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 October 10, 2005 |
Washington D.C. Junior Bacon Presidentish Bush delivers what many consider to be his most heartfelt speech to date
"Every rose has its thorn," Bush explained, addressing questions about the higher-than-expected casualty rate for U.S. soldiers stationed in Iraq. "Just like every night has its dawn. Just like every cowboy… uhm. Hmm. Yep," Bush nodded to himself in closure on that thought.
"How do we explain something that took us by surprise?" Bush continued after a thoughtful pause, addressing his administration's planning for the post-war rebuilding of Iraq. "Prom...
resident Bush's Thursday morning speech to the National Endowment for Democracy was greeted by supporters and detractors alike as an important milestone, outlining more clearly both the president's thought processes and his positions on topics ranging from global terrorism to the increasingly chaotic situation in Iraq. "Every rose has its thorn," Bush explained, addressing questions about the higher-than-expected casualty rate for U.S. soldiers stationed in Iraq. "Just like every night has its dawn. Just like every cowboy… uhm. Hmm. Yep," Bush nodded to himself in closure on that thought. "How do we explain something that took us by surprise?" Bush continued after a thoughtful pause, addressing his administration's planning for the post-war rebuilding of Iraq. "Promises in vain, what is real but in disguise. What happens now? Do we break another rule? Let the others play the fool? I don't know how to stop feeling this way…" "Hold on to the nights," Bush continued, finding his voice in the words of popular poet Richard Marx before trailing off in dramatic fashion. "Hold on to the memories. Wish that I could give you more, that I could be your…" Bush's comments were met by a stunned silence from the audience, except for one asshole who was waving a lighter. Coming under increasing pressure in recent months to justify the loss of life in Iraq, Bush also indulged the audience with his deepest philosophical thoughts on the subject of war and sacrifice. "We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong," explained Bush. "Lo... Iraq is a battlefield." "Shooting at the walls of heartache, bang, bang. I am the warrior," Bush cocked his fingers in a pistol gesture to drive his point home. "And heart to heart we'll win, if we survive," Bush assured onlisteners, possibly referring to the administration's campaign to win hearts and minds in the Middle East. "Just a little more time is all we're asking for," Bush continued, amid questions of how long U.S. troops will remain in Iraq. "Cause just a little more time could open closing doors. Just a little uncertainty can bring you down. So if you're lost and on your own, you can never surrender. And if your path won't lead you home, you can never surrender." "Never surrender!" repeated an excited Bush, striking something of a pose. Addressing the recent flooding disasters in Louisiana, Bush dug deep again and offered words of consolation to the survivors, returning this week to their destroyed homes and ruined shit. "Don't be afraid to lose what was never meant to be," consoled a paternal Bush. "After the rain washes away the tears, and all the pain, only after the rain can you live again. I know the emptiness you feel inside, you're thinking if you break away, you'll never survive. I'm waiting as my heart beats just for you. Come on and take my hand and I'll pull you through. But things will never change until you want them to." "It cuts like a knife," Bush said in closing, when some wiseacre in the back row yelled a question about global terrorism. "Ooh, but it feels so right." Just when you thought the chance had passed, the commune news went and saved the best for last: this. Lil Duncan is the commune's Washington correspondent, and claims she will retain that title indefinitely, regardless of whether or not Denzel ever writes back.
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Microsoft promises to eradicate spam and free thought by 2006
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Lazy girl charged in father's assisted suicide didn't assist much at all
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You’ve Got Mail, Iran’s Got Nukes Da Vinci Code Author Found Guilty of Inspiring National Treasure New .eu Domains Popular Among Gross-Out, Childbirth Video Websites Sharon Still in Coma, Phyllis Still Total Slutbag |
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 August 22, 2005
Lost LeavingsAnyone who knows me should know I'm not political. Or at least I never thought I was. Which only means I never knew myself. Huh. How does something like that get by me? But it don't matter. I'm taking a stand, for once in my life. And it probably will be once. It's hard to take a stand for or against something. I keep forgetting I took a stand, and then I can't remember which side I'm on.
So I might as well tell you before I forget: I'm taking a stance against body grooming. Not all of it, mind you. I'm not some big slob or nothing. I'm still going to take my bath every couple of weeks, and I might even use soap. But no more of this bullshit about hair cutting and shaving and clipping nails and so on. It's all just a lot of crap made up by big business to sell us things we don't need, like electric razors and razors for the Amish and such.
Think about it: What would be the worst thing that would happen if you stopped cutting your fingernails today? Sure, a lot of fatcats who own nail clipper corporations would be out of luck. But you, with the long fingernails and toenails? If you get thrown out of a helicopter or airplane, you can just grab the side of a mountain or building on your way down. Save yourself from certain doom. That means we've been cutting our own throats by cutting our nails. And I'm done with all of it.
I'm done with haircuts, too. Done with lining some bigwig wig magnate's pockets with my hard-borrowed money by...
º Last Column: That's Nostaligia
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Anyone who knows me should know I'm not political. Or at least I never thought I was. Which only means I never knew myself. Huh. How does something like that get by me? But it don't matter. I'm taking a stand, for once in my life. And it probably will be once. It's hard to take a stand for or against something. I keep forgetting I took a stand, and then I can't remember which side I'm on.
