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Iraq Withdrawal Bill Threatened With White House VitoApril 2, 2007 |
Washington, D.C. Junior Bacon President Bush visits Congress for last-minute negotiations before the Iraq withdrawal bill Thursday; burly pal "White House Vito" Pantusi brings out his "negotiators" for the visit. otes along party lines heralded the passing of Congress' new military budget, which would allow $122 billion in funding with the stipulation that all troops be removed from Iraq by the deadline of March 31, 2008. It was a critical blow to the G.O.P. and the president, who did not concede defeat but instead promised the bill, if it passes the House, would have to face the merciless wall of "White House Vito."
Presidential advisor and former CEO of the Dallas Quik-Dry Cement Company Vito Pantusi has been working closely with Bush on a compromise that will make all involved parties happy, a White House inside source says, particularly the President Bush party.
"Mr. Pantusi plans on visiting House and Senate Democrats personally with some associates to convince them the...
otes along party lines heralded the passing of Congress' new military budget, which would allow $122 billion in funding with the stipulation that all troops be removed from Iraq by the deadline of March 31, 2008. It was a critical blow to the G.O.P. and the president, who did not concede defeat but instead promised the bill, if it passes the House, would have to face the merciless wall of "White House Vito." Presidential advisor and former CEO of the Dallas Quik-Dry Cement Company Vito Pantusi has been working closely with Bush on a compromise that will make all involved parties happy, a White House inside source says, particularly the President Bush party. "Mr. Pantusi plans on visiting House and Senate Democrats personally with some associates to convince them they've voted improperly," said our source. "His associates are sporting enthusiasts, as anyone can tell by their baseball bats, and Mr. Pantusi is sure he can teach certain Congressmen all about fair play." Acquitted on three different charges of influencing a congressional vote with a large tank of piranha fish, "White House Vito" has been an associate of the president since their days together in the Texas business community, and the president has brought in Pantusi as an advisor in hard negotiations in the past. In 2005, with an end-of-year deadline fast approaching, Pantusi assisted in advising the president in negotiating the Andean Free Trade agreement. "The White House would like to consider this matter resolved-like," Pantusi said in a follow-up news conference, cracking his knuckles audibly for the press in one of his rare public appearances. Other involved parties declined comment, and quickly shrunk from reporters who approached them too fast with microphones. Speculation has already begun as to what role Mr. Pantusi and his special "commission o' negotiatin' muscle" might play in opposition to the deadline bill. Representatives of the negotiating commission, including White House Vito standing ominously in the background, fielded a few quick questions from reporters on Friday. "In, uh, response to the question, ah, from the ravishing lady from The Washington Post with the killer rack," replied Pantusi associate Johnny Lips, "the president is, uh, looking for an amicable solution to the, er, Iraq budgetary disagreement. The president would, uh, prefer to leave the decisions on, um, monetary needs and appropriate troop presence to the, er, military personnel in charge of that there decision." Pantuis himself only responded to one question, when a reporter from CNN asked if the president had any doubts about pursuing a war the public increasingly opposes. To which White House Vito answered by throwing his cigar at the trembling reporter and shouting over the microphone, "You want me to come down there and show you some fucking opposition? You like that, tough guy? I should smack your fucking glasses off, numbnuts." If the White House chooses to pass the bill, the new budget requires Bush to start bringing troops home from Iraq and Afghanistan within 120 days. If negotiations go roughly with Vito Pantusi, 120 days is also the average length of hospital stay expected for congressmen who have enjoyed a difficult compromise with Bush's advisor. The Democratic majority in the Senate, however, warned that they would not be scared by White House intimidation. "It's the president's right to respond with Vito to any legislation he disagrees with," said Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, "but Congress is not without its own powers. If the president tries to force through his own Iraq budget through the Senate after rejecting ours, we're always willing to respond with Philly Buster." The Senator gestured to a husky Samoan page standing behind the speaking Democrats, scratching his goatee and nodding his head ominously. the commune news is glad we're not in politics, but we still have to face the scrutiny of "Line Item Vito," the guy at the supermarket who counts up our goods and tells us to get the fuck out of the express lane. Correspondent Ramrod Hurley is no stranger to cement shoes, although he finds concrete flip-flops more enjoyable for summer.
