| Loves That Woman ';
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$dunkintitle='The New Anne Frank Diary';
$edit='2003/1222/';
$fanmail='2005/0516/';
$fanmailtitle='Volume 63';
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$fingertitle='I’m Fresh Out of Haitian Cigarettes';
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$goochertitle='Gwar of the Worlds';
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$hanestitle='Pink is Not for Men';
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$hartwigtitle='Parade';
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$hoopertitle='Vernon Hooper’s Fifth Syphilis';
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$kroegertitle='Charity Case';
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$losertitle='Lost Leavings';
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$pickletitle='State of the Art';
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$renttitle='I’m Not that Big a Fan of Talking';
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$reynoldstitle='A Series of Unfortunate Evans';
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$hartwigtitle='O Captain!';
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$sickheadtitle='The Legendary Spot of Coco Hobari McSteve';
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$tedtitle='The New War on Poverty';
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$vanslyketitle='Health Food is Full of Shit';
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$zendertitle='The Sixth commune Enthusiasts Club Meeting';
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Monkeypox Great Name for a Movie, Say Health Officials June 23, 2003 |
Madison, WI Big Book o' Rats, Random House A Gambian pouch rat, the perfect gift for your least-favorite child
“I’d expect it to be in theaters by late this summer, if some TV movie doesn’t snatch up the name first,” explained CDC head Sumner Alimony. “Actually, it would have been perfect for that Outbreak movie with Kevin Spacey and those sick monkeys a few years back, too bad they can’t go back in time and rename that one. True, we’re mainly dealing with sick prairie dogs right now, but monkeys are way more marketable, plus then you don’t have to explain why your sick prairie dog movie is called Mon...
onkeypox, the African virus spreading through the Midwestern U.S. by way of human contact with infected pet prairie dogs, would make a bitchin’ name for a new movie, announced health officials today when asked if there were any new developments in the outbreak. “I’d expect it to be in theaters by late this summer, if some TV movie doesn’t snatch up the name first,” explained CDC head Sumner Alimony. “Actually, it would have been perfect for that Outbreak movie with Kevin Spacey and those sick monkeys a few years back, too bad they can’t go back in time and rename that one. True, we’re mainly dealing with sick prairie dogs right now, but monkeys are way more marketable, plus then you don’t have to explain why your sick prairie dog movie is called Monkeypox. People would probably think Prairiedogpox was a foreign film or something boring like that. And prairie dogs aren’t really monkey-level scary, unless you get the camera really super close to their faces.” Twelve human cases of monkeypox have been reported nationwide so far, with 53 more pending testing: 25 in Indiana, 17 in Wisconsin and 11 in Illinois. One additional case was suspected in New Jersey, but turned out to be a false alarm after a Papa John’s pizza delivery driver called in sick with the complaint that “Dude, I’m sick as shit. I got Monkeyballs.” According to the Centers for Disease Control, the driver later turned out to have a combination of a hangover and athlete’s foot unrelated to the exotic pet scare. Undisclosed federal rat-disease-tracing techniques have sourced the outbreak back to infected prairie dogs sold by Phil's Pocket Pets of Villa Park, Illinois, a small exotic pets dealer who has been inundated with faxed Polaroids of infected genital lesions marked with messages like “Thanks a lot, asshole,” ever since the outbreak began. According to Phil of pocket pet fame, the prairie dogs were infected by a Gambian giant rat, also known as a Gambian pouch rat, also known as an African Holy Shit rat, also known as a What the Cock is That Under the Sink rat. The outbreak has renewed debate over lax restrictions governing the importation of exotic pets in recent years, and onto which of the lowest social rungs their owners desperately cling. Besides prairie dogs and numerous varieties of unsavory international rats, owners of other ridiculous exotic pets such as the Polynesian Scum Shrew, the Tasmanian Screaming Hedgehog, the European Couch Mouse and poodles have been fighting for their right to purchase, grow bored with, and then discard trendy non-domesticated animals. New fears have arisen in recent days over monkeypox being transmitted from humans to other humans (as happens daily in Africa and other monkey-fucking cultures) and not just between infected prairie dogs and humans who don’t have the common sense not to stick their finger in a prairie dog’s mouth. “Man, you gotta be sick already to fuck a prairie dog, I don’t care what anybody says,” stated a nearby teenager claiming to speak for the CDC. Government health officials have recommended smallpox shots for all people exposed to the monkeypox virus, thinking that using the vaccine for a similarly-named ailment sounds about as good as anything. Other officials have recommended not sticking your dick in holes in the ground, though it was unclear whether or not they represented the federal government’s official stance on hole-dicking. the commune news once dated a girl who owned a ferret, and there was definitely something wrong with that chick. Ivana Folger-Balzac came back from this assignment unhindered by any bizarre hamster diseases, but the staff is confident that an upcoming story on North Korean nukes will be the end of either her or the North Koreans.
