| Loves That Woman ';
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$dunkintitle='Highway to Hell';
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$fanmail='2005/0516/';
$fanmailtitle='Volume 63';
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$fingertitle='To Hell With This Desk';
$fortune='2002/020121/';
$goocher='2005/0711/';
$goochertitle='Gwar of the Worlds';
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$hanestitle='Pink is Not for Men';
$hartwig='2005/0606/';
$hartwigtitle='Parade';
$hooper='2005/0228/';
$hoopertitle='Vernon Hooper’s Fifth Syphilis';
$hurley='2005/0404/';
$hurleytitle='Time of Healing';
$kroeger='2005/0822/';
$kroegertitle='Charity Case';
$loser='2005/0822/';
$losertitle='Lost Leavings';
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$nedtitle='Cyantology';
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$pickletitle='State of the Art';
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$police='2005/0822/';
$polio='2005/0822/';
$poliotitle='WEASELS-B-GON';
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$renttitle='For the Last Time Deidrebane, Those Aren’t the Feds';
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$reynoldstitle='A Series of Unfortunate Evans';
$hartwig='2004/1206/';
$hartwigtitle='O Captain!';
$sickhead='2004/0419/';
$sickheadtitle='The Legendary Spot of Coco Hobari McSteve';
$ted='2005/0530/';
$tedtitle='The New War on Poverty';
$vanslyke='2005/0606/';
$vanslyketitle='Health Food is Full of Shit';
$zender='2005/0425/';
$zendertitle='The Sixth commune Enthusiasts Club Meeting';
?> | 
Byrne Ditches Naked Man at MallApril 1, 2002 |
Littlehead City, CA Ansel Evans David Byrne, appearing in a dream near you
Touchdowne, 32, a systems analyst for a California software firm, admitted that in reality, the two have never met.
"But in this dream I had the other night, not only did I get to meet David Byrne, but we spent what seemed like a whole lot of time together, just talking and doing things and stuff. First, I was just kind of walking along this beach, and I realized there was this guy right beside me, and when I looked, it turned out that it was David Byrne, former leader of the band Talking Heads...
It was so vivid, I could almost swear it really happened," said Littlehead City resident Wyatt Touchdowne about his recent dream involving prominent musician David Byrne. "I mean, we were hanging out together just like we'd been friends for a long time. It was really cool."
Touchdowne, 32, a systems analyst for a California software firm, admitted that in reality, the two have never met.
"But in this dream I had the other night, not only did I get to meet David Byrne, but we spent what seemed like a whole lot of time together, just talking and doing things and stuff. First, I was just kind of walking along this beach, and I realized there was this guy right beside me, and when I looked, it turned out that it was David Byrne, former leader of the band Talking Heads. So we were just walking along, and we were talking and everything, and then pretty soon we were riding in a car together. We got to this house, and I realized in the dream that it was the house I had lived in when I was a teenager. And then David Byrne came into the house with me! He was actually in the house I used to live in!"
"I remember we talked about music and all kinds of stuff, and he was really friendly, just very low-key and casual, and it was just a really very pleasant encounter. At one point I told him that sometimes when I listened to his music, either the things he said or the way he said them just made me laugh. I couldn't help it, I said, I just laughed. He thought that was pretty funny, and he told me in the dream about this part of one song that he sang by calling over the phone and then holding the receiver up to the microphone. That part was really amazing, you know? I mean, how many people get musical tips like that in their dreams from someone like David Byrne?"
"Anyway, so there we were in the living room, and then my mom and my sister came in the room, and then I think they asked me to go to the store or something, because the next thing I knew, the dream kind of shifted, and I realized I was at the mall, but I was standing there naked in front of the Hickory Farms store, and everyone was looking at me. So of course David Byrne was gone by then, but still, it was pretty cool that we got to hang out together."
Asked if it was common for him to have dreams about celebrities, Touchdowne admitted that he had also had dreams involving personalities such as Mick Jagger, Bruce Springsteen, Richard Nixon and Cameron Diaz, among others.
"One of the strangest ones was where I was hanging out with Harry Nilsson," Touchdowne said. "Harry was really cool and everything, but I kept remembering in the dream that he's really dead in real life. So in the dream, I kept saying, 'But aren't you dead? You're dead, aren't you?' He never answered me, but that particular dream never seemed as real as most of the others. Because how can you hang out with a dead guy, you know?"
