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California Loses! Schwarzenegger Aryan-Elect; Davis Out on His AssOctober 13, 2003
Los Angeles, CA
Unknown
Either Schwarzenegger arrives from belated victory party with wife Maria Shriver, or some sort of clip from a movie.
T
he Tuesday polls have closed, the ballots are still being counted, but estimates make the outcome clear: California has lost the recall election.

California voters turned out in record, ignorant numbers Oct. 7 to make their confused voices heard, and the answer was a resounding, "What's this all about again?" As voters chose to recall Gov. Gray Davis, elected only 11 months earlier, and replace him with female-violating, Hitler-loving pure beef slab Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Not that a truly inept politician can't ruin an entire political system in less than a year. The current president only needed 9 months before the world as we knew it fell into a shitcan. And Gray Davis, described by friends as "a necessary evil," probably deserved a good pink-slipping. But to ...Read more...


Steve Jobs' Coffin Has No Handles, Requires Special Proprietary Gravesite

Merck: "Crazy-Ass Brazil Giving AIDS Drugs to People With No Money"

Michael Powell leaving FCC; sick of hearing word "titties" on daily basis

Big Ratings Prompts ABC to Seek More Dancing Handicapped Shows



November 26, 2001

Click for Biography

Volume 8

Dear commune:

Ed Phillips here again. I was in the midst of another college prank, trying to see how many people I could squeeze in my Yugo when the cops came down on me hard, those punks. As usual, they didn't understand and were very forceful in arresting me, although I told them, to be fair, I didn't kill any of them myself.

With all the terrorism and crap happening lately, I can sort of understand why the overreaction. So many Americans are willing to relinquish a little bit of freedom to make themselves feel safer. I, however, am not. How do we strike a balance? Do I have to write a signed letter with a notary public signature or something to verify that I am willing to sacrifice any security at all in order to retain all my freedoms? If that's the case, I would also like to sacrifice the current security I have in order to gain new freedoms other Americans do not enjoy.

If it sounds good to you, I'd prefer to be shot at maybe once or twice a day in order to enjoy legalized marijuana. If I could have sex with underage teenage girls without repercussions you could go ahead and give like three or four of them some serious disease or a huge boyfriend, that would give me pretty good odds, I think. I'm also looking for a way to commit a murder here or there, but I'm not sure what I can sacrifice, maybe you could serve me some bad undercooked pork or something real dangerous.

I have to go as I just made bail, God bless mom and that...Read more...


º Last Column: Volume 7
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October 28, 2002

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Ode to the Debunker

Tonight the city is packed like a cheap suitcase, my friends. It is brimming over with miserable, sweaty recluses, who sit naked in their stench-ridden plaster of Paris hovels like the penthouses of the damned. They spend their unfortunate lives brewing up Byzantine conspiracy theories like pots of runny black coffee, in an ass-clenching attempt to pass those painful small hours of the night's midsection, hours that cling and drag like a moss-covered gallstone. And not just tonight, no. Last night, as well. Most likely last Tuesday. Maybe other nights, it's hard to say.

True enough, there are still some intrepid dreamers who sniff glue or make Popsicle stick models of Eartha Kitt's gigantic ass when the boredom horn comes calling, cutting a crimson swath through their sleepwalking nightmare lives. But countless others have no hobbies at all, and instead attempt to break boredom's dark stranglehold by dreaming up improbable conspiracies galore, spiraling out into infinity with their paranoid cake-baking.

But the twisting corridors of this sickly web don't end there, good friend. This lonely waltz demands several more dancers to move their hips in and out when the suggestion is made, like freak-dancing mulatto robots. This latter-day ecosystem of conspiracy is made complete only by the existence of the noble dubunker, the conspiracy theorist's natural predator! Without debunkers, the conspiracy theorist population would grow wildly out of control,...Read more...


º Last Column: Nobody Mentions the Nerd Problem
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Milestones
1962: Modesto-area commune publishes first newsletter on hand-recycled paper with pressed soybean inks, detailing member birthdays and a potluck sign-up. commune lawyers from the year 2015 sue retroactively for eventual copyright infringement, winning custody of 74 cots and a large clay poop trough.
Now Hiring
Shaman. Duties to include spells, incantations, curing minor STDs, opening bridge to the dreamtime, relieving crushing boredom of modern life, answering general tax questions and serving as an occasional drug connection. Knoweldge of dentistry a plus.
Top Worst Opening Lines to Novels
1.It was the best of times, no question about it.
2.Call me Crenshaw, Ishmael's brother.
3.I had been up for three days doing coke, paranoid they were going to catch me after I sunk the company with my idiotic business practices; then, my fa
4.I have only eaten three people in my life—this is that story.
5.So I said to my friend Charlie, "Hey, I'm going to write a novel where nothing at all happens," so welcome to it.
Last IssueLast Issue’s Lead News Story

North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY Pat Cheeks
5/2/2005
The King’s Lookalike
It was upon looking into the mirror the King noticed the most startling thing about him and his economically-deprived guest, Tim O’Pisspotless.

"’Tis most astonishing," exclaimed the queer King, "but you and myself, would not that I knew I were me, I would’st be mistaken on which is whom."

"…the fuck?" asked Tim, then doffed his cap and clutched it to his chest in respect. "What I mean, m’liege, is that I got no idea what the fuck ’tis you’re saying. But I would guess we look just alike, judging by the two fruitcakes staring back at us from the shiny-glass."

"’Tis precisely what I mean!" burst the King, too happy for anybody’s good. He started to undress. "I bid you, remove your encroachments, my good man!"

Tim...Read more...

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