 |  Iraq blah blah blah Suicide blah blah blah Dead
Hotshot newborn "panda" just monochromatic bear
 "Blond Highlights the Devil's Work," Says Iran, Straight Men
MasterCard issued to Donald Trump in hopes of spurring economy
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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. Finely Aged Winemaker Ernest Gallo Corked Failure of Sirius Radio Blamed on "You Can't be Sirius!" Ad Campaign |
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 August 18, 2003
I Shit the Sheriff, But I Didn't Kid the DeputySo I'm sitting there, explaining to the sheriff about how if a pizza delivery dude leaves his car running in front of your house while he jets in to bring your gaywad neighbor a pizza, it's totally kosher to sprint out and take his car for a spin for a few days or whatever, when I shit you not, that Eric Clapton reggae song comes on the radio. Right there, in the car, while the cop is leaning in my window and his breath is stank like Thai food and I'm trying to remember if Grand Theft Auto is a felony or just some shit they made up for the video game.
I'm sitting there, explaining to this dude about civil disobedience and Johnny Tremaine and all that, and about the legal precedent of Roper vs. Furley in 1968 and whatever else I can skewer onto the bullshit-kabob I'm cooking up for the guy, when I start to think I may have broken on through to the other side because there's no way this song comes on right then. I didn't even know the radio station had that record, as far as I can tell all they've got is one each from AC/DC and Pink Floyd that they picked up at a yard sale somewhere and they keep playing them again and again like your annoying ten year-old neighbor kid.
But sure as that cop's breath smelled like a loose Chinaman's ass they were playing the goddamned Clapton song. I think I may have screamed, quietly, when it came on, though I'm not sure if the cop looked uncomfortable because of that or just because he doesn't like...
º Last Column: Flaming Pogs & the Partial Robotomy
º more columns
So I'm sitting there, explaining to the sheriff about how if a pizza delivery dude leaves his car running in front of your house while he jets in to bring your gaywad neighbor a pizza, it's totally kosher to sprint out and take his car for a spin for a few days or whatever, when I shit you not, that Eric Clapton reggae song comes on the radio. Right there, in the car, while the cop is leaning in my window and his breath is stank like Thai food and I'm trying to remember if Grand Theft Auto is a felony or just some shit they made up for the video game.
I'm sitting there, explaining to this dude about civil disobedience and Johnny Tremaine and all that, and about the legal precedent of Roper vs. Furley in 1968 and whatever else I can skewer onto the bullshit-kabob I'm cooking up for the guy, when I start to think I may have broken on through to the other side because there's no way this song comes on right then. I didn't even know the radio station had that record, as far as I can tell all they've got is one each from AC/DC and Pink Floyd that they picked up at a yard sale somewhere and they keep playing them again and again like your annoying ten year-old neighbor kid.
But sure as that cop's breath smelled like a loose Chinaman's ass they were playing the goddamned Clapton song. I think I may have screamed, quietly, when it came on, though I'm not sure if the cop looked uncomfortable because of that or just because he doesn't like Clapton. Not that I'd blame him, you hear all about the police backlash when shit like "Fuck Tha Police" or "Cop Killer" comes out but nobody said a word when it was "I Shot the Sheriff," even though that's about as specific as you can get. I guess they don't take it seriously when it's a white guy singing the song. Or maybe most sheriffs are just pricks and the rest of the cops are just like "Right on."
Well, just my luck this guy actually is the sheriff, and I don't think he's a Clapton fan either. Not even when Clapton jammed with the Beatles and porked George Harrison's wife, and that's some pretty cold shit. I don't know what kind of music you're into if that doesn't do it for you; maybe he was a big fan of that Mexican polka shit that's always playing in the kitchen at restaurants. I guess somebody else has got to like that stuff, since it's not like a bunch of dishwashers own radio stations.