When this reporter pointed out that Richard Nixon is also dead, Touchdowne replied, "He is? Really? Wow, when did that happen?"
Despite repeated calls to his publicist regarding Touchdowne's dream, Mr. Byrne was not available for comment. Here at the commune, we all dream of Bludney Plud, or whatever it is he's calling himself this week, just leaving us all the hell alone. Is that so much to ask?
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Rick Perry: "No, Goddammit, I'm not that Madea guy, stop asking that."
Cost for MasterCard to recover from devastating security hacking: priceless
Suspected mad cow just has poor coping skills
Wal-Mart, NetFlix join forces to wipe out small mail-order businesses
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Chief Justice Rehnquist: Dead as Disco at 80 he world sighed a mournful “Oh” upon hearing of the death of Chief Justice William Rehnquist, who led the U.S. Supreme Court for 19 years and formed the holy conservative trinity of the court. Rehnquist is the second justice to retire from the Supreme Court this year, and never to be outdone, Rehnquist chose the more dramatic exit method of death in office.
The Chief Justice announced his diagnosis of thyroid cancer last year and his refusal to retire from the Supreme Court, angering liberals and conservatives alike by his reluctance to make the playing field more interesting. Never one to quit, Rehnquist had suffered greatly in recent months from radiation for his cancer treatment and a tracheotomy, actually performed by an over-anxious boyscout on a visit to the nation’s capitol. Kansas City Royals Win Little League World Series n the midst of one of the most embarrassing seasons in baseball history, the lowly Kansas City Royals saved some face this week, defeating the defending champions from Willemstad, Curacao in a stunning upset to claim their first Little League World Series title. Kansas City took the game 7-6 on first baseman Matt Stairs’ takeout of Curacao catcher Willie Rifaela during a collision at the plate in the bottom of the 11th inning. Rifaela held onto the ball, but Stairs was ruled safe since Rifaela flew off the playing field at the moment of impact. “Willie gave it a hell of an effort,” praised Curacao manager Vernon Isabella. “Especially considering he was outweighed by nearly 200 pounds in the collision. If he hadn’t come out of his shoes like that when the American hit him, I think we could have held on to win the game.” Alec Baldwin Records Devastating Voice Mail Message for Shooter Sony’s Poorly Timed “PS3 Price Massacre” Backfires |
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 July 22, 2002
Volume 21Dear commune:
Ed Phillips here again. I've recently returned a little wiser from the Middle East. Like most Americans, I assumed the problem was simply based in religious differences and the insurmountable tumultuous history between Islamic and Jewish religions. I was more surprised than anybody to find out it was all over a hotel bill for a room shared by Ziggy Morgenstern and Al-Adid Shabozz back in 1967. I offered to pay the bill myself, it was only $34, but leaders on both sides were quick to stress it wouldn't make a difference. It was all the principle.
Needless to say, that started me thinking: How come you're not allowed to cook in motel or hotel rooms? It seems an incredible infringement on my rights as an American to not let me fry up some eggs and bacon on a hot plate in my own hotel room, making me survive on their continental breakfast alone. I'm not talking open-flame bonfires, believe me, I've learned my lesson after that fire three years ago. But even simple electric outlet appliance cooking is outlawed. Doesn't seem right.
I have recently collapsed the ass-section of my pants, though I hope they are repairable. I'll keep you informed on this situation as more progresses.
Ed Phillips
Hackensack, New Jersey
Dear Ed:
Thanks for the letter, and please keep us informed on the whole ass/pants story as it develops.
According to our Research Editor Griswald Dreck: "The...
º Last Column: Volume 20
º more columns
Dear commune: Ed Phillips here again. I've recently returned a little wiser from the Middle East. Like most Americans, I assumed the problem was simply based in religious differences and the insurmountable tumultuous history between Islamic and Jewish religions. I was more surprised than anybody to find out it was all over a hotel bill for a room shared by Ziggy Morgenstern and Al-Adid Shabozz back in 1967. I offered to pay the bill myself, it was only $34, but leaders on both sides were quick to stress it wouldn't make a difference. It was all the principle. Needless to say, that started me thinking: How come you're not allowed to cook in motel or hotel rooms? It seems an incredible infringement on my rights as an American to not let me fry up some eggs and bacon on a hot plate in my own hotel room, making me survive on their continental breakfast alone. I'm not talking open-flame bonfires, believe me, I've learned my lesson after that fire three years ago. But even simple electric outlet appliance cooking is outlawed. Doesn't seem right. I have recently collapsed the ass-section of my pants, though I hope they are repairable. I'll keep you informed on this situation as more progresses. Ed Phillips
Hackensack, New JerseyDear Ed:
Thanks for the letter, and please keep us informed on the whole ass/pants story as it develops.
