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Bush Declares Environment Part of 'Axis of Evil'November 25, 2002 |
Washington, DC Whit Pistol Environment-siding traitors, either wearing masks or genetically misbread to look like Bush, make a lot of hooplah to support terrorism.
"It's like some villain out of that new James Bond movie, which opens tomorrow," said Bush at a meeting with oil lobbyists and business friends Thursday. "The environment is threatening the safety of America and our way of life by taking from us what is ours. The reason oil and gas is so expensive—doesn't that just make ya mean mad?—is all because th...
n his brashest act against ecological ideologies yet, President Bush declared the environment to be part of the "axis of evil" that includes Iraq, Iran, and North Korea. The environment, said Bush, in a speech written for him by a college buddy he hired, has conspired to deprive America of its much-needed fossil fuels and energy with blatant threats to "cut off" the availability of these fuels and deprive the world of oxygen.
"It's like some villain out of that new James Bond movie, which opens tomorrow," said Bush at a meeting with oil lobbyists and business friends Thursday. "The environment is threatening the safety of America and our way of life by taking from us what is ours. The reason oil and gas is so expensive—doesn't that just make ya mean mad?—is all because the environment has decided to hold out for better treatment and reduced emissions and stuff. I say we stand up and tell them where we stand!"
Afterwards, in response to reporters' questions if he was out of his mind, Bush stated: "I am in full possession of all my facilities, and I want to keep it that way. We must act now to crush the evil regime of the environment. All these threats to America, from earthquakes to hurricanes, it's all the environment's fault. I will not allow this assault on Homeland Security TM to continue by 'Mother Nature' and her axis of evil buddies."
The White House has stated its opposition to the 1997 Kyoto Protocol, signed by environment-friendly former president Bill Clinton. The Kyoto Protocol is an international treaty in which the United States pledged, with other countries, to reduce dangerous greenhouse gas emissions by seven percent in an effort to help the environment. Bush's assertion is that the Kyoto Protocol will be a threat to the recovery of the economy, which thrives much better when businesses run rampant and unchecked, left to police themselves in areas of deadly emissions. Bush elaborated Thursday that to obey the Kyoto Protocol is to play right into nature's diabolical plan to extort America.
"It is high time," said Bush, then pausing to laugh as he realized he said "high," "that America stop coddling terrorists like the environment. They're our emissions and we can make them if we want. And it's high time Mother Nature stopped holding back on the fossil fuels—we all know you got more. You know what we call someone who dishes out a little bit o' goodies and then stops all of a sudden? A tease, that's what."
The environment, according to Bush aides, has caused America to curb its business such as automobile manufacturing, logging and textile manufacturing, and nuclear arms production. The environment is also believed responsible for mudslides, tornadoes and tropical storms, earthquakes, and other "natural disasters," and the White House is warning it that the heat will only go up until the environment ceases its actions.
America's demands: Unlimited fossil fuels, quicker replacement of oxygen, warmer climate in the winter and colder climate in the summer, and as many trees as we can chop down and turn into furniture.
"We're through jumping through your hoops, environment," said an angry Bush, addressing the sky. "Get rid of all this terror, and the way this whole city stinks. If you don't, we have no alternanative but to consult the U.N.—" Bush and a few buddies laughed in each other's directions. "…and take action against this direct threat to our safety. Remember, we know where you keep your rainforests." the commune news is not a friend to the environment, as that weird smell emanating from Rok Finger should tell anyone. Lil Duncan is a sex machine, only this one doesn't rip your member off like that faulty Thai pump we bought—yeeouch!
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New Apple Power Mac G5 to boost user feelings of superiority 20%
God joins War on Terror in Pakistan
Bush hopes other countries follow Libya's example, live in abject poverty
Theo Epstein Leaves Red Sox to Manage Greek Economy
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Pope Swears God Will Punish Drug Dealers With Poor-Quality Shit Vintage Dell to Grace Smithsonian's New What the Fuck Were We Thinking? Wing Isaac Hayes Recognized on Bad Mother’s Day 'Paris Hilton Autopsy' Sculpture Signed to Three-Picture Deal |
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 October 15, 2001
Volume 5Dear commune:
I feel a little dumb even asking this, but since the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks I've been plagued in my mind with the same question: Why can't the U.S.A. find Osama bin Laden? He is only one man and Afghanistan is a country smaller than the state of Texas. It seems like if we were serious about it, we could do it.