So I might as well tell you before I forget: I'm taking a stance against body grooming. Not all of it, mind you. I'm not some big slob or nothing. I'm still going to take my bath every couple of weeks, and I might even use soap. But no more of this bullshit about hair cutting and shaving and clipping nails and so on. It's all just a lot of crap made up by big business to sell us things we don't need, like electric razors and razors for the Amish and such.
Think about it: What would be the worst thing that would happen if you stopped cutting your fingernails today? Sure, a lot of fatcats who own nail clipper corporations would be out of luck. But you, with the long fingernails and toenails? If you get thrown out of a helicopter or airplane, you can just grab the side of a mountain or building on your way down. Save yourself from certain doom. That means we've been cutting our own throats by cutting our nails. And I'm done with all of it.
I'm done with haircuts, too. Done with lining some bigwig wig magnate's pockets with my hard-borrowed money by cutting off my hair and letting him come in after I've left to make some wig out of it. I recognize my hair, once in a while, when I see some bald guy wearing it on the street. Nobody else's hair curls just the way mine does. I'm losing all this hair out of ignorance and some greaseball with a dustpan and wig business is getting rich off my leavings. It's over, rich guys.
I'll just grow my hair out forever and ever. Grow it long, grow it high, grow it down to my ass, and then if it falls out from terror when it reaches that length, bury it proper and then grow it out again. I'm lucky to have hair. Even this hair. Some day I might be some old guy with huge bald patches and I'll remember all the huge patches of hair I left on a barber's floor in my youthful indiscretion. But that guy's not going to be me anymore. I'm keeping all of it, never cutting it again. And if any does fall out for any other reason, I'm going to develop an elaborate filing system to keep track of it all.
And I'm not going to cut or shave my crotch hair either. It probably goes without saying, but it always pisses off my mom when I talk about my crotch in my columns.
Face shaving is out, too. I've already got me the world's most beautiful moustache (despite what those elitists at Moustache Quarterly say) and I'm going to grow the world's coolest beard to be its buddy. They'll hang out together constantly, on my face, and go with me on fishing trips and to ball games. The best of friends until they grow old and gray together. I'll have a big thick beard and moustache, like that one famous religious guy—Manson.
The jury's still out on what to do with my urine and stools. But I've got plenty of jars, so there's lots of time before I have to come to a final decision on all that. º Last Column: That's Nostaligiaº more columns
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|  March 17, 2003
Volume 38Hello commune:
I really admire Mr. Robert Wadlow. He was of incredible height. He was huge but looked very friendly. I am only 5'5" and believe me, I am really disappointed with myself. If only I could grow a little bit taller. Mr Wadlow was so blessed about his size. He is the tallest man in the world! I feel hurt that he died. I wish he were alive. Besides, no one can dare challenge him.
How incredible, fantastic and amazing the height of that man - Robert Wadlow.
I'm very lucky to be in excellent shape. And I can't play basketball because my foot can hurt easily. Lot of happiness to all of you.
Imran
Nairobi, Kenya
Dear Imran:
According to our sources Mr. Wadlow died in 1940, but we understand that in your grief you may not have been able to write to us right away. Come to think of it, you may have been waiting for the commune to come into existence before you wrote to us, a move we here at the commune applaud. However, you're still about four years late, and we're afraid that the statute of limitations for your question has subsequently expired. Wait, you didn't ask any questions, did you? Thanks for wasting our time, fucknuts.
the...
º Last Column: Volume 37
º more columns
Hello commune: I really admire Mr. Robert Wadlow. He was of incredible height. He was huge but looked very friendly. I am only 5'5" and believe me, I am really disappointed with myself. If only I could grow a little bit taller. Mr Wadlow was so blessed about his size. He is the tallest man in the world! I feel hurt that he died. I wish he were alive. Besides, no one can dare challenge him. How incredible, fantastic and amazing the height of that man - Robert Wadlow. I'm very lucky to be in excellent shape. And I can't play basketball because my foot can hurt easily. Lot of happiness to all of you. Imran
Nairobi, KenyaDear Imran:
According to our sources Mr. Wadlow died in 1940, but we understand that in your grief you may not have been able to write to us right away. Come to think of it, you may have been waiting for the commune to come into existence before you wrote to us, a move we here at the commune applaud. However, you're still about four years late, and we're afraid that the statute of limitations for your question has subsequently expired. Wait, you didn't ask any questions, did you? Thanks for wasting our time, fucknuts.
the commune
Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for any injuries that may result from our annual Hunt for the World's Tallest Man contest. If you don't know how to safely tranquillize and taxiderm an eight-foot-tall human being, you shouldn't be participating.º Last Column: Volume 37º more columns
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Milestones1988: Red Bagel's screenplay based on the cover up of the Challenger disaster is rejected for production and accused of being plagiarized from Tootsie.Now HiringRib Sandwich. Tasty barbecue rib sandwich, no experience required, must be available noon today. If position works out, could invite you back every week and some weekends. Please contact Ned Nedmiller at the commune.Top Rejected Cars| 1. | Honda Pfffttpp | | 2. | Chevy Crack Ho | | 3. | Chrysler on the Cross | | 4. | Ford Theater | | 5. | He Ain't Chevy He's My Brother | |
|   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.   |
