true, then whatâs this stuff about âYour Government Failed You... And I Failed Youâ? Who is this guy? Heâs obviously poor, look at how bald he is. So heâs clearly not a government official.â âMaybe heâs a robot,â offered Hayes. âMaybe his armâs up like that because heâs doing the robot dance.â âHmmm,â Silvestri thought about it for a moment. âNo, thatâs not it. Look, heâs got a napkin tucked into his collar, like heâs eating dinner. And why would you build a robot that needs glasses?â âMaybe heâs a glasses-testing robot,â offered Hayes. âYouâre an idiot,â countered Silvestri. Laymen on the street have been even more confused, asking why the man on the cover is wearing those round eye shields and why ancient man only set aside one week a year for news. Will the truth ever again be known? No one can know for sure, but if they ever do figure it out, Future Bob IV will be there, carrying on the fine Bob family tradition by reporting to the commune offices via my high-tech pastwave radio implant, bringing you the latest future news on what, in this case, you already know. Good day. the commune news is always proud to speak out in support of the future, not to mention the past, but personally we think the present bites monkey dung. Future Bob IV is the proud descendant of famed commune reporter Future Bob I, who has yet to earn his fame as of this writing.
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Conservative Woman Found he White House, always on the search for rare species of human beings or close approximations, unearthed an impressive find last week: A female conservative. Defying usual stereotypes, the so-called right-wing woman is apparently not a career politician or from the deep rural South. In fact, shes completed higher education and appears to be not at all an idiot of any sort—though field-testing leaves the possibility open. And, perhaps most startling of all, the administration found the rare species in the most unlikeliest of places—within its own ranks. The alleged female Republican is Harriet Miers, White House attorney and personal lawyer to the Bush clan for years. Born and raised in Dallas, a small state in the country of Texas, Miers earned several accolades for her legal work and previous appointments by Texas governor George W. Bush, no relation to the current president. Though she lacks any bench experience, discounting bus stops, Miers is a respected lawyer, despite being personal attorney to the president and the White House counsel. Fox Disappointed by Desperate Alien Prison Escape Ratings he new television season barely underway, Fox executives are already lamenting the low ratings for their most calculated new show of the season, Desperate Alien Prison Escape. We dont understand it, lamented stunned network executive Roger Bacon. This show capitalized on every hot trend currently on TV. We even had swearing. It should have been the biggest hit of all time. Fuck. Foxs latest ratings hopeful follows the travails of Juk, a member of a secret alien invasion conspiracy who intentionally gets arrested for sleeping with a bored suburban housewife in order to help his cousin escape from jail, using a detailed map he had tattooed on his scrotum, which due to his alien anatomy is located where a human beings eyelids would be. Serial Killers Neighbor: He just wouldnt shut up about serial killing. Heather Grahams Career Found Dead in Apartment |
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 July 3, 2012
I Sing the Body EroticAh, my sweet Nancy. Another year, another anniversary, and our love endures. Why does it last? Is it because ours is a love meant for the ages, without judgment or fear of reprisal, a shared connection between two people who are soulmates? Yes, a smidge. Mostly it continues to grow stronger because we never let ourselves lapse into staleness.
As you know, Nancy, I am not simply a heart that never stops loving and a mind that never stops obsessing over our love. I am also a penis. I am a testicle. Two testicles, in fact. I am a body, the throbbing impulses of a man. And you are more than love to me. You are the rounded hips, the supple breasts, the plush lips, the honeyed cave hole of a woman. We satisfy each other's bodies as we do our eternal longing for companionship. Yes, Nancy, like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, we express our love with constant humping.
The years pass, Nancy, but our physical love continues to bring us closer. No matter how many times we do the nasty, my darling, I never tired of the act, and I know you feel the same. For no matter how we may copulate in familiar ways, when things grow too familiar and comfortable for us, we always choose to raunchy it up with a little romantic experimentation. Your leg here, our backs bent this day, dangle these here and lick themâour imaginations are limitless when it comes to our storied love-making. Even if we were blithering retards, dear Nancy, we still have that dirty Japanese...