Don Hoffman,
Winston-Salem, Massachusetts
Dear Don:
We have turned your question over to commune Research Editor Griswald Dreck:
"Don, of course Osama bin Laden is only one man; unfortunately, this one man is a master of black magic and is able to walk through shadows like portals to other dimensions. One minute Osama Loddy-Dotty can be in some Quaker plantation milking butter, then the next he is back in Afghanistan sewing outfits for his 7-year-old soldiers. And in another split second he can walk through another shadow and be under your bed, planting a bomb or whatever suits him. And let us not forget the magical amulet he has that turns him into a cardboard cutout. One minute our military is coming in and the next they find that who they thought was Osama bin Laden in the flesh is actually a celebrity cutout for people who want to get their picture taken with him or for displays in book stores when his autobiography comes out—or so they thought!"
Thanks for your question.
the commune
Dear commune:
Last...
º Last Column: Volume 4
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Dear commune: I feel a little dumb even asking this, but since the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks I've been plagued in my mind with the same question: Why can't the U.S.A. find Osama bin Laden? He is only one man and Afghanistan is a country smaller than the state of Texas. It seems like if we were serious about it, we could do it. Don Hoffman,
Winston-Salem, MassachusettsDear Don:
We have turned your question over to commune Research Editor Griswald Dreck:
"Don, of course Osama bin Laden is only one man; unfortunately, this one man is a master of black magic and is able to walk through shadows like portals to other dimensions. One minute Osama Loddy-Dotty can be in some Quaker plantation milking butter, then the next he is back in Afghanistan sewing outfits for his 7-year-old soldiers. And in another split second he can walk through another shadow and be under your bed, planting a bomb or whatever suits him. And let us not forget the magical amulet he has that turns him into a cardboard cutout. One minute our military is coming in and the next they find that who they thought was Osama bin Laden in the flesh is actually a celebrity cutout for people who want to get their picture taken with him or for displays in book stores when his autobiography comes out—or so they thought!"
Thanks for your question.
the commune
Dear commune: Last night I saw your editor, Red Bagel, on the Conan O'Brien show and he was full of more alcohol than Dean Martin's piss. He kept calling Conan "Carmine" and demanding that the band play "She Drives Me Crazy" by the Fine Young Cannibals. I was deeply ashamed to be a commune reader, and then I saw the Conan O'Brien show and everything was alright again. But beyond that, I was intrigued by some of the specific drunken ramblings of Bagel to the NBC talk show host. He kept mentioning the "other angle" of the Kennedy assassination, alluding to, I suspect, some additional footage of the assassination of John F. Kennedy other than the Zapruder film that has not been released to the public. May I please know more of this? Emil Zender,
D'Artagnan, WashingtonDear Emil:
Red was, in fact, referring to the "other angle" of the assassination of John F. Kennedy, Jr., though the mistake is understandable since the junior Kennedy is widely believed to have died in a plane crash owing to difficulty with the weather. According to Red, the truth would open a vast conspiracy so dark and terrifying that Americans everywhere would collectively vomit upon hearing it.
Red is the leader in an effort to bring the truth behind Kennedy's alleged assassination to public attention, asserting that there is footage out there, taped by the same guy who caught the Rodney King beating on camera, an ex-C.I.A. man known as "Super Fudge" in innermost circles. This footage captures an angle at which you can clearly see government-trained gremlins having sexual congress with the right side of the plane, and Kennedy, though a skilled pilot, was unable to save the plane from crashing into the sea. Though why Red calls this footage the "other angle" is anyone's guess, since no footage of the Kennedy plane crash is available to our knowledge.
