| Loves That Woman ';
$dunkin='2005/0905/';
$dunkintitle='The New Anne Frank Diary';
$edit='2003/1222/';
$fanmail='2005/0516/';
$fanmailtitle='Volume 63';
$finger='2005/0905/';
$fingertitle='I’m Fresh Out of Haitian Cigarettes';
$fortune='2002/020121/';
$goocher='2005/0711/';
$goochertitle='Gwar of the Worlds';
$hanes='2005/0704/';
$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';
$ned='2003/0818/';
$nedtitle='Cyantology';
$pickle='2002/020513/';
$pickletitle='State of the Art';
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$poliotitle='Omarelief';
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$renttitle='I’m Not that Big a Fan of Talking';
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$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/';
$tedtitle='The New War on Poverty';
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$vanslyketitle='Health Food is Full of Shit';
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$zendertitle='The Sixth commune Enthusiasts Club Meeting';
?> | 
 January 19, 2004 |
Des Moines, IA Whit Pistol Dozens of potential Iowa voters show up, excited to see a candidate not Bush, but still a little disappointed to find Sen. John Edwards (SC).
Though vagaries in the caucus system make polling unreliable, the most reliable polls show clearly the "Not Bush" candidate leading the way far ahead of the pack of current Democrats. Representatives of the Iowa caucus said they spent three days searching for the lead candidate before realizing it was not an actual person, merely a vote rejecting a supposed actual person.
Early poll results show the runner-up position still being a no-way battle between national frontrunner Howard Dean, Sen. Dick Ge...
n what most are calling an incredibly tight no-way race, as in "no way are any of these guys going to be president," all Democratic candidates are finding themselves beaten in Iowa Democratic Caucus polls by a write-in vote for the candidate known as only "Not Bush."
Though vagaries in the caucus system make polling unreliable, the most reliable polls show clearly the "Not Bush" candidate leading the way far ahead of the pack of current Democrats. Representatives of the Iowa caucus said they spent three days searching for the lead candidate before realizing it was not an actual person, merely a vote rejecting a supposed actual person.
Early poll results show the runner-up position still being a no-way battle between national frontrunner Howard Dean, Sen. Dick Gephardt, Sen. John Kerry, Sen. John Edwards, or possibly another person altogether. With all four candidates concentrating their attention on winning over undecided Iowa voters, Dean and Gephardt pulled their negative ads to focus on a more positive way to say the other candidates suck, while Kerry and Edwards both inched forward in the polls, oblivious to the fact there's no way either would ever be elected president. Running behind those four Democrats were Gen. Wesley Clark, Sen. Joe Lieberman, Sen. Carol Mosley Braun (who pulled out of the race earlier in the week), Sen. Bob Graham (who pulled out of the race months ago), a candidate known as "Not Sharpton," Al Gore (who isn't even running), Al Sharpton, and finally, Dennis Kucinich.
Iowa caucus expert Henry "Iowa" Jones felt the numbers would be representative of Iowa's opinion of the Democratic candidates, and expressed a national dissatisfaction with its political choices.
"The American people have fervently and decidedly said they do not want George Bush for their president, if these polls are any indication," said Jones. "However, we rolled out candidates that we here in Iowa would call, 'real dillies.' You can sort of see the American people collectively wincing and asking, 'Okay. Are these my only choices?'"
Jones further elaborated, when asked to fill column space. "It's quite a simple quandary. In layman's terms, the American people are hungry, but nothing we've suggested sounds good. They're not quite sure what they exactly want, but it's very likely not anything we've offered. Like saying, 'Seafood? Italian? Mexican?' And the American people are starting to think they'd rather just stay in and crack open a bag of chips, politically speaking."
However, though the news is good for no one, it's not bad for everyone. In particular, little-known independent presidential candidate Lyle Woodman stands to benefit greatly if the polls truly show how people will cast their votes in the national elections. At least, Woodman will benefit once he finishes the legal process of changing his name to "Not Bush" in October, 2004.
"I had a feeling 'Not Bush' would be a name with a lot of political weight back when I was watching the 2000 presidential election," said Woodman, tentatively referring to himself as Not. "In fact, if I remember correctly, Not Bush won in a very, very close race against the Republican candidate, Not Gore." the commune news is tired of handing out our reader's choice awards every year to our most popular columnist, None of the Above. Especially since we actually have a Hungarian Nunnuv Theobove, on staff as consultant. Raoul Dunkin is Not a Total Douchebag, at least that's the title we're reserving for him for this year's Opposite Day.
