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6/11/26   
Smells like teen spirit, mixed with cat piss
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Santa Claus Vetoing All Requests for Paris Hilton Video

December 22, 2003
Christmastown, North Pole
AP
Claus and Hilton (inset), two names on seemingly everyone’s lips this time of year
D
espite its popularity on Christmas wish lists the world over, Santa Claus called the commune offices this week to announce regretfully that he would not be fulfilling any requests for the Paris Hilton sex video this year.

The video in question features the 22-year-old hotel heiress engaging in several coal-worthy sex acts with then boyfriend Rick Solomon. While readily available for illegal download on the Internet, many had hoped for a handsomely packaged VHS or DVD copy they could proudly display in their movie collection this Christmas, a wish that Claus will be unable to fulfill for multiple reasons.

“Even if I approved of the content, I can’t even get my hands on the thing,” explained Santa. “They don’t offer broadband access at the North Pole, ...Read more...


eBay halts sale of three Vietnamese sex slaves over postage dispute

OPEC boosts production on oil-shortage excuses

Argentine protestors appeal to American sense of utter chaos

Seriously, Iceland? Again? WTF?



June 24, 2002

Click for Biography

Cesarean Sections are Overrated

Piss on the shitdick who says Omar Bricks doesn't have any culture; I went to the opera last weekend. I picked up a ticket from some guy in a pillow-quilted jacket down by the bus station on the way home on Friday, and Saturday night I was there at the opera house, dressed to the nines in the flashiest translucent shirt any of those crusty old shits had ever seen.

I told whoever's grandpa it was taking the tickets that I wanted to be seated in the Cesarean Section, because I hadn't had time to stop by the sporting goods store to pick up any binoculars on the way over and Omar Bricks doesn't pay good money not to enjoy an opera with all four senses. I'd wanted to swing by Kleggman's to get a pair of those gigantic 'nocs you see the cops use in the movies, the ones that are so damn big you can see what the dude ate for lunch when he hits those high notes, you know what I'm talking about? Now that's fuckin' opera. But my bus doesn't swing over that way and I'm not about to hoof it ten blocks just so I can count the fat rolls on some chick in a Viking helmet. And there's no point in wasting a night sitting up in the nosebleeds where you'll never see the beer guy again after the first act anyway.

Turns out the crusty old bastard thought I was kidding, as if Omar Bricks looks like he couldn't afford the good seats. Which is totally true, but where the hell does he get off? Lucky for him he reminded me of the dad from Diff'rent Strokes or...Read more...


º Last Column: Miracle in a Bottle
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February 5, 2007

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Whatever Happened to Baby Bagel?

As you can tell, sir, the commune is back and better than nothing. Also, better than we previously were. I for one am quite chagrinned at our long absence from the Internet, and anyone who knows me can tell you it's very difficult for me to be chagrinned because of how much I hate using the word "grin" in a sentence. And now I've used it three times. I won't need to use it again until 2010, and I make that pledge to myself now.

Many of you are undoubtedly wondering what happened. Or, speaking completely honestly, most of you are wondering how you got here from your friend's blog, just because you clicked on the underlined words "cheap imitation" or the like. I know, though, that commune fan Emil Zender and his many followers are asking what the hell happened to us last year, and I haven't been sleeping on the job in finding out either. Honestly, I haven't slept since maybe November, and then it was only a quick nap. You'll all be happy to know, those who care, that my thousands of dollars invested in discovering the problem have discovered the problem. It's a fine feeling, like when you go looking for your car keys and you find them in the last place you look—usually for me the bathtub, where they were playing stand-in for the sailboat.

I had the good fortune to hire renowned private investigator Pierre Banjo. If you haven't heard of him, I'm not surprised, he's not that kind of renowned. He's only renowned with the people he tells about his...Read more...


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Quote of the Day
the commune is back? All right! Wait, what the fuck is the commune? What? Now I’m going to kick your ass for getting me excited for nothing.”

-Ron Tangley
Fortune 500 Cookie
This is the week everything changes for you. Yep, even those underwear. Go get a spatula. We all agree that your breasts are attractive, but usually a guy needs a follow-up act to really reel in the ladies. Try learning to play the lute this week, just carrying it around isn’t impressing anyone. This week’s lucky fuckers: Fucker G. Robinson (the world’s second-richest and seventh-most-unfortunately-named man), mother, Megan Fox’s boyfriend, and whoever’s sleeping with that hot girl on the Morton’s Salt container (oh get over it, she’s totally grown up by now).

Try again later.
Top Fake Names Used for Fraudulent Repeat Voting
1.Reginald Bushsucks
2.Jon Bon Jovi
3.Sir Votesalot
4.John Jacob Jesushammersshit
5.Barack Obama
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 Red Bagel
10/4/2004
A Fistful of Tannenbaum Chapter 7: Bomb of Ages
Editor's Note: Cornered by Surprise Truck, and put to a moment of truth, intrepid hero Jed Foster experiences guilt when his longtime non-gay friend, Reilly, volunteers for the suicide mission of trying to shut down the truck, while love interest Paulette Standiford and Foster escape on motorcycleback.

Wham-Bash! Before they knew it, Reilly had managed to climb into the truck's cab and pulled the emergency brake. He had said it would be certain suicide, and it certainly was; the truck flipped over, rolled a couple dozen times, exploded into fire, and then landed on a facility where the small pox virus was stored. In the mix of smoke, flames, and airborn infections, Jed and Paulette couldn't make out anything.

"Shit in a windtunnel!" exclaimed Paulette....Read more...

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