º Last Column: Suicide is Too Good For You º more columns
Ah, my sweet Nancy. Another year, another anniversary, and our love endures. Why does it last? Is it because ours is a love meant for the ages, without judgment or fear of reprisal, a shared connection between two people who are soulmates? Yes, a smidge. Mostly it continues to grow stronger because we never let ourselves lapse into staleness.
As you know, Nancy, I am not simply a heart that never stops loving and a mind that never stops obsessing over our love. I am also a penis. I am a testicle. Two testicles, in fact. I am a body, the throbbing impulses of a man. And you are more than love to me. You are the rounded hips, the supple breasts, the plush lips, the honeyed cave hole of a woman. We satisfy each other's bodies as we do our eternal longing for companionship. Yes, Nancy, like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, we express our love with constant humping.
The years pass, Nancy, but our physical love continues to bring us closer. No matter how many times we do the nasty, my darling, I never tired of the act, and I know you feel the same. For no matter how we may copulate in familiar ways, when things grow too familiar and comfortable for us, we always choose to raunchy it up with a little romantic experimentation. Your leg here, our backs bent this day, dangle these here and lick themâour imaginations are limitless when it comes to our storied love-making. Even if we were blithering retards, dear Nancy, we still have that dirty Japanese comic book with all the pictures of weird positions to try.
What a treasure the fables positions of the Comic Sutra has been to us. We've tried all of them, I believe, Nancy, some of them in other rooms of the house. Some say there are only 103 positions, but you know what I say to thatâdo them twice. And then do them underwater. There is no spice for a relationship like an aquatic sexual adventure, and as long as our neighbors leave their gate unlocked, we will continue to follow our inner Neptune and Neptilla.
Sometimes, dear Nancy, what we hide is more exciting than what we reveal. A sheer negligee may give a breathtaking hint of the beauty of your naked body, inspiring more excitement and ecstasy than I have ever known. Just as the small football helmet on my wang does the same for you. Sometimes, for an added touch of sensuality, we may play our own erotic game of Blind Man's Bluff, feeling our way to each other's bodies in the dark. At least once we remove the furniture, there's no way I want my dick in a sling again, but that probably goes without saying.
What does not go without saying is that I always prefer your naked body in the light. Do not think my talk of concealing your goodies or making love in the dark means I'm ashamed of your body. Though both of us have aged, Nancy, I find you just as sexy as you were ten years ago, on the sliding scale that we've both aged and, sure, you're not as hot as you used to be. Your sister has your body from ten years ago, but I would not sleep with her Nancy, since I love only you. I may think of her to inspire my erection, but I will make love to you with that erection, Nancy, and almost all the time I'm picturing your head on that body. That could not possibly be cheating.
No matter if you have gained a little weight, if your thighs now rub together in a disconcerting way, and if your breasts do not rise like fluffy couch pillows as they used to. If you have pancake boobs now, it's all the better for me to lay on top of you and cram my love inside. You complain about your cottage cheese buttocks, but I say those indentations are the dozens of dimples from the many wrinkly smiles your ass gives me whenever I look at it.
It's for our erotic life together, and no other, that I keep all those pornographic magazines in my workshed. I don't know why you're getting so bent out of shape, Nancyâyou should only be bent out of shape for our coupling. The magazine may be called Chicks With Dicks, but the reason I have those is obvious: A chick with a dick is still a chick. I don't need chicks with vaginas. That's why I have you, my love. º Last Column: Suicide is Too Good For Youº more columns
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|  March 31, 2003
the commune Knows Which Way the Wind BlowsRamrod Hurley, Acting-Editor and top dog here at the commune. And after an insulting post card from absentee Supreme Leader Red Bagel last week, I'm proud to announce a new and fearless direction for the commune.
As an editor, I find myself frequently reading the commune. And well, I've noticed how we can sometimes seem unsupportive of the administration and the country at large. Our frequent urges to overthrow the government and assassinate the bourgeoisie may seem adversarial at times, but it has all been in good fun. Deep down, we love the leader of the free world and feel strongly for George W. Bush as well. And it's time we let it show.