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Steve Fossett 7,368th man to fly around the world
9/11 Memory Honored with Destruction of Sears Tower
Ring tones changed again on personal Cruise cell phone
New iPad Screen Has One Pixel for Every Douchebag Waiting in Line Somewhere
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Officials to Celebrities: Please Get Out of New Orleans isaster-relief officials in New Orleans made a stern announcement today to the thousands of celebrities descending upon the devastated city in hopes of providing humanitarian aid in exchange for career-boosting photo ops: We’re serious; you really need to leave now. “We’ve got to get these fucking celebrities out of New Orleans,” sighed an exasperated Lt. Mark Bolio of the Army’s 92nd Airborne. “They’re drinking up all our bottled water and bitching about the catering all day.” The influx of famous faces has weighed as a heavy burden on officials who have spent the last week scrambling to get everyone out of the city-shaped deathtrap. Receding water levels have exposed a nightmare world of toxic contamination, with nearly the entire city soaking in deadly levels of E. coli bacteria, lead, crude oil, PCBs, asbestos, leptospirosis, battery acid, herbicides, raw sewage, DDT, snakes, and according to at least one local, cooties. After busting a nut trying to remove the bulk of New Orleans’ stubbornly entrenched locals, many of whom refused to leave their pets or belongings, the Army was not prepared to deal with the celebrity occupation. Wisconsin Man Takes in Jazz Band he whole nation wants to do their part to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina, but a Madison, Wisconsin man is doing so much he makes all the other volunteers and charity donors look like dried puke. For Albert Pohl Martinson hasn’t merely taken in three or four family members or refugees from New Orleans: He’s taken in a whole jazz band. “I just wanted to do what I could,” Martinson told a deluge of fawning media standing on his front lawn. “So I said I would take in the first group of refugees I could. I sent them bus tickets and had them carted up here immediately. And then, being a good citizen, I called the local news to make sure they were informed.” However, Martinson didn’t stop and giving the 5-man combo all the food, shelter, and clean water they needed; he also bought them sparkling fresh instruments so they could take their mind off their troubles. Bush Admonishes Tornado’s Cut and Run Policy |
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| 
 June 23, 2003
Volume 45Dear commune:
What’s the deal with my boyfriend? We’ve been together for three months now and he still hasn’t popped the question. I’ve been dropping hints left and right, but he just doesn’t seem to get it. I tore a page out of a wedding ring catalog, with my favorite ring circled, and slipped it into his bowhunting magazine, but he didn’t even notice. And whenever I say we should talk about our future, he says we should wait until all of the sinners have been harvested. I swear, between all his bowhunting and digging holes in the back yard, I’m not sure he’s even thinking about who we could get to cater the reception. Am I just missing the signs that he’s planning a fantastic romantic proposal, or do I need to give him an ultimatum?
Sincerely,
Confused in Connecticut
Dear Confused:
The only thing the commune loves more than a romantic ultimatum is a jailhouse wedding, so we say go for it! Most serial killers are afraid to commit, so be sure you catch him at the right time. Laying your cards on the table while he’s bathing in the blood of the vanquished or making a shish-ka-bob of eyeballs might just cause him to retreat into his emotional cave, or set him off on a tri-state killing spree, and then you won’t see him for weeks. Hit him up while he’s on a manic swing, maybe after he’s been reading about his exploits in the local paper. But act quick! Winning a man’s heart is all...
º Last Column: Volume 44
º more columns
Dear commune: What’s the deal with my boyfriend? We’ve been together for three months now and he still hasn’t popped the question. I’ve been dropping hints left and right, but he just doesn’t seem to get it. I tore a page out of a wedding ring catalog, with my favorite ring circled, and slipped it into his bowhunting magazine, but he didn’t even notice. And whenever I say we should talk about our future, he says we should wait until all of the sinners have been harvested. I swear, between all his bowhunting and digging holes in the back yard, I’m not sure he’s even thinking about who we could get to cater the reception. Am I just missing the signs that he’s planning a fantastic romantic proposal, or do I need to give him an ultimatum? Sincerely, Confused in ConnecticutDear Confused:
The only thing the commune loves more than a romantic ultimatum is a jailhouse wedding, so we say go for it! Most serial killers are afraid to commit, so be sure you catch him at the right time. Laying your cards on the table while he’s bathing in the blood of the vanquished or making a shish-ka-bob of eyeballs might just cause him to retreat into his emotional cave, or set him off on a tri-state killing spree, and then you won’t see him for weeks. Hit him up while he’s on a manic swing, maybe after he’s been reading about his exploits in the local paper. But act quick! Winning a man’s heart is all about timing, plus the FBI is combing your letter for fiber evidence as we speak.
the commune
Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for any lives we may have directly or indirectly ruined along the way. Staring in the rearview is no way to live your life, honey.º Last Column: Volume 44º more columns
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|  May 13, 2002
Toudle-Lou & Toudle-LeeToudle-Lou and Toudle-Lee sat in a tree and ate cranberries. That's the way they'd wile away a Thursday in the land of Margoline. Some are fonder of a wander through the woods, while peeling strands of string cheese. But not the Toudles, for them noodles were as stringy as they cared to be.