The details and reasons why are known, Red assures us, but he says no one accuses Shirley Temple Black and Blue Oyster Cult of pre-meditated murder without ample proof, so he is reluctant to reveal any information until the much-sought "other angle" footage is in his grubby little hands first.
Thanks for asking, Emil.
the commune
Dear commune: I like what you're doing with your little commune thing here. Very nifty. I've tried investing in stock for the commune, but apparently you can't buy it in regular markets. I was wondering, does the commune have a mission statement? Are there any rules for commune reports, or guidelines to follow? DeWayne Juan
New York City, New YorkDear DeWayne:
You cannot purchase commune stock anywhere, we are not a corporation up for sale to the highest bidder. You can, however, get free commune stock by collecting Rolly Cigarettes coupons and sending them in, though most people opt for the reversible hunting hat.
We at the commune have a mission statement like anyone intent on delivering quality service to the customer. However, the mission statement has changed several times over the years since the staff usually cannot agree on any one statement. Our first mission statement was "Put out or get out." After that we switched to, "You don't have to be crazy to work here, but cocoa humping donkey." A few folks laughed at that but others didn't care for it, so we started going with, "Good to the last goddamn drop," and of course that offended the coffee people and Christians. We replaced our mission statement with some indecipherable clucking noises for a while, and that was doing fine, but we eventually decided to change it again.
This is our most recent mission statement, and it hangs proudly on the door of our New York offices: "I don't see any bright ideas coming from you, Mr. Bigshot with the fat mouth and all."
And every day all of the commune reporters, columnists, sponsors, and staff nurses do their damndest to make that statement true. Thanks for writing, DeWayne.
the commune
Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for nobody but the commune, and the commune don't need nobody neither, so you can just go back to living with your mom and leave the commune to it's stacks of Maxims and Guns & Ammo, the commune will be fine. You'll see.º Last Column: Volume 4º more columns
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|  February 18, 2002
Welcome to My NightmareI've had more than my share of ups and downs in my twenty-four years on this planet. After the life I've led, I'm sure you can imagine how happy I was to get a regular gig writing for a well-known respected news source. Then those dildos at Entertainment Weekly bounced my ass back into the street. My luck always turns its nose down, given enough time. But you know the old saying, every time God farts he opens a window, and things are steadying for me again as the folks at the commune have brought me aboard to publish my column Child Star.
For anyone who doesn't know me, I'll spend this column on the long version of the introduction.
The name, for those of you who can't read bold print, is Clarissa Coleman, and as I mentioned, this column is called Child Star. I plan it to be about the perils of being raised "in the business" as those of us in the business describe it—shit, how you like that? I used the phrase while describing what it means. But picking up where I left off, this column will cover everything from my rise as a child star (see column title) to my plummet to where I'm at now. And if there's any justice, it will also chronicle current happenings as I again rise to some middling degree of sanity or something. Warzy, eh?
I may not look immediately familiar, but be assured, at one time my little dimpled face was like a machine that printed its own money in Hollywood. I first gained national attention as the little girl in the...
º Last Column: Home for the Horrordays
º more columns
I've had more than my share of ups and downs in my twenty-four years on this planet. After the life I've led, I'm sure you can imagine how happy I was to get a regular gig writing for a well-known respected news source. Then those dildos at Entertainment Weekly bounced my ass back into the street. My luck always turns its nose down, given enough time. But you know the old saying, every time God farts he opens a window, and things are steadying for me again as the folks at the commune have brought me aboard to publish my column Child Star.
For anyone who doesn't know me, I'll spend this column on the long version of the introduction.
The name, for those of you who can't read bold print, is Clarissa Coleman, and as I mentioned, this column is called Child Star. I plan it to be about the perils of being raised "in the business" as those of us in the business describe it—shit, how you like that? I used the phrase while describing what it means. But picking up where I left off, this column will cover everything from my rise as a child star (see column title) to my plummet to where I'm at now. And if there's any justice, it will also chronicle current happenings as I again rise to some middling degree of sanity or something. Warzy, eh?