Yep, as suggested forcefully by Red Bagel, we're starting a proud new tradition of agreeing with the White House here at the commune. Having our own opinion was fun for a while, but now there's a war on, and it's time to step up to the plate and yes-man our country. Make no mistake, we'll still be a powerful alternative source of news in the future; but our alternative source of news will be the White House.
Poll after poll reported in the objective media show sentiment runs extremely high that the president is doing the right thing, and we couldn't agree more now. After months of questioning the president's push to move into war very quickly and refusal to wait for sanctions, we realize that the president has information that we could never truly fathom and provides all the evidence of weapons...
º Last Column: Mutiny on the Bagel º more columns
Ramrod Hurley, Acting-Editor and top dog here at the commune. And after an insulting post card from absentee Supreme Leader Red Bagel last week, I'm proud to announce a new and fearless direction for the commune.
As an editor, I find myself frequently reading the commune. And well, I've noticed how we can sometimes seem unsupportive of the administration and the country at large. Our frequent urges to overthrow the government and assassinate the bourgeoisie may seem adversarial at times, but it has all been in good fun. Deep down, we love the leader of the free world and feel strongly for George W. Bush as well. And it's time we let it show.
Yep, as suggested forcefully by Red Bagel, we're starting a proud new tradition of agreeing with the White House here at the commune. Having our own opinion was fun for a while, but now there's a war on, and it's time to step up to the plate and yes-man our country. Make no mistake, we'll still be a powerful alternative source of news in the future; but our alternative source of news will be the White House.
Poll after poll reported in the objective media show sentiment runs extremely high that the president is doing the right thing, and we couldn't agree more now. After months of questioning the president's push to move into war very quickly and refusal to wait for sanctions, we realize that the president has information that we could never truly fathom and provides all the evidence of weapons of mass destruction within Iraq anyone would need.
It is high time those resisting the president's attempts to bring freedom to Iraq got on board the freedom train. Everyone by now knows Saddam Hussein is the master of lies, like the snake in the Garden of Eden as depicted in the Bibleâwhich we now know is entirely factual.
Previous insinuations President Bush is a war-hungry, dim-witted cowboy who terrifies the rest of the world with his hardline conservative agenda were perhaps a bit harsh. His mastery of English language and foreign diplomacy are superior to all previous presidents, and he clearly won by mandate the 2000 election without manipulation of political figures placed by the Republican party. He does not look at all like a monkey.
A daring new commune? You bet, folks. It's more important than ever in a time of conflict against the greatest evil mankind has ever known to show solidarity. Any of those not showing solidarity at the commune will be fired quickly, and I've got a particularly close eye on Raoul Dunkin.
It's an exciting new world of forcing democracy on the rest of the world, and I'm excited about it. As a lifelong Libertarian, I recognize the importance of establishing laws around the world in the lawless regions outside of America. Iraq will be a better place for our involvement, and after that, North Korea, then Iran, and maybe we'll eventually have brought democracy to every small region of the globe, even Florida. º Last Column: Mutiny on the Bagelº more columns
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Quote of the Day“How does it feel? To be on your own? With no direction home? Not even an amber alert? And nobody's bound to look in this van, so keep quiet and just try to enjoy yourself.”
-Bobby Molesterman, now doing 15-25Fortune 500 CookieNobody thought it was funny when you said you snorted your dad's ashes, so it's best not to mention going bowling with your mom's skillâyour first instinct was right, nobody gets your sense of humor. Tough love is not the only kind of love, except in prison, so you'd better learn to like it. Lucky Strikesâsmoke 'em if you got 'em.