One day Morris, in his Taurus, drove to Margoline. He'd tied a blender to his fender for making blue Icees. And unlike monks, who love the chunks, Morris liked his smooth. He voted chunkless, like his uncles, who signed up at a State Fair booth.
So Lou and Lee sat in their tree, eating their berries cran. They talked to Roger, a salty codger, who lived in a bright yellow van. They'd been through hobbies, like sleeping in lobbies, and making underwear out of cats. They'd sat in a urinal while folding the Journal into intricate stock-market hats. But even lawn bowling and old bathtub trolling had left them feeling fizzless and flat. So up in that tree is where they will be if you come round looking for your cat.
Morris and me crashed our car in that tree one Thursday late in July. The Toudles fell down with a thunderous sound and the blender flew up in the sky. Roger the codger and a lodger named Hodger ran up to inspect the commotion. The scene was a mess as everything, I confess, was all covered in cranberry lotion.
But in spite of the gore and all the marshmallow spores that swirled round like a tornado in Texas, the Toudles, I thought,...
º Last Column: Jojo the Imp
º more columns
Toudle-Lou and Toudle-Lee sat in a tree and ate cranberries. That's the way they'd wile away a Thursday in the land of Margoline. Some are fonder of a wander through the woods, while peeling strands of string cheese. But not the Toudles, for them noodles were as stringy as they cared to be.
One day Morris, in his Taurus, drove to Margoline. He'd tied a blender to his fender for making blue Icees. And unlike monks, who love the chunks, Morris liked his smooth. He voted chunkless, like his uncles, who signed up at a State Fair booth.
So Lou and Lee sat in their tree, eating their berries cran. They talked to Roger, a salty codger, who lived in a bright yellow van. They'd been through hobbies, like sleeping in lobbies, and making underwear out of cats. They'd sat in a urinal while folding the Journal into intricate stock-market hats. But even lawn bowling and old bathtub trolling had left them feeling fizzless and flat. So up in that tree is where they will be if you come round looking for your cat.
Morris and me crashed our car in that tree one Thursday late in July. The Toudles fell down with a thunderous sound and the blender flew up in the sky. Roger the codger and a lodger named Hodger ran up to inspect the commotion. The scene was a mess as everything, I confess, was all covered in cranberry lotion.
But in spite of the gore and all the marshmallow spores that swirled round like a tornado in Texas, the Toudles, I thought, were more excited than not since they though that the car was a Lexus. They drove it away, and when Morris yelled "Hey!" we just heard the horn beep "ta-ta" as they headed toward Rio. Morris thought I was wrong, he said "They're beeping along to Da Da Da by that German band Trio."
So the Toudles survived and are well and alive though now Lou has blenders on the brain. Lee accidentally ate a bird and the last that I heard the Toudles were laughing at mules out in Spain. That's the rumor today, though the word, as they say, can get twisted round as it carries. And now Morris and me sit here in their old tree and wonder where they found the berries. º Last Column: Jojo the Impº more columns
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Quote of the Day“Seek not greatness, but seek truth and you will find both. If, however, you find a bag that looks like oregano, it's mine. I mean, if the cops ask you, it's not mine, but I am totally holding it for a friend of mine.”
-Ron HorsemannFortune 500 CookieAnother day, another dollar—you should really quit the migrant worker biz for a job where you can make more than a buck a day. Fans of sweaty three-ways with lesbians rejoice, they'll have your video in stock this Thursday. I've been smelling beans all day. That can't be just me. Lucky Lucianos will be Angelo, Salvatore, Emilio, and Gary.