According to our Research Editor Griswald Dreck: "The war between hotels/motels and in-room cooking dates back to 1647, when the first motel room fire was recorded starting in Ye Olde Two-Pence Inn, by a peasant guest who burned down six rooms in the inn with a small pocketfire for cooking grouse.
"Since then it has been illegal for guests of any hotel in any country, so decided by the International Terror Conspiracy of Hotel Owners and Operators, to cook in any form or fashion in any room. Part of it is fear of another hotel/motel fire, but a lot of it is because this gigantic conspiracy is just a bunch of dicks who are slow to forget grudges. In fact, it's proven that 92% of Americans are all descended from the dillhole who started the fire at the Ye Olde Two-Pence, Augustus Winterturd. So thanks to this grade-A medieval jackass we're all denied the pleasure of a hotplate-cooked hot dog, even in our enlightened age. Tough luck. Maybe if we all promise to not steal an abundance of towels, soaps, and shampoos, maybe order a few more in-room movies, they'll start giving us a little more leeway in this situation."
the commune
Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for the repeated publishing of letters by Ed Phillips. He sends us about 75 a month, so really, you're getting a fair statistical representative of our reality.º Last Column: Volume 20º more columns
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|  July 8, 2002
Stick a Fork in the Whole Damn TeamHey, I can't pitch like Satchel Paige. Hell, I can't even pitch like Jimmy Page. But I'll tell you one thing. The Macon Turdburglars are the worst team on earth. I saw them "play" the Grand Junction Shuttlecocks last night and it was a spectacle that made me ashamed to be a man, let alone a Maconite.
Minor league baseball has often been reviled in popular culture, long considered a playground for the uncoordinated, the home of stumbling, oafish, slow-witted ballplayers of questionable athletic talent who are cursed with an unfounded determination. And it's true: you've come to the wrong place if you want to see slick-fielding supermen who sometimes turn double plays and hardly ever step out of their own jock straps when swinging for a home run. But minor league baseball has always held a unique charm for its fans: It's really cheap. Like sneaking generic cookies into the second-run theater cheap. Like finishing off a warm beer that somebody left sitting on top of the trashcan cheap. So penny-clenching baseball fans have come to expect a lower level of play in exchange for the cut-rate admissions they're playing, and they accept it. Up to a point. Well beyond that point lie the Macon Turdburglars, who are so stupefyingly inept that attending one of their games should count as community service in the eyes of the court.
The game I attended last night was about par for the season. In the third inning,Manyon Durbing, the shortstop for the Shuttlecocks,...
º Last Column: Take Them Out to the Guillotine
º more columns
Hey, I can't pitch like Satchel Paige. Hell, I can't even pitch like Jimmy Page. But I'll tell you one thing. The Macon Turdburglars are the worst team on earth. I saw them "play" the Grand Junction Shuttlecocks last night and it was a spectacle that made me ashamed to be a man, let alone a Maconite. Minor league baseball has often been reviled in popular culture, long considered a playground for the uncoordinated, the home of stumbling, oafish, slow-witted ballplayers of questionable athletic talent who are cursed with an unfounded determination. And it's true: you've come to the wrong place if you want to see slick-fielding supermen who sometimes turn double plays and hardly ever step out of their own jock straps when swinging for a home run. But minor league baseball has always held a unique charm for its fans: It's really cheap. Like sneaking generic cookies into the second-run theater cheap. Like finishing off a warm beer that somebody left sitting on top of the trashcan cheap. So penny-clenching baseball fans have come to expect a lower level of play in exchange for the cut-rate admissions they're playing, and they accept it. Up to a point. Well beyond that point lie the Macon Turdburglars, who are so stupefyingly inept that attending one of their games should count as community service in the eyes of the court. The game I attended last night was about par for the season. In the third inning,Manyon Durbing, the shortstop for the Shuttlecocks, hit a grounder into the outfield. A routine single, should they have been playing the Little Oak Oakies or the Sacramento Rehab Saints. It ended up being an inside-the-park homerun, because the TB's left fielder, J.B. Frisco, couldn't find the ball. I'm serious, it rolled out there and Frisco lost sight of it when he was distracted by a plane flying overhead, and then it was just gone. Durbing kept running