You need a newer browser.

2/28/26   
For the love of God, read something already
homecommune Staff Biographiescommune news20,000 Seats Beneath the League with Stan AbernathieOr So You Thought with Red BagelBook RevoltBoris is Gay with Boris UtzovMy Friend Polio with Omar BricksMy Dearest Deidrebane with Carlisle P. ChesterfeldChild Star with Clarissa ColemanThe Best of Joel DickmanNo Shit? with Griswald DreckOne Sane Man with Raoul DunkinEditorial CartoonsFanmail from Some Flounders: Letters to the EditorGiving You the Finger with Rok FingerThe Hanes Identity with Mickey HanesSampson L. Hartwig RemembersShort ‘N’ Sweet with Stan HooperPoop of the Century with Ramrod HurleyAmerican Jesus with Mitch KroegerYou Can’t Win with Alamo CruiseFortune 500 Cookies with Mazie the ChickenManifestos of FunMe Chinese with Ned NedmillerSittin’ Around the Pickle Barrel with Shorty and JeterPoetry CoronerEntertainment Police: Movie and Television ReviewsThis Space for Rent: Guest ColumnistsGlass Ceiling Fan with Thelma ReynoldsClarise Sickhead’s Bedtime StoriesGoddammit! with Ted TedReflections of a Goocher with Stu UmbrageThe World Vs. Homer Vanslykecommune Club with Emil Zender

Taking the Fifth Sweeps the Criminal Nation

February 18, 2002
Salt LakeCity,
Lochsen Bagel
Non-talking alleged criminal about to get a royal talking-to.
C
riminals are usually the last ones to be on the front of a trend-setting movement, being sheltered away in their underworld subculture or prison. But the hippest of hip are entirely accused criminals, and most have latched on to a new fad—invoking the Fifth Amendment.

Popularized by the wave of Enron and Arthur Andersen officials taking the Fifth in front of the current Congressional probe, "Fifthing"—as those in the know are calling it now—has become the fashionable way to respond to charges. Fifthing has long been the preferred manner of defense for white collar suspects and political figures undergoing questioning, but lately it's extending far beyond.

"Nearly 30 of our suspects in questioning have taken the Fifth Amendment this week," said New York Cit...Read more...


FDA completely bogarting entire Paxil stash

Fox already canceling next year's new shows

Erectile dysfunction O.K., happens to everybody

Entwistle Pleads Not Guilty of Murder, Last Several Who Albums



January 10, 2005

Click for Biography

Burn, Blaming, Burn

T'was the night before Christmas, and all through Bricks Manor, not a creature was sleeping, because my neighbor's house was all the fuck on fire. I shit you not, communauts, this was one bizarre-smelling Christmas. I barely saved the fireworks I keep buried in my lawn, and Foghat took a big black Christmas shit after gorging himself on some kind of half-melted attic insulation. This Christmas wasn't lacking Santa, just sanity.

As the most plausible recorded version of that night's events goes, Omar Bricks had just settled down for a long winter's nap with his trusty basset hound Foghat at the foot of the bed, watching for gremlins, when from out by the lawn there arose such a clatter, I jumped up and screamed "What the fuck??" like a pissed-off ninja. Away to the window I flew like The Flash, not as fast but just as naked. Or was that The Streak? One of those guys. And anyway, yeah, the new house they'd just finished building on Dale's old lot was way the hell on fire.

For a second, brave thoughts of dashing in heroically and getting all my shit out of there whizzed through my brain, like a half-remembered action movie. Then I realized the flames were like forty feet high and that camping gear was borrowed anyway. Sure, I'd left some boxes of crackers and shit in there too, but they were probably all brown on one side due to the raging inferno that was lighting up the neighborhood like the Griswalds' Christmas decorations. And in all likelihood,...Read more...


º Last Column: The Giving House
º more columns


June 13, 2005

Click for Biography

The Return of Deep Omar

The jig is up, jig-lovers. After years of speculation, snooping, allegations, bribes, misinformation and games of inter-office dirty pool, it's time to let the cat out of the bag: I am the shadowy commune informant known as "Deep Omar."

True, this is hardly news to regular readers of my column, since I've been dropping hints to this fact for years, and even took the bagged cat out for a stroll a few years ago in my 2002 column "Deep Omar is the Chess Messiah". But as everyone knows, printing something in the commune is hardly the way to get the word out about anything, even to the commune staff themselves, and even when they're all eagerly snooping in hopes of cashing in on Red Bagel's $10,000 bounty for information about Deep Omar's identity.

But now I think it's time to get the word out to the world and let the healing begin. So in addition to writing this column, I've also added an "I'm Deep Omar, Bitch!" tag line to the end of my answering machine message. That alone has four times the word-spreading power of writing something in the commune, so I figure the word is as good as out there.

Because this world, and especially this office, has existed too long in the shadow of lies and deception. I'm tired of Ramrod Hurley claiming to be the leaker in a desperate grab for in-office street cred. And I'm bored of watching Ivan Nacutchacokov take a lie-detector test every...Read more...


º Last Column: The Sad Fate of the World's Greatest Invention
º more columns






Quote of the Day
“Sometimes when we touch the honesty's too much. Okay, you want the truth? It's not the honesty. It's that really rough patch of skin you have. Have you ever been to a doctor for shingles?”

-Hildy Daniels
Fortune 500 Cookie
This Bud's for you; at least, that's what I'm telling the cops if they pull us over. You'll be horrified to learn that woman you've been ogling in that "Physical" video for years is mom. White man finally break treaty again, just like you been expecting all these years. Take the Rockford Files theme off your answering machine already, the joke was old in 1994.


Try again later.
Least-Popular Halloween Handouts
1.Jesus Tarts
2.Sock full of pennies
3.Shnuckers; like Snickers, but filled with delicious Shmucker's jam
4.Asked to open bag, close eyes; smart-ass farts into sack
5.Everlasting Never-Ending Irradiated Gobstopper
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 Roland McShyster
10/14/2002
Come quick, America, you've got to see this. Okay, well, maybe not, but the quicker we get to the movie reviews the quicker Roland McShyster can get back to the high-powered binoculars he picked up for a dollar at a yard sale. These things are great, who knew there was so much going on outside? If you don't already have a pair, I'd highly recommend them. Actually, they're probably pretty expensive, but if you ever find a freshly divorced woman selling all of her ex's stuff for a dollar at a yard sale then I say go for it. I also picked up this incredible sword… I mean, what am I going to do with a sword, right? But at the same time, a sword for a dollar? Don't tell me you'd pass that up. Plus, it looks pretty sharp on the wall and cuts french bread like you wouldn't believe. Read more...

the commune publishes as the news happens.
Enjoy these random selections from days gone by, and refresh for more.