Try again later.Least Successful David Bowie Incarnations| 1. | Wacky Far-Out Space Nut | | 2. | Lithe, Quirky, Effeminate Heterosexual | | 3. | Gold-Suited Game Show Host Mutt Smalley | | 4. | Evil Twin Brother Donald Bowie | | 5. | Lou Bega | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 5/17/2004 Hello readers, and welcome to the greatest Entertainment Police ever. Sure, we can't say for certain that this truly will be the best the column's ever been, especially since I just started writing it, but we can hope, can't we? After all, it's a new season and the smell of spring movies is in the air like somebody farted. So let's hope for the best as we peek through the keyhole this week, to see what Hollywood's been doing in there that's been making so much noise and making the house smell kind of like bacon. To the movies!
In Theaters Now:
13 Going on 30
I don't know who the hell was clamoring for a Michael Jackson movie this month, but the sick bastard got what he deserved with this piece of shit. If...
Hello readers, and welcome to the greatest Entertainment Police ever. Sure, we can't say for certain that this truly will be the best the column's ever been, especially since I just started writing it, but we can hope, can't we? After all, it's a new season and the smell of spring movies is in the air like somebody farted. So let's hope for the best as we peek through the keyhole this week, to see what Hollywood's been doing in there that's been making so much noise and making the house smell kind of like bacon. To the movies!
In Theaters Now:
13 Going on 30
I don't know who the hell was clamoring for a Michael Jackson movie this month, but the sick bastard got what he deserved with this piece of shit. If turds could fly, this thing would be a 747. Though the vanity of not calling the movie 9 going on 50 is pretty appalling, that's nothing compared to the film's creepy vision of Jackson sprinkling magic powder on his birthday cake and waking up as a 13-year-old boy. Normally this kind of scenario would be good for some fish-out-of-water comedy, but in this case the results make a lot more sense than Jackson's real everyday life. Because of that, the film is little more than one man's boring-to-watch wish fulfillment, though there is one funny part near the end where Jackson realizes he undershot his mark a little and is still too old for sleepovers, but won't be tall enough to reach the magic-powder shelf for another five or six years. Still though, creepy.
Man on Fire
It's a rare actor who can believably pull of playing both Malcolm X and Richard Pryor (not in the same movie, though that would be kind of cool), but Denzel Washington wins that honor either by virtue of his talent or the fact that he's the only marketable black actor around for a dramatic leading role. Some might question the tasteless title of this Pryor biopic, or the slow-motion trailers that show the comedian running around with his shit all on fire, but few can argue that a film about Pryor wasn't overdue, and this one qualifies since it's got a character in it named Richard Pryor who is sort of vaguely like the real thing. My history may not be rock-solid here, but I'm pretty sure Richard Pryor didn't know karate in real life, if he did I'm nearly certain he would have used it in the movies more, because nothing sells like a funny black man who can kick some ass. Hollywood attempted many times to teach Eddie Murphy Ken-Po for this very purpose, but that went about as well as their attempts to teach Wesley Snipes to do impressions. Regardless of how much ass the real-life Pryor could kick, the Denzelified version boots much of it in Man on Fire, which covers up well for the fact that the filmmakers didn't bother to learn anything about Pryor before making the film. Though in truth the facts might have just got in the way of their desire to make a movie about a troubled CIA comedian who's followed around all the time by a creepy little white girl who sees dead people.
National Lampoon's Van Helsing
Have you ever wondered what you'd get if you crossed Dracula, Dead and Loving It, every monster movie ever, X-Men, Underworld, The Three Stooges and the Monsters of Rock pinball machine? You really have? Weird. I don't know what the chances of that are, but I'd imagine they'd have to be up there with the corpse of Adolph Hitler winning the Miss America swimsuit competition. You either wrote this movie or are totally out of your fucking mind. Anyway, somebody wondered, and then they made National Lampoon's Van Helsing in a desperate attempt to exorcize their demons and get some sleep at night. The results, I have to admit, are pretty fun, in an "I left my brain in my other pants" kind of way. Canadian wrestling legend and Teen Wolf, Too star Huge Ackman suits up as the title character, Venice Beach washout Van "Big Hat" Helsing, who is randomly pressed into service protecting the world from 100 years of movie villains using only open hand slaps, eye pokes, and that thing where you wiggle your hand in front of the guy's eyes up and down and then hit him with a wrench when he's mesmerized. In this role, Ackman proves he's got the range not only to act like he's got really funny hair, but to make you believe he's wearing a big, goofy hat as well.
New York Minute
Wow, an Olsen twins movie based on that crappy Don Henley song? Where do I stick the gun?
Well damn, America, looks like that's it. Looks like we've got so caught up in the viewing and reviewing that another column's passed us by. Don't let the same happen to you, America, be sure to take the time to stop and smell the roses, count the commas, whatever the hell you do when you're appreciating life and reading a movie review at the same time. Ciao.   |
