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Academy Fucks Up commune Oscar Pool Something Awful

April 1, 2002
Hollywood, CA
Junior Bacon
Denzel & Halle: Thanks for the heads-up, Hollywood
P
roving once and for all that you don't have to be white to win a token acting award, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences kissed it's own ass Sunday by awarding the Best Actor and Best Actress Oscars to known black people Denzel Washington and Halle Berry.

A move trumpeted as ground-breaking and courageous by Academy publicists and people trying to sell newspapers nation-wide, the Academy was deftly able to both punish Russell Crowe for acting like an asshole (and for doing an action movie in 2000, making them look bad for giving him his 1999 The Insider Oscar that year), and open the door to give Tom Hanks another Oscar the next year there's an outstanding black actor in a leading role. Unless, of course, Robert DeNiro or Sean Penn get really sick and the Ac...Read more...


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

Less attractive woman kicked out of bed for eating crackers

Flood-based sitcoms and movie scripts shelved indefinitely

Airline wireless opens door to "Help! We're crashing!" prank calls



September 1, 2003

Click for Biography

Crammed in the Closet

So it turns out my sister's gay. Quite a big bomb-dropping, for a regular family, I guess. If you ask me it's just a ninth-inning attempt to reinvent herself like a third-rate Madonna, or a 1970s David Bowie. Anything to liven up her boring life and make herself more noticeable in a family spilling over the brim with shwat-a-veev—whatever it is the French call it.

Of course, she has her own story: That she's always been gay, that ugly dude she went to the prom with was actually a lesbian, and she told me this all before. I suppose it's possible I'd forget it, if I was watching TV or thinking about something else. When I get hungry I can't concentrate on nothing. But I still say she's making up this whole life as being gay just to be more interesting—backstory, that's the acting term we use.

She introduced me to her checkmate, or whatever the cool new term for it is, and we didn't get along very well. I didn't remember her name at all and kept calling her "Marcy," like that chick in the Peanuts cartoon. Like I'm the one who cut her hair into a bob and made her wear glasses. I tried to get along with her for my sister's sake, I really did, but the bitch was saying all kinds of stuff to bait me. Like she had never seen my show before and that it must have been tough being a child actress. I told her it must have been tough being a lesbian for her, and she took it like I was serious, instead of implying it was hard for her to find women to date...Read more...


º Last Column: The Good Books
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June 20, 2005

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A Throat Too Deep

Every true conspiracy-buster like myself has one big, secret wish: A real inside source that can't stop talking.

To which I say: "Be careful what you wish for!"

Sir, I have such a source, and this guy simply can't shut up. I don't know if it's a psychological ailment or just a simple case of verbal diarrhea, but I've found the source that can't stop giving. It's like that duck that can't stop laying golden eggs, and if there isn't such a fairy tale, there should be. Honestly, I never thought there was anything worse than a source that stonewalls you, that gives you nothing (we in fact call these sources "non-sources"), but this blabbermouth has got the dirt on everybody and can't wait to share it.

It sounded like my fondest wish when a connection of mine, let's call him Scottie, because that would really offend his Scottish heritage, calls me up with what he calls "the greatest source in the world." I should have known something was wrong, because the last time I talked to this connection he was quite pissed off because I kept calling him "Scottie." But I've run cold on the trail of the Biggest Conspiracy of the World (or BCW, as us fans call it), so I was anxious for anything to start me up again.

I met with this guy, and first it was like that golden egg-laying duck, and I was like the duck's owner, and quite happy. This was last week, and with all that stuff in the media about the "real Deep Throat" going around, I...Read more...


º Last Column: The Siege of Paris
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Quote of the Day
“I am the very model of a modern major general. Perhaps this explains my inability to move my limbs and the pungent smell of airplane glue.”

-Gilgamesh Sullivan
Fortune 500 Cookie
You will get kicked in the balls for a good cause this week. Expect a telephone call from a long forgotten friend today—your split personality from Belgium. Lose the mustache, that "Hitler" look is so 1997. This week's stomach-pump jackpot: $20 in loose change, long-lost stash, grandma's favorite knitting needles, Nerds.


Try again later.
Top Freak Dancing Steps
1.The Funky Jock
2.Running Teenage Father
3.Shotgun Wedding
4.The Discarded Fetus
5.The Shut Up This Is Just How I Dance
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 Violet Tiara
8/23/2004
Whistlepig
Loud and sweet,
the howling of the whistlepig
erects my nipples like
sails taut in the wind.

Sailfish taught me to win
by cheating at cards,
like a cardinal at charms
or an oriole with arms.

Whistlepig, whistlepig,
let me in,
caught by the hair
on your skinny tin fin.

It's just my luck to get fucked
on a wagon by Chuck
who'd suck a duck for a buck!

Old Spice tastes nice on rice,
but for half the price a calf with lice
will cough in your soup—delicious!

Pernicious rumors spread by baby boomers
ruined my rep at the shipyards.
But playing cards with retards
will even get you barred from Menards.

Vietnam was the...Read more...

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