around the bases, thinking he might be able to score some extra runs all by himself. This got the rest of the team excited and guys came pouring out of the dugout and ran around the bases behind Durbing, in case there was some kind of scoring loophole involved in losing the ball in fair territory. The ump stopped Manyon after his third time around because he was afraid the kid would have a heat stroke. By that time this happened, the Shuttlecocks had scored 54 runs on the ground ball and Frisco still hadn't found it. He wandered around the outfield for a while with his hands on his hips, looking at the ground kind of funny, and had peeked in his glove in case it had rolled up in there on a lark. He squatted down and checked the ground for gopher holes, and glanced up into the sky a few times. After a while he jogged off into the dugout to take a leak, then came back and looked for the ball some more. After about a half an hour the ump declared it a ghost ball and the section of shallow left field between second and third was roped off and blessed by a man carrying a snake. After a call from the official scorer to a radio call-in show, Durbing's hit was ruled a ducentasedecle, the first ever 216 base hit in the history of professional baseball.The Shuttlecocks ended up winning the game 53-1, since they had a run taken away for gloating in the eighth inning. Macon's lone run was scored by right fielder Scooter Busch, who was hit by a pitch on his way to the on-deck circle. He was hit by three more pitches while on the basepaths, and though the Turdburglars were grateful for the run, they suspected that some of the pitches may not have been unintentional. Aficionados of minor league baseball history (and you know who you are, Ted and Virgil) often point to the Laughlin Cookie Eaters as the worst team in Minor League history. Direct comparisons are moot, since the Cookie Eaters went the way of the dodo long ago, but I have little doubt that should they ever have gone toe-to-toe with the Macon Turdburglars, the TBs would have taught them a hard lesson about what it really means to suck. And if I hadn't been banned from the stadium for life after hitting the TB's mascot with a roll of quarters, I'd be down there demanding my 85 cents back right now. º Last Column: Take Them Out to the Guillotineº more columns
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Quote of the Day“The day destroys the night, the night divides the day, carry the four, times the weekend, round up from seven, and: Presto! 14. Not sure what that means, I'll get back to you next album.”
-Gin OrbisonFortune 500 CookieMonkeys and live electrical wire are a bad combo for you this week. Try combing your hair with a rake—hey, maybe those jokers were right. You will quit smoking this week, and upgrade to the syringe. Don't take any shit from the crippled, elderly, or the extremely weak: pretty much anybody you can get your girlfriend to beat up. This week's lucky burritos: Refried Revenge, Chock-Full- O-Olives, The Grand Mal, Nuthin-But-Sour- Cream, El Sleeping Bag, Someone Beaned My Ass Tonight.
Try again later.Most Feared Cancers| 1. | Expensive Pet Cancer | | 2. | Smellanoma | | 3. | Cancer of the Ugly | | 4. | Cancer of the Girlfriend's Tits | | 5. | Whatever Strom Thurmond Has | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 9/2/2002 What a shitty prom date we've got this week, America. I'm not kidding folks, there isn't dick coming out in the next fortnight. And it looks like I'm the one left holding the dead broad's head when the music has stopped, because I've still got to write about it either way. At least we can get some Ask Roland rolling here to keep the kids off the streets:
Q. Hey Roland, when they set some dude on fire in the movie, how does he keep from going all blind and shit? I mean, I know they've got him in some kind of special flame-retarded suit so he doesn't get his biscuits burned or nothing, but it's still got to be pretty bright to be on fire like that, don't you think? I don't know about you, but I'd be wishing for some Oakleys or something if I was ever on fire like...
What a shitty prom date we've got this week, America. I'm not kidding folks, there isn't dick coming out in the next fortnight. And it looks like I'm the one left holding the dead broad's head when the music has stopped, because I've still got to write about it either way. At least we can get some Ask Roland rolling here to keep the kids off the streets:
Q. Hey Roland, when they set some dude on fire in the movie, how does he keep from going all blind and shit? I mean, I know they've got him in some kind of special flame-retarded suit so he doesn't get his biscuits burned or nothing, but it's still got to be pretty bright to be on fire like that, don't you think? I don't know about you, but I'd be wishing for some Oakleys or something if I was ever on fire like that.