Try again later.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | Twins: God's Mistake | | 2. | HD-DVD, Blu-Ray Discs, Digital Tape, and 10 More Reasons to Stop Buying Movies | | 3. | Uncle Macho's Bathtub Tequila | | 4. | Touched by an Angel: "I Was Molested by Gabriel" | | 5. | Critic's Corner: How You Personally Ruined Western Culture | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 6/9/2003 Howdy-Doody, America, and welcome back for another peek up the entertainment skirt. We here at Entertainment Police, and I use the term "we" loosely since I mean only me, hope you've been enjoying the blockbuster season so far and are ready for a little more. Well, maybe not quite ready, since there's nothing but ladyfingers going off this week, but we (again: me) hope you're keeping a little in reserve for when the big bombs hit. And we mean bombs in a good way, not like the metal kind they drop on elementary schools in far-off lands or the movie kind they drop on audiences during the spring months. Speaking of which, it's nice out, so we're going to move straight to the speed round in this week's reviews:
In Theaters

Howdy-Doody, America, and welcome back for another peek up the entertainment skirt. We here at Entertainment Police, and I use the term "we" loosely since I mean only me, hope you've been enjoying the blockbuster season so far and are ready for a little more. Well, maybe not quite ready, since there's nothing but ladyfingers going off this week, but we (again: me) hope you're keeping a little in reserve for when the big bombs hit. And we mean bombs in a good way, not like the metal kind they drop on elementary schools in far-off lands or the movie kind they drop on audiences during the spring months. Speaking of which, it's nice out, so we're going to move straight to the speed round in this week's reviews:
In Theaters
2 Fast 2 Furious
M.C. Hammer's directorial debut follows the protective eyewear enthusiast's ascent from preppie rapping superdoof to hard-core street thug rapper, then to rapping pretend boxer or whatever he's posing as this week. There are lots of cars, which is good, and young people, which is better, but for obvious reasons and despite their best efforts they couldn't work Hammer all the way out of the script, and for that it gets a big fat 2Lame4U.
Daniel Day-Care
Charlie Kaufman's latest bizarre script has screen star Daniel Day Lewis opening a day care center after he learns a heartfelt lesson on a bus and discovers that changing poopy diapers is way more fulfilling than being an internationally acclaimed film actor. It is funny to see Day-Lewis lecturing toddlers on the wisdom of Indian customs or the best way to axe some foreigner in the back, but overall the pic is a bit too smarmy for my tastes. Smarm is a hard element to balance in a film, you think you're only adding a pinch for flavor but you almost always end up dumping in way too damned much.
Hollywood Homicide
This quickie cash-in on the Robert Blake murder case is disappointing, but mainly because they dropped the ball big-time by not casting Courtney Love as Bonnie Lee Bakley. Talk about the role she was born to play. They could probably still get things right by casting Love in the sequel, but that would have to entail some freaky lighting-strike that brings Bakley back to life so Blake could shoot her again. That's a little silly, so they might just have to let this one go and keep Love in mind if they ever do a movie about Nirvana.
The In-Laws
Wouldn't it be hilarious if your in-laws turned out to be a mismatched pair of superspies? No? You're right!
The Italian Job
People always ask me how this differs from a blowjob or a handjob, and to be honest it's hard to describe. It's kind of like both at once, with froth on top, if that's not too graphic for your bourgeoisie sensibilities. As for the movie, it's mostly froth, with Marky Mark looking for love in all the wrong places, including Italy. The directing is sold, and the whole film could have been great if they'd done an Italian job on the screenplay, but unfortunately the screenwriter pulled off a Hoboken job instead, which is kind of painful and involves clamps.
Love the Hard Way
There hasn't been a celebration of anal sex in popular culture as blatant as this since Led Zeppelin's In Through the Out Door, and for that reprieve I had been grateful. Let this film stand as a compelling argument against DOGME certification in the future, as sometimes pancake makeup is the only humane way to go.
Rugrats Gone Wild
I for one didn't want to see these cartoon toddlers get naked, and requested as much in a written letter to the studio, but as usual I think they filed my letter under "future asswipe material." By that I mean they were going to use my letter to wipe their moviemaking asses, not that they expect I will one day turn into an asswipe. If they don't think I'm an asswipe by now, chances are that ship has sailed.
That's that, America. Which that? THAT one. Right there. No, to your left. A little more, a little more⌠warmer⌠THAT ONE! YOU- aw, crap, you almost had it. Maybe next time. Until then, I'll be me, you be you, and never the twain shall meet. Later America!   |