 |  Aides Urge Bush to Stop Referring to Iraqi Majority as "Shits" Boston husband challenges legality of no-sex marriages
Kyrgyz president found in Gilmore Girls chatroom
Fans hype X-Box 360 as better than whatever comes out next
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Bush’s MySpace Page Traffic Way Down Plans for Tallest Ferris Wheel Scrapped; Yao-Ming Too Busy to Turn It Entwistle Pleads Not Guilty of Murder, Last Several Who Albums Condi Rice Hates the Way She Smiles in Pictures |
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 August 18, 2003
You Look Like An Asshole: The History of Fads Vol. 1Welcome to part one of a very special commune promotional feature (what the powers that be at the commune don't know won't hurt them), a series of excerpts from my upcoming book "You Look Like An Asshole: The History of Fads." Unless the world ends in the next month, parts one and two will look at the greatest fad decade ever known to man: the 1950's.
The 1950's were a fertile decade for embarrassing fads, as the national IQ had reached a record low not seen since the days when our ancestors thought it would be fun to take the Indians out and get them drunk. America in the 1950's was still reeling from the fact that the country's best minds had burnt themselves out cracking Nazi code in WWII, so by the 50's they just spent their time inventing crap like the hula-hoop and the scooter. This is the only acceptable explanation for a generation of otherwise passable Homo sapiens running around with tap shoes on their feet all the time. Nobody is certain how that insanity got started, but it wasn't long before you weren't anybody if you didn't sound like a team of Clydesdales walking down the street. Eventually this trend had to be outlawed after basketball spectators started going deaf and there was one too many tragic fires started by workers in the nation's flint quarries.
When looking at Fads of the 50's, few can top the practice of piling a bunch of assholes into a phone booth for the present-day denial factor of all involved. This originally started...
º Last Column: Medicine for Dummies º more columns
Welcome to part one of a very special commune promotional feature (what the powers that be at the commune don't know won't hurt them), a series of excerpts from my upcoming book "You Look Like An Asshole: The History of Fads." Unless the world ends in the next month, parts one and two will look at the greatest fad decade ever known to man: the 1950's.
The 1950's were a fertile decade for embarrassing fads, as the national IQ had reached a record low not seen since the days when our ancestors thought it would be fun to take the Indians out and get them drunk. America in the 1950's was still reeling from the fact that the country's best minds had burnt themselves out cracking Nazi code in WWII, so by the 50's they just spent their time inventing crap like the hula-hoop and the scooter. This is the only acceptable explanation for a generation of otherwise passable Homo sapiens running around with tap shoes on their feet all the time. Nobody is certain how that insanity got started, but it wasn't long before you weren't anybody if you didn't sound like a team of Clydesdales walking down the street. Eventually this trend had to be outlawed after basketball spectators started going deaf and there was one too many tragic fires started by workers in the nation's flint quarries.
When looking at Fads of the 50's, few can top the practice of piling a bunch of assholes into a phone booth for the present-day denial factor of all involved. This originally started as a way for Universities to inexpensively house foreign exchange students, but before long the insecure white student populace decided that no foreign pinkos were going to show them how many peer-pressured nimrods you could squeeze into a phone booth. Like all fads, this soon grew out of hand and by 1958 it was impossible to find a phone booth anywhere that wasn't stuffed to the ceiling with dead college students.
Later, after the practice was outlawed, it was discovered that the record everyone was trying to beat (25 people stuffed into one telephone booth) was actually set by two guys who were so stoned that every time the phone rang they thought there was somebody else in the booth with them. Thankfully for the runaways and drug dealers with a legitimate need to use public telephones, this fad was soon replaced with one involving how many duck farts you could squeeze into a Volkswagen.
Another front-runner for stupidest fad ever was the Duck's Ass haircut. Invented by a barber in the 1940's as a joke on neighborhood kids he didn't like, the grease-mop style spread locally as all the other kids became insecure that their heads didn't look enough like the ass-end of a duck and demanded a quick remedy to their respectable appearance. This fluke probably would have ended with that gaggle of lead paint chip-eating imbeciles, but as fate would have it, dimwitted local rocker Roger Stagg of the Jersey Turnpikes inadvertently modeled the style while being beaten by the New York City police on the evening news one night in 1951, and within minutes of the broadcast the Duck's Ass had landed on heads all throughout the faux-tough world. Musicians and movie stars mistook the style for the look of the street, and after they adopted the haircut it trickled down and eventually became the actual look of the street, in some kind of bizarre chicken-eating-an-egg loop that it hurts the brain to comprehend.
