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9/12/26   
Red Bagel schlepped here
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homecommune Staff Biographiescommune news20,000 Seats Beneath the League with Stan AbernathieOr So You Thought with Red BagelBook RevoltBoris is Gay with Boris UtzovMy Friend Polio with Omar BricksMy Dearest Deidrebane with Carlisle P. ChesterfeldChild Star with Clarissa ColemanThe Best of Joel DickmanNo Shit? with Griswald DreckOne Sane Man with Raoul DunkinEditorial CartoonsFanmail from Some Flounders: Letters to the EditorGiving You the Finger with Rok FingerThe Hanes Identity with Mickey HanesSampson L. Hartwig RemembersShort ‘N’ Sweet with Stan HooperPoop of the Century with Ramrod HurleyAmerican Jesus with Mitch KroegerYou Can’t Win with Alamo CruiseFortune 500 Cookies with Mazie the ChickenManifestos of FunMe Chinese with Ned NedmillerSittin’ Around the Pickle Barrel with Shorty and JeterPoetry CoronerEntertainment Police: Movie and Television ReviewsThis Space for Rent: Guest ColumnistsGlass Ceiling Fan with Thelma ReynoldsClarise Sickhead’s Bedtime StoriesGoddammit! with Ted TedReflections of a Goocher with Stu UmbrageThe World Vs. Homer Vanslykecommune Club with Emil Zender

Presidential Debate Offers No Clear LoserOctober 4, 2004
Washington, D.C.
Whit Pistol
Debate moderator warns the audience the real loser will be any joker who tries to streak the debate like that Bob Dylan "Soy Bomb" guy.
T
hursday night’s presidential debate between John Kerry and George W. Bush had a strong ratings showing, and allowed the candidates to outline their future platforms, especially regarding foreign policy and Iraq. However, no candidate clearly fumbled the ball and shot himself in the foot with his big mouth, meaning the disappointing debate ended without a clear loser.

With a month left to go before the election, the debate provided one of the most visible opportunities for either of the two leading candidates to piss the election down his leg, whether through a verbal slip-up, a glaring faux pas, or farting directly into the microphone. Some election-watchers speculate the senior Bush performed just such a metaphorical gas outburst in 1992, when during a debate with future p...Read more...


Thousands Googling "weiner sext" Forced to Read About Politics Bullshit

Fat kids everywhere cheer national trend toward declining P.E. classes

Automatic bread-butterer butters wrong goddamned side

9/11 Memory Honored with Destruction of Sears Tower



April 29, 2002

Click for Biography

Sing a Song of Ecnepxis

Ever since we heard Eddie Albert scream out "Dutch Whores!" at the beginning of TV's Green Acres, we've all been curious about hidden messages in popular songs. From the suburban teen getting a much needed self-esteem boost from Ozzy Ozborne's Suicide Solution to the congressman who desperately needs to figure out the lyrics to Louie, Louie before a press conference, nobody wants to be the last kid on the block to know what a song really means. But it's not always easy, between forgetful vocalists garbling their lyrics and clever rockers mixing backward paeans to Satan into their love songs.

The first known instance of a backwards message in a pop song is widely agreed to be Johnny Kidd and the Pirates' 1960 hit Shakin' All Over, which contained the phrase "Listen you tit, the tape's gone in backways" playing in reverse during the chorus.

But it was the Beatles who were the King Tut of hidden backwards lyrics, and they pulled off their ultimate coup in 1968, when they released The White Album, which was actually an entire Laurence Welk album played backwards. The world might never have been the wiser if it weren't for some meddling acid casualties who somehow managed to play the record backwards after dropping the record player into their bathtub in an attempt to hear what the album would sound like to fish.

But regardless, the word got out and before long drug people with serious welfare connections...Read more...


º Last Column: Where for Art Thou, Jimmy Hoffa?
º more columns


February 18, 2002

Click for Biography

I Fear the Olsen Twins Are Space Pilgrims

I do not wish to set a precedent for presenting unfounded conspiracy theories to the American public. I have stringent guidelines for material I accept and in turn present to you, and if I have no evidence I deem concrete, say pictures, documents, or someone has mentioned it to me at a night club, I file it away upstairs (in the attic) until something solid presents itself. However, my fears cannot stay quieted. I have begun to theorize the Olsen Twins are space pilgrims.

The cuddly Olsen Twins from ABC's Full House and countless straight-to-video productions? The same, conspiracy buffs.

The wide-eyed, thin-smiled pre-pubescent clones may seem innocent enough, especially to the young or retarded. But the more innocent the doily the more insidious the teapot lurking underneath, or so my mad grandmother used to say.

It is my theory that the Olsen Twins in fact started out as one baby, born to an American woman impregnated with alien DNA during an abduction—this is not news, of course, the whole alien abduction/impregnated with alien DNA is so old school conspiracy theory it's fairly boring. The interesting aspect here, and I've been looking into this, is that the baby quickly acclimated superhuman intelligence and formed a scheme with its mother where she profits from its salary while the alien baby infiltrated American consciousness at its most cultish level—television. Of course, the trend is to hire twins to play one...Read more...


º Last Column: Chuck E. Cheese is Using Child Labor to Cook Pizza
º more columns






Quote of the Day
“No man is an island. But I have met several women I would like to live on for the rest of my life.”

-John Donne Juan
Fortune 500 Cookie
By the pricking of my thumb I have really fucked up my keyboard playing. Trust in a higher power this week—the Waffle King knows what he's doing. Why be merely happy when you could be shit-yer-drawers happy? The world is you oyster, which explains that nauseating fish smell you can't escape. Lucky hammers roofing, jack, ball peen, MC.


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Top Rejected Cars
1.Honda Pfffttpp
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4.Ford Theater
5.He Ain't Chevy He's My Brother
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 Zanzibar McNally
3/31/2003
Curses
I curse you with the spirit of Ralhallah,
for charging me
this late fee, Blockbuster.
The one-eyed stare of Tulanjabi
will seal the fate of thee, cock-buster.
And you, over there, you Jiffy Lube:
I reserve for you the Pains of Urdubaas
for trying to sell me bullshit every time
I turn around or scratch my ass.

The Dripping Testicle of Mosumbanc…
oh shit, that one's too good to spoil it.
I think I'll save that for Citibank
for calling while I'm on the toilet.

The Yestrambrudi Oldamthan,
which makes one's scrotum tender,
I save for my cocksucking mailman.
That should return his shit to sender.

The Curse of Shazit Amanull
is just what the doctor ordered
for that bitch who...Read more...

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