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5/27/26   
Land of the freaks, home of the babes
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China Killing Cats Like It Was Going Out of Style

January 12, 2004
Guangzhou, China
Alton Onus
Chinese police taking feline suspects in for “questioning”
W
ith the second confirmed case of SARS reported in the Guangdong province last week, the Chinese government has stepped up its campaign to wipe out all animals with the potential for carrying the virus, including the “four dangers”: cats, little yappy dogs, loud tropical birds and those goldfish with the gross big eyes. Despite accusations that this is just the Chinese government’s excuse to get rid of millions of annoying pets, officials insist the mass slaughter is necessary to ensure the public health.



The central focus of the crackdown has been cats, a delicacy in China and finer trailer parks around the United States and personal pet peeve of Chinese President Hu Jintao. Cats were targeted after rumors surfaced that China’s first SARS case of the season, a 3...Read more...


Stupid Mexican dog talks but not in English

Gonzo shot from cannon, fulfilling Muppet's greatest wish

Elephant tagging in Malaysia: slow elephants always "it"

Iraqi extremists boast killing 15 policemen, all ten-foot tall ninjas



August 23, 2004

Click for Biography

Up Your Ass: A Brief History of Hand Gestures Pt. 2

Few popular hand gestures have as varied a meaning around the globe as the ubiquitous "thumbs-up" gesture, a poorly-named motion since it rarely, except in the case of huge assholes, is performed with both thumbs. But while the dual thumbs-up means "I'm a cock" in nearly every corner of the globe, the single-thumbed variety can mean anything from "I've recovered from my head injury" to "I think this would fit up your ass." Knowing the differences in local translation can save one not only from social embarrassment, but massive anal trauma as well.

Most modern historians place the gesture's origin in Roman times, when coliseum crowds would determine a fallen gladiator's fate by giving either a thumbs-up ("Fuck 'em!") or a thumbs-down ("Kill the shit out of him!"). The gladiator would die either way, but people in those days liked to feel like they had some say in things, whether they actually did or not. The only way the gladiator could actually be spared would be if the Caesar gave the dreaded "He's kind of cute!" hand-waggle, in which case the gladiator's wounds would be treated and he'd be dressed in a muscle shirt for the pleasure of the Caesar.

Art historians and the strange souls who have dedicated their academic lives to the study of hand gestures often argue and get into bar brawls over the meaning of the Roman thumbs–up/down gestures, some believing that thumbs-down meant "swords down" and others arguing that it meant "you're a dick."...Read more...


º Last Column: Hey, Fuck You: A Brief History of Hand Gestures
º more columns


September 16, 2002

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Lawsuit Settled, Advantage: Bagel

The good news here in the commune offices is my court case has resulted in a nice out-of-court settlement. The bad news is… well, I'll get to the bad news in due course.

Frequent readers of my column, or actually anyone who read the last one, will remember that I was taking legal action against the author of the play based on my life, without my authorization, Ching! Ching! I Owe Fred Scarsdale A Lot of Money. My lawsuit was on the fasttrack toward a big fat payoff for the commune, and me in particular, when we found out the author of the play was none other than black sheep of the commune family Raoul Dunkin. Now, insiders and outsiders with insider contacts know that Raoul Dunkin was the first reporter hired when the commune made the jump from publishing on the back of pre-published pamphlets to the internet, where the overhead was considerably lower and the journalistic standards likewise lower. Which made it all the harder when he and his money-hungry blade backstabbed me and his brethren by running off to become a hot-to-trot M-TV veejay.

Apparently, M-TV and Dunkin were a poor match from the get-go and even the coveted 3-5 a.m. timeslot couldn't make him a star. He pink-slipped that job and ended up writing plays off-off-Broadway, specifically the Vlanch Community Theater in Vlanch, Pennsylvania. Which is where I saw the Fred Scarsdale bit. Cut to September of 2002, and a very pissed-off Red Bagel demanding compensation. Now...Read more...


º Last Column: I Want Compensation for the Play Based on My Life
º more columns






Quote of the Day
“If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it must be Microsoft's new Futuretron 3000 Duck Simulator. That's almost a duck!”

-Rodney Cheesesteak
Fortune 500 Cookie
When kicking out at opponents this week, aim for the nuts—always a good strategy. It's time to let that baby shark go home to its mama; it's been two years and you've got to take a bath sometime. Look forward this week to a final showdown with your mortal nemesis, Weezer. But watch out for the Rentals to intervene.


Try again later.
Top 5 Questions in the Wake of the Harry Whittington Shooting
1.How come it took so long to find out there were no weapons of mass destruction?
2.Why do they call it birdshot instead of leadshot? And, as a follow-up, what's buckshot?
3.What did Whittington know, and when?
4.When exactly did Brangelina hear about it?
5.So, where do you wanna eat?
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 Martha Vandella
5/30/2005
Self-Fornicated
Kiss me, you beast with the golden toes
the arches of your eyebrows like a broken McDonald's sign
the smacky wetness of your lips like the maw
of a paint-stained flower (love me, Venus Flytrap)

Absorb me
swallow me whole
crush my bones with teeth
chewing me like Laffy Taffy

I am whole once again
your are a hole, once again
I fall into you
never hitting bottom

I am a bowel movement
squeezing from your rectum
into the big porcelain void that is you
out of you (into you again)

My heart is like a snake eating itself
or a penis tucked into its owner's butthole
like the disgusting imagery in a Museum of the Grody
and I am the custodian

I am...Read more...

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