However, this look soon faded away after a few dozen greasers bought the farm while blowing out the candles on their birthday cakes, and tales of these grisly grease-fire head infernos spread to suburbia. That part was left out of The Outsiders; but trust me, it was like Vietnam crossed with a Michael Jackson Pepsi commercial.
The 1950's also saw the birth of the panty raid, a masculine rite of passage for guys who would never, ever get laid. This unfortunate craze started when some wiseacre convinced the incoming class of freshman males at Tulane University that if they snuck into the girls' dorms and stole all their underwear, the girls would have no choice but to walk around naked all year and have promiscuous sex with anyone who asked politely. This being the 1950's, the guys bought it hook, line and sinker, and a shallow gene pool tradition was born. At first girls retaliated by staging their own boxer raids, but that turned out to be a lot of work and soon the girls discovered that sleeping only with jerks was the best revenge of all.
There were more ridiculous fads in the 1950's alone than there are deadbeat dads on the commune payroll, but this column is already longer than Leo Tolstoy's wedding vows so you'll have to stuff that curiosity back into the cat until next issue. Until then and possibly after, I'm Griswald Dreck. º Last Column: Medicine for Dummiesº more columns
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|  May 27, 2002
Volume 18Dear Reebok:
Do you have to make your shoes so bouncy all the time? I bought my son a pair of your shoes and it wasn't ten minutes after he put them on that he bounced right out the window. If it weren't for the safety nets I had recently installed outside all of our windows, I don't know what would have become of him. Are you proud of yourselves? Do you amuse yourselves with the mental images of small children bouncing out of windows while you're making your shoes? Perhaps some people like your bouncy shoes; I can't claim to speak for everyone. But that's certainly not my kind of shoe.
Sandra Livingstone Rington, Massachusetts
Dear Sandra:
Though we'd love to respond to your inanities with some sage advice, we're afraid your letter has become somehow misdirected. Please be kind enough to let us know if you ever decide to pull your head out of your ass, because we think the resultant sound might be loud enough to scare off our livestock and we'd appreciate some warning. Thanks.
the commune
Dear Vietnamese Cat Lovers Society:
I have to admit that your advice was fantastic. The best cat really is a fat, happy cat. Unfortunately, my cat and I will be unable to attend your annual dinner, being as I ate my cat last night. Quite a plump, sunny feline, and without a bitter aftertaste at all! Head and shoulders above any cat I've eaten in the...
º Last Column: Volume 17 º more columns
Dear Reebok: Do you have to make your shoes so bouncy all the time? I bought my son a pair of your shoes and it wasn't ten minutes after he put them on that he bounced right out the window. If it weren't for the safety nets I had recently installed outside all of our windows, I don't know what would have become of him. Are you proud of yourselves? Do you amuse yourselves with the mental images of small children bouncing out of windows while you're making your shoes? Perhaps some people like your bouncy shoes; I can't claim to speak for everyone. But that's certainly not my kind of shoe. Sandra Livingstone Rington, Massachusetts Dear Sandra:
Though we'd love to respond to your inanities with some sage advice, we're afraid your letter has become somehow misdirected. Please be kind enough to let us know if you ever decide to pull your head out of your ass, because we think the resultant sound might be loud enough to scare off our livestock and we'd appreciate some warning. Thanks.