Marc Blanst, Toronto, ON
A.Good question, Marc. Actually, it's not, but I'm required by our insurance company to say that. Since when do they have the Internet in Canada? I hope you didn't have to break into the US embassy to send that. I don't know about the sunglasses, I always just figured those guys kept their eyes closed when they were on fire, since they're usually just stumbling around and flailing their arms like I would be if my eyes were closed. It's not like you see a lot of people typing or doing needlepoint while they're on fire in the movies.
Q. Roland, what do you think of the latest Sight and Sound Magazine critics poll of the greatest movies ever? Don't you think it's just intellectual snobbery that inspired them to not include a single film since 1980? What about Tootsie? What a bunch of needledicks. I wish they would get the cancer and die.
Linda Desantis, Port Richey, FL
A. You're exactly right, Linda, except the part about Tootsie. Let's not get carried away here. While most of the last 20 years have been crap, I challenge anyone out there to watch a film made before 1972. You just can't do it. And if you can, your friends and family should end their suffering now and have you committed for being clinically boring.
All right, I guess we'd best get the movies out of the way. Hold your breath kids, it's a long tunnel.
In Theaters
City by the Sea
Did anybody else hear that Robert DeNiro died about three years ago? Nobody told me anything about it, but it must be true since someone apparently has gone to the trouble of digging him up from his grave to star in this turkey. He actually does pretty well for a guy who's animated only by a car battery that's alligator-clipped to his anus, but no amount of pancake make-up can cover up the fact that his nose falls off about twenty minutes into the film. To be fair, it's one of the best zombie-puppet performances since Chris Farley starred in Wagons West six months after he died, but it's still not enough to salvage this soggy epic. To be honest, I'm not sure what kind of script approval a dead DeNiro rates these days, but you still like to think he'd find some way to turn down a script who's central conceit involves one fogey's frantic race to counsel his son, who's embarrassed to come home because he walked through some wet cement and ruined his new Reeboks. Been there, done that, Hollywood.
fear dot com
Well, at least there is one small thing to get excited about this week. Dorf is back! And if this isn't proof of the law of supply and demand, I don't know what is. Middle-aged idiots the world over have been crowing for years for a funny little perverted midget to come and teach them how to use the Internet, and Dorf has finally answered. No surprise there. Though I am a little shocked at the decision to release this special interest video as a big-budget feature film, I guess they're anticipating some pretty high demand. And that's understandable; there are a lot of overpaid simpletons out there who would probably stick the mouse up their asses in search of a kinky thrill if they were left alone with the computer unsupervised for long enough. So what the hell, you know? Slap an intimidating title on the thing, throw in a few oil-tanker explosions and a bazooka fight and you've got some slack-jawed popcorn fun all over your pants before you know it. Incidentally, Dorf dazzles on screen as always, showing unprecedented acting range and impressively nimble physical comedy for a guy who always looks like his feet are nailed to the floor.
Swimfan
Wisely changing the film's title from the evocative but easily-confused Shitfit, those faceless Hollywood bigwigs are at it again, trying to sell us on another warmed over "girls are insane" cautionary tale of a film. Hip to the fact that cramming yet another gooey giblet into America's already stuffed gut often leads to abdominal pain and unsightly gas, the filmmakers have tried to spice things up a bit by tying the whole thing into the mesmerizing new world of the Internet. This is nothing new, as a fevered desire to cash in on the popularity of the Internet has resulted in several Internet-themed film titles lately, from AOL's 40 Days and 40 Nights to Big Fat Logon and the gay porn epic Manhandle. Lame as the effort is, still, that girl from the Traffic video is convincing as every frat boy's worst nightmare, and her balls-out performance will ensure that Americans stay afraid of women and their emotions until at least next year, when Reese Witherspoon will play a heavily-tattooed extreme sports star who goes lovenuts on Brendan Fraser and kills his pet rabbit with a somersaulting speed boat.
Well, that's it, America. I told you it was grim. And the scary thing is that the fall has just begun. You might want to brush up on your eavesdropping or buy a puppy or something until the real movies get back from vacation in November. Just a thought. As for me, I'll be in the theaters as always, taking one for the team. You can't miss Roland McS, he's the one in the back row with the hari kari sword across his lap. Until then America, keep 'em hangin.   |
