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Saddam Hussein's Dog Shot

August 4, 2003
Mosul, Iraq
Ansel Evans
U.S. soldiers take turns posing in front of the “blown to shit” doghouse
U
.S. soldiers sifted through the rubble of a doghouse on the outskirts of Mosul Saturday, celebrating the successful completion of a daring raid that ended with the death of Saddam Hussein’s infamous poodle, Ralphie. Early reports indicate the soldiers were tipped off by an opportunistic local merchant intent on collecting the $5 million reward offered by the U.S. government for information leading to the death or capture of the former dictator’s prime pooch.

“Now more than ever all Iraqis can know that the former regime is gone and will not be coming back,” President Bush said, modifying slightly a sales pitch from a commercial for Dodge trucks he’d heard that morning.

“A dog that had helped oppress the Iraqi people for years has been put down, and pu...Read more...


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September 2, 2002

Click for Biography

I Don't Even Know How to Bring Up the Subject of an Orgy

Anyone who knows me can tell you I get around. I'm out with a different girl every other night of the week, and I show them all a good time, if you know what I mean without me mentioning sex in the car behind the Rally's. My sister, one of those nutty feminists, has even called me a male whore, but I'm quick to remind her a male whore is called a gigolo, and anyway I don't get paid, just reimbursed for gas money.

Still, despite all the machismo spilling out all my holes, I got to admit I'm not as confident as I look all the time. I can ask girls out, I can ball their brains out if the car has enough room, and I can never call them again and not think twice about it. But I just don't know how to bring up the subject of group sex. I'm not that confident.

Me and my friends hang out a lot, we'll all bring whatever hotties we're seeing that week (or night) and just get together and drink and have fun. All my friends are good-looking dudes, by the way, and they never bring home less than an 8, although Gary brought three 4's one time and tried to pass them off as one 12. So with all these attractive people just sitting around, drunk as can be, you'd think the opportunity for an orgy would be quick to present itself. Wrong!

I don't know why. Everybody in the group is virile and all too ready for experimentation. Maybe all the other guys think I would be gay if I suggested group sex instead of girl swapping, but they should know better than...Read more...


º Last Column: I'm Not a Pessimist, I'm an Asshole
º more columns


September 16, 2002

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Tonight I Dine on Victory

You see, George? I told you the name of that movie was Deep Blue Sea, the one where the sharks eat the people. I should know, it's probably one of the best movies I've ever seen. Yet you doubted me. Well, tonight I dine on victory.

Lake Placid? How you could get a movie about a giant alligator in a small town confused with a movie about hyper-intelligent sharks eating all the people at a floating sea lab? No victory for you, George. You clearly don't keep good inventory on your mutated-creature-attacks-people movies. I, on the other hand, who do keep good inventory on my mutated-creature-attacks-people movies, will be eating big fat slabs of victory tonight, right off the bone.

Not that Lake Placid is a bad film, George—that's not my argument at all. Bill Pullman, Bridget Fonda, Oliver Platt, a great cast all around. But are you honestly telling me you mixed up Oliver Platt with Samuel L. Jackson? An incalculable error on your part, George, which is why I munch victory chips and you get crow. Enjoying your crow, George? I've had to eat crow far too many times to feel sorry for you. I've eaten enough crow for the population of India in my years. And they're practically starving, George, so you know they would eat a lot of crow. But tonight my soup is filled with chunks of victory.

What about the sheriff? There's not even a sheriff in Deep Blue Sea. Not that I'm not enjoying delicious victory-chip cookies...Read more...


º Last Column: I Don't Even Know How to Bring Up the Subject of an Orgy
º more columns






Milestones
1969: Rok Finger is deeply offended by the sights at Woodstock, which has little if anything to do with his favorite Peanuts character.
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View Past Columns
BY Zanzibar McNally
4/11/2005
My Love is Like an Orange
My Love is Like an Orange,
all shiny and orange
and filled with a citrus burst
to quench your lonely thirst.

My love is not like porridge
or storage
or forage

For my love is like an orange
and…

Bugger, nothing rhymes with orange.

Nevermind.

My Love is Like Silver
lightning-quick and quite valuable
but with great heat it is malleable
to the shape of your heart
or at least the romantic heart-shape as it commonly appears
since a real heart-shape would just look weird.

My love is not like a sliver
or pilfer
or Dilbert

For my love is like silver
and…

Fuck me twice!

My Love is Like a...Read more...

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