the commune
Dear Vietnamese Cat Lovers Society: I have to admit that your advice was fantastic. The best cat really is a fat, happy cat. Unfortunately, my cat and I will be unable to attend your annual dinner, being as I ate my cat last night. Quite a plump, sunny feline, and without a bitter aftertaste at all! Head and shoulders above any cat I've eaten in the past. Or Pert Plus even, this was a delicious cat. I'd eat this cat again, and recommend it to friends. Even without tartar sauce. And for the sake of your informed members, let it be noted that it is very difficult to feed a cat evil. I bought my cat some of the most expensive evil they had in the Disney store and he just took one little bite, maybe even just a lick, then threw up on my shoes and went over to take a nap. Granted, he did that with Fancy Feast as well, but I may have been buying the Garlic Evil flavor, I'm not sure. I tried other methods of feeding him evil, including taping his eyelids open and buckling him into a child's car seat pointed at a television showing reruns of "Small Wonder," but somehow he managed to get out, throw up on my shoes, and then he went over and took a nap. I've heard that other cat owners have had more success with Flintstones Chewable Evil, but I have to admit I ate the whole bottle of those before I even got home from the store. They look like little candies! In closing, thank you for your show of concern over my cat's well being. I assure you that he was wonderful, if a bit spicy. I am impressed with your organization; perhaps I could be put on your mailing list? I'm always on the lookout for great new recipes. Ted "Fat & Happy" Wonder Burnage, NCDear Ted:
What, is our address scratched into a park bench or on a bathroom stall somewhere? Christ on a craps table.
the commune
Dear commune: Is it for real that Tony Robbins can make my dreams come true? Because if it is, I want a restraining order against that guy. I've been having this gnarly dream about waking up with salmon for hands and I'll be pissed if that really happens. Thanks. Mike Lundtree Provo, UTDear Mike:
Though we're very happy to see that we were the actual intended recipients of your letter, we can't help but wonder if we'd just be better off writing the letters and responses ourselves. Just a thought. As far as your question is concerned, Tony Robbins really will make your dream come true, but we're sorry to say it's the one about being violated by the '79 Chargers. Thanks for writing.
the commune Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible, rich, nor particularly good looking, but still enjoys a handjob from time to time. Is that too much to ask?º Last Column: Volume 17º more columns
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Quote of the Day“The stars at night are big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas! Except near Houston, Dallas or Fort Worth. Talk about your smog. Jesus, this song's gonna need another verse.”
-Clement B. DoogleFortune 500 CookieMama said there'd be days like this, but the bitch lied. The success or failure of this coming week hinges on your proper understanding of the word "gonad," so take our advice and go buy a dictionary now, Skippy. Order lots of Chinese food this week, but don't pick it up. This week's lucky accidents: back-flip off ladder onto hardwood floor, lip caught on drain while bathtub's full, wearing flammable jumpsuit to Great White concert, 15 car pile-up.
Try again later.Top Things Overheard at Your High School Reunion| 1. | "Oh My God—you haven't changed your clothes a bit!" | | 2. | "I haven't seen you since the date rape." | | 3. | "Man, were you right about Dishwalla. One-hit wonders." | | 4. | "Best friends 4-ever, my ass! Where were you at the trial, motherfucker?!?" | | 5. | "That guy used to be a real dick. Don't let that priest outfit fool you." | | 6. | "You still owe me four push-ups, wiseguy—don't think I've forgotten." | | 7. | "Want to dance with me, Charlie? Or is it Charlene now?" | | 8. | "The old gymnasium still smells like burned flesh—what memories!" | | 9. | "So tell me why we needed to learn proofs again?" | | 10. | "Mr. 'Most Likely to Succeed' came into Denny's last night for an application. Revenge, like our soup, is best served cold." | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 2/5/2007 Buenos Greetings, America! Roland McShyster here, back on the attack and off the crack! What better way to celebrate the months we’ve been apart than to round up the top flicks of the past year? 2006 was a busy year for movies, and though I know my esteemed colleague Orson Welch took a crack at the same last issue, it says here that this town’s big enough for the two of us, and I do think it is as long as Orson keeps his shoes on. So without further adieu, let’s make some magic!
1. The Deep Hearted
The first film in recent memory to function as both a remake (of Jackie Chan’s incendiary classic Nutbusted) and a sequel (to 1974’s dark-side of Elmer Fudd classic The Deer Hunter), The Deep Hearted finally gives screen icon Jack...
Buenos Greetings, America! Roland McShyster here, back on the attack and off the crack! What better way to celebrate the months we’ve been apart than to round up the top flicks of the past year? 2006 was a busy year for movies, and though I know my esteemed colleague Orson Welch took a crack at the same last issue, it says here that this town’s big enough for the two of us, and I do think it is as long as Orson keeps his shoes on. So without further adieu, let’s make some magic!