So I'm sitting there thinking this goddamned station just sank my battleship outright, since after I hit the water fountain I really only had the cop's good graces to bank on to avoid some kind of harsh retribution. I'm not sure what the penalty is for borrowing some random pizza guy's car and using it to practice your stunt driving, but I'm sure they'd at least make you walk home, which I wasn't too excited about.
All I can say is thank God I spent my childhood on up honing the ability to lie through my teeth. They had the pizza guy's license and registration, so I started going off about how I didn't look like the picture anymore because I'd had a sex change to become a woman, you know, because I thought it would be fun to have tits and stuff. But that hadn't worked out since then I couldn't sit out on my lawn with my shirt off anymore, so I got a sex change back, but they kind of fucked it up so when I shot out of the tube I didn't look the same as I had before. You think it's like the Sneetches in that one book, but it's actually much more complicated than that, yadda yadda yadda. Yeah, maybe it wasn't Shakespeare but it wasn't too bad considering the circumstances.
Actually I'm not sure if they believed my story at all, they might have just let me go because the deputy had to pee really bad. The way he was dancing around I thought he was excited to see how the story ended, which at the time I thought was pretty stupid since all he had to do was look around to see that it ended with a Fiesta covered in piñata fragments, half-submerged in a public fountain. So in retrospect I bet I was saved mainly by the length of my story and the size of the Big Gulp weighing down on the dude's bladder.
Which you know, isn't the most badass way to get away from the cops, since it didn't involve any Panamanian gun-runners or anything, but I'll take it. Bricks out. º Last Column: Flaming Pogs & the Partial Robotomyº more columns
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|  May 13, 2002
State of the ArtWell damn on Spam, Shorty, you never told me you was a artist! Yessir, that is one fine likeness you done skedoodled on the back of that there matchbook. Who you said that is, Cher? Who? Blinky the Pirate? Can't say as I ever hearda him, Shorty, but I'm sure it's a damn fine likeness. Kinda looks like Cher a bit, don't he?
That sure is one marvel to see there, Shorty. Dang. We ain't had no honest to Amos artist round these parts since I was knee-high to a horsefly. You remember Noodle McDougal, Shorty? Might've been afore your time, seeing as I is an always has been two months your senior. Yessir, Noodle was a artist like the kind they don't make everyday. He could draw a road apple an you'd think it was right there in your lap. He drew up a Mayberry pie one time so real that Oleanna Cardip done swole up her whole throat and near died, seein as she's allergic to Mayberries an all. Dang if that boy couldn't draw.
One time he challenged old Homer Bonetree to a drawin' contest. Now you remember Homer, Shorty, he talked a good game but he weren't good for much but fallin' out the back of a pickup truck on his weddin' day. Come to think of it, Homer Bonetree were dang near a fallin' machine. I'd say if there ever was a fallin' genius, it was Homer. He was famous in three counties for fallin' down a well that was already boarded up, and for the time he managed a way to fall out of a hole he'd dug in the ground. He might've even ended up on TV one day if...
º Last Column: Jeeter's Phenomenon
º more columns
Well damn on Spam, Shorty, you never told me you was a artist! Yessir, that is one fine likeness you done skedoodled on the back of that there matchbook. Who you said that is, Cher? Who? Blinky the Pirate? Can't say as I ever hearda him, Shorty, but I'm sure it's a damn fine likeness. Kinda looks like Cher a bit, don't he?
That sure is one marvel to see there, Shorty. Dang. We ain't had no honest to Amos artist round these parts since I was knee-high to a horsefly. You remember Noodle McDougal, Shorty? Might've been afore your time, seeing as I is an always has been two months your senior. Yessir, Noodle was a artist like the kind they don't make everyday. He could draw a road apple an you'd think it was right there in your lap. He drew up a Mayberry pie one time so real that Oleanna Cardip done swole up her whole throat and near died, seein as she's allergic to Mayberries an all. Dang if that boy couldn't draw.
One time he challenged old Homer Bonetree to a drawin' contest. Now you remember Homer, Shorty, he talked a good game but he weren't good for much but fallin' out the back of a pickup truck on his weddin' day. Come to think of it, Homer Bonetree were dang near a fallin' machine. I'd say if there ever was a fallin' genius, it was Homer. He was famous in three counties for fallin' down a well that was already boarded up, and for the time he managed a way to fall out of a hole he'd dug in the ground. He might've even ended up on TV one day if it weren't for him fallin' out that skymascraper window when he was on that tour in the big city.