1. The Deep Hearted
The first film in recent memory to function as both a remake (of Jackie Chan’s incendiary classic Nutbusted) and a sequel (to 1974’s dark-side of Elmer Fudd classic The Deer Hunter), The Deep Hearted finally gives screen icon Jack Nickelson a role he can sink his teeth into. Too bad it didn’t come along before his real teeth had rotted away due to lechery and extreme old age, but golf-enthusiast Nickelson sinks his day-glo white dentures into this role just the same. Vanilla Ice is almost as good playing Marky Mark in the supporting role, and both Math Damon and Leonardio Dicaprica shine at playing the same character at random intervals throughout the film.
2/3. Fags of Our Fathers/Letters from Hero Jim
The only thing hotter in Hollywood right now than butch-looking tough guys being gay is dudes going to war a long time ago to kill foreigners, but it still took the jaundiced eye of silver-screen megalegend Clint Eastwood to put two and two together and make two movies that each combine both ideas. Fags of Our Fathers came first (that’s what she said!), and turned American hearts upside-out with its stunning portrayal of American GIs and the guys they bungholed while they were overseas during WWII. But great as that film was, it was just Clint’s way of softening the ground for Letters from Hero Jim, the right-hook to Fathers’ jap. Or is it jab? I don’t know boxing terminology. Letters tells the story of two gay guys in the army writing to each other, but the twist you haven’t seen before is that one of them is actually in the distant past and is Japanese. Now be sure to pick up the pieces of your blown mind before we move on to the next film.
4. Babe!
Darker than the first two, sure, and lighter on the pig, but that’s just fine with me when you’re talking about a movie many thought shouldn’t be made. After the star of the first two films died in a horrible breakfast- making accident two short years ago, the weak- stomached of the movie watching community rose up in one voice and suggested that the blockbuster film series be laid to rest in this little piggy’s honor. Thankfully, Hollywood told those fruits to take a hike, and completed the epic trilogy in style. Brad Pitt brings a fresh-faced enthusiasm to his role as Babe’s handler on the little pig’s trans-continental journey to find something tasty buried just beneath the ground. Without a doubt, some of the best pig acting since 1998’s Copland.
5. The Queen
Hot on the heels of his smash success with The Doors, counterculture icon Olivier Stone rips the rock biopic genre a new one with this scathing look at the life and times of the most macho band ever to exist, Queen. Brit bombshell Hellen Mirren burns the screen down with her thick-mustached portrayal of musky sex God and Queen frontman Freddie Mercury, and the rest of the band is played by guys who could snap your neck with their breath. If you had a better time in a theater in 2006, you were high on something wicked and I’m calling the cops.
6. Lidle Missed Sunshine
This amazingly-fast response to the tragic death of Yankees pitcher Corey Lidle, who died months ago after trying to land his single-engine Cessna through the window of his Manhattan apartment, doesn’t deserve to be as good as it turned out, but there it is just the same. It’s films like this that make me wonder what the hell they’re doing over there, outside of America, and why can’t they make films this good.
7/8. Volver/Lucky Number Slevin
Dyslexia was the hot word for 2006, not that anyone could spell it. But Hollywood doesn’t have to be able to spell something to be able to cash in on it, as these two films specially-titled for the letter-ordering impaired were to prove. Surprisingly, they were both powerhouses. Actually, technically one was a powerhouse and the other was a brick house, but I’ll leave you to decide for yourselves which was which.
9. Untied 93
Finally, the truth comes out about why Gerald Ford fell down those airplane steps that fateful morning back a long time ago. Turns out his shoelaces were untied. Yeah, it sounds kind of anti- climactic when I say it just like that, but trust me, this movie will keep you riveted for the full 93 minutes as you see Ford’s shit-eating unfold in painstaking detail. Yeah, you know what’s gonna happen, but that just makes the film’s inevitable conclusion feel all the more tragic.
10. Preachy Home Companion
Although it’s not the kind of movie I’d usually like, since it’s not very good, Preachy Home Companion won me over by having a bunch of good-looking people singing a lot while at the same time showing why ugly people belong on radio. Private Parts tried to teach me the same lesson years ago, but for some reason it didn’t really sink in until this film. But it did, and consider me a changed man, America.
Until next time, I’m Roland McShyster, and you’re America. Try to wear it well.   |