Anywhat, Homer got to talkin' bout how he was the drawinest fool in town and how he could draw pictures of flies just as good as a McEnroy could draw flies for reals. And after a while Noodles MacDougal'd had about enough of Homer's braggety Andy routine, so he went an challenged Homer to a drawin' contest. So they sat themselves down in front o' Beulah Crankle's old Ford and set about each o' them drawin' a picture of it, tryin to do one better than what the other was drawin'. As that afternoon done slip away a crowd gathered all around to watch them draw, sittin' there lookin' as serious as two monkeys on a orange crate.
Judge Farkbarn elected himself to be the judge of they contest, seein as how his name was Judge an that seemed good enough to qualify him for the job. And so when the nighttime fell like Homer Bonetree out o' a rowboat, and it worked it's way around to bein' too dark to draw no more, Judge called that it was time an had both Noodles and Homer turn in they drawins.
An what he had there was for certain a sight to see, I tell you Shorty. For Noodles had gone an drew up a Ford so real you think you coulda climbed right in an drove it into town, 'cepting for it's miniature size an the fact of Buela Crankle's real Ford hadn't moved a modest foot in over twelve years. But dang if that wasn't the drawin' to beat all, Shorty.
So naturally the crowd what was there was eager to see what Homer done drew for hisself, an so they all looked at his drawin'. Some stared right hard, others turning it this way an that, upside an whatnot, before they one an all decided Homer couldn't draw a lick to save the baby Jesus' life. Homer's drawin' looked like a box with a stick stuck out of it, 'cept the box was crooked an all the lines was wavy.
Judge Farkbarn spoke out that Noodles was the unanimate winner, an that Homer drew like a big retard with hooks for hands. Everybody in town had themselves a good laugh about that, an Homer got all huffed up an climbed up a tree, then fell out an walked home.
From that day on, Shorty, weren't no person who didn't know Noodles MacDougal what was the finest artist in these parts. Even when he got older an got into his consexual arts, like paintin' pigs green or settin' a big stack o' tires on fire an callin' it art, he was still one sight to see. An you know what, Shorty? I may never myself have understood him tyin' all those possums together into a ball or walkin' around all nekkid with but a gas can on his head, but that's what made him the artist, Shorty. Kinda like you.
Say, Shorty, is that there Pirate all you can draw? Lessie what else you got. A turtle? You bet your canned ham I'd like to see a turtle. Dang, Shorty. You're one regular Vincent Monroe. º Last Column: Jeeter's Phenomenonº more columns
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Milestones2002: commune staffer writes this ìMilestonesî blurb, causing time to fold in on itself and destroy the universe.Now HiringCharles Bronson. Experienced Charles Bronson needed to pull off some Deathwish-style menacing to scare off Ivana Folger-Balzac once and for all. Five years Charles Bronson experience minimum. Please provide references, and filmography.Top commune Searches| 1. | Double-Buck Naked | | 2. | Runyuns | | 3. | Lil Duncan Lesbo Video | | 4. | Shamu's Splashtime Adventure | | 5. | Mark Buckles | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 2/5/2007 Buenos Greetings, America! Roland McShyster here, back on the attack and off the crack! What better way to celebrate the months we’ve been apart than to round up the top flicks of the past year? 2006 was a busy year for movies, and though I know my esteemed colleague Orson Welch took a crack at the same last issue, it says here that this town’s big enough for the two of us, and I do think it is as long as Orson keeps his shoes on. So without further adieu, let’s make some magic!
1. The Deep Hearted
The first film in recent memory to function as both a remake (of Jackie Chan’s incendiary classic Nutbusted) and a sequel (to 1974’s dark-side of Elmer Fudd classic The Deer Hunter), The Deep Hearted finally gives screen icon Jack...
Buenos Greetings, America! Roland McShyster here, back on the attack and off the crack! What better way to celebrate the months we’ve been apart than to round up the top flicks of the past year? 2006 was a busy year for movies, and though I know my esteemed colleague Orson Welch took a crack at the same last issue, it says here that this town’s big enough for the two of us, and I do think it is as long as Orson keeps his shoes on. So without further adieu, let’s make some magic!
1. The Deep Hearted
The first film in recent memory to function as both a remake (of Jackie Chan’s incendiary classic Nutbusted) and a sequel (to 1974’s dark-side of Elmer Fudd classic The Deer Hunter), The Deep Hearted finally gives screen icon Jack Nickelson a role he can sink his teeth into. Too bad it didn’t come along before his real teeth had rotted away due to lechery and extreme old age, but golf-enthusiast Nickelson sinks his day-glo white dentures into this role just the same. Vanilla Ice is almost as good playing Marky Mark in the supporting role, and both Math Damon and Leonardio Dicaprica shine at playing the same character at random intervals throughout the film.
2/3. Fags of Our Fathers/Letters from Hero Jim
The only thing hotter in Hollywood right now than butch-looking tough guys being gay is dudes going to war a long time ago to kill foreigners, but it still took the jaundiced eye of silver-screen megalegend Clint Eastwood to put two and two together and make two movies that each combine both ideas. Fags of Our Fathers came first (that’s what she said!), and turned American hearts upside-out with its stunning portrayal of American GIs and the guys they bungholed while they were overseas during WWII. But great as that film was, it was just Clint’s way of softening the ground for Letters from Hero Jim, the right-hook to Fathers’ jap. Or is it jab? I don’t know boxing terminology. Letters tells the story of two gay guys in the army writing to each other, but the twist you haven’t seen before is that one of them is actually in the distant past and is Japanese. Now be sure to pick up the pieces of your blown mind before we move on to the next film.
4. Babe!
Darker than the first two, sure, and lighter on the pig, but that’s just fine with me when you’re talking about a movie many thought shouldn’t be made. After the star of the first two films died in a horrible breakfast- making accident two short years ago, the weak- stomached of the movie watching community rose up in one voice and suggested that the blockbuster film series be laid to rest in this little piggy’s honor. Thankfully, Hollywood told those fruits to take a hike, and completed the epic trilogy in style. Brad Pitt brings a fresh-faced enthusiasm to his role as Babe’s handler on the little pig’s trans-continental journey to find something tasty buried just beneath the ground. Without a doubt, some of the best pig acting since 1998’s Copland.
5. The Queen
Hot on the heels of his smash success with The Doors, counterculture icon Olivier Stone rips the rock biopic genre a new one with this scathing look at the life and times of the most macho band ever to exist, Queen. Brit bombshell Hellen Mirren burns the screen down with her thick-mustached portrayal of musky sex God and Queen frontman Freddie Mercury, and the rest of the band is played by guys who could snap your neck with their breath. If you had a better time in a theater in 2006, you were high on something wicked and I’m calling the cops.
6. Lidle Missed Sunshine
This amazingly-fast response to the tragic death of Yankees pitcher Corey Lidle, who died months ago after trying to land his single-engine Cessna through the window of his Manhattan apartment, doesn’t deserve to be as good as it turned out, but there it is just the same. It’s films like this that make me wonder what the hell they’re doing over there, outside of America, and why can’t they make films this good.
7/8. Volver/Lucky Number Slevin
Dyslexia was the hot word for 2006, not that anyone could spell it. But Hollywood doesn’t have to be able to spell something to be able to cash in on it, as these two films specially-titled for the letter-ordering impaired were to prove. Surprisingly, they were both powerhouses. Actually, technically one was a powerhouse and the other was a brick house, but I’ll leave you to decide for yourselves which was which.
9. Untied 93
Finally, the truth comes out about why Gerald Ford fell down those airplane steps that fateful morning back a long time ago. Turns out his shoelaces were untied. Yeah, it sounds kind of anti- climactic when I say it just like that, but trust me, this movie will keep you riveted for the full 93 minutes as you see Ford’s shit-eating unfold in painstaking detail. Yeah, you know what’s gonna happen, but that just makes the film’s inevitable conclusion feel all the more tragic.
10. Preachy Home Companion
Although it’s not the kind of movie I’d usually like, since it’s not very good, Preachy Home Companion won me over by having a bunch of good-looking people singing a lot while at the same time showing why ugly people belong on radio. Private Parts tried to teach me the same lesson years ago, but for some reason it didn’t really sink in until this film. But it did, and consider me a changed man, America.
Until next time, I’m Roland McShyster, and you’re America. Try to wear it well.   |