I may not look immediately familiar, but be assured, at one time my little dimpled face was like a machine that printed its own money in Hollywood. I first gained national attention as the little girl in the Germanhäus baked potato commercials. Does "I gots butter on my tummy!" ring any bells? I thought so.
From there, of course, I went on to play baby Alfie on everybody's favorite soap opera of 1983, Search For An Exit. They only gave me one line a week to start, but soon I had more lines than that one disagreeable kid played by three triplets. The whole soap thing was never too serious, just a springboard to other things. Just as planned, it helped me get a sweet sitcom deal when I became the starring kid on Who's Your Daddy? with beloved actor Brad Van Danner. As you might guess, it was the gravy train from then on. Until it wasn't, which is where I'm at now and why I'm writing this column to make ends meet.
Well, eventually, even the biggest hit show can only run so long. We were canceled two years later, a year and a half if you subtract the long hiatus while the network was trying to decide to bring back the show or not. "Washed up at 9," the headlines all read about me. Or at least that's what my mom said, I wasn't literate at the time and couldn't read the headlines.
Naturally I descended into depression, booze, and drugs, though never all at the same time. All the tabloids you read about me? Some true. Some not. Most true. Some not. I'm sure I'll get the chance to explain everything through the span of this column, assuming of course the folks at the commune aren't as cancel-happy as some dildos at ABC.
I want to say, too, that I'll be dedicating this column to someone special in my life. Someone who's worked harder than anyone I know, struggled uphill through countless battles and always comes back for some reason I'll never guess. Of course I'm talking about me. My column, for me, I damn well deserve it at this point.
Thanks for reading and piss off if you didn't. º Last Column: Home for the Horrordaysº more columns
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Quote of the Day“The true measure of a man is four inches, four and a quarter. That's flaccid. No joke.”
-Samuel "Big" JohnsonFortune 500 CookieTry to remember every dog has his day, and Tuesday, it's yours, Rags. Looks like you being selected as Oprah's Book of the Month wasn't the last bad thing that'll happen to you. You still haven't taken down the Christmas decorations? Son of a bitch.
Try again later.Least-Watched Holiday Specials| 1. | A Bush Family Christmas | | 2. | I'm Dreaming of a White Krishna | | 3. | VH1 Behind the Music: That Guy Who Sang Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer | | 4. | Christopher Walken in a Winter Wonderland | | 5. | Gerald Ford Reads "Twas the Night Before…" Oh Shit | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 7/1/2001 What's the haps, America? Well, you can forget about all of that crap because it's Oscar time! It's that magical time of year when the Academy tells us what's the best of the best, and we cry "Bullshit! What about Blue Streak?". I'm here, as always, to help you sift through the nominees to find the golden nougat hidden within. And just in case you're worried that your Uncle Roland might be a little off his John Rocker, I'm well aware that the actual Oscar ceremony took place a few months ago. I've been pretty busy running a rotisserie bocciball league this spring and justhaven't had much time. But never fear, though I taped the show I haven't got around to watching it yet, so rest assured that these picks and pans are fresh as a newborn can of Bud Light.
As always, some of...
What's the haps, America? Well, you can forget about all of that crap because it's Oscar time! It's that magical time of year when the Academy tells us what's the best of the best, and we cry "Bullshit! What about Blue Streak?". I'm here, as always, to help you sift through the nominees to find the golden nougat hidden within. And just in case you're worried that your Uncle Roland might be a little off his John Rocker, I'm well aware that the actual Oscar ceremony took place a few months ago. I've been pretty busy running a rotisserie bocciball league this spring and justhaven't had much time. But never fear, though I taped the show I haven't got around to watching it yet, so rest assured that these picks and pans are fresh as a newborn can of Bud Light.
As always, some of the best films to come out in the last year weren't even nominated, providing ample proof of the academy's blind-spot for instant classics like "O Brother, Where's My Car?" and "The Big Kahuna's House". But, we've got to make the best of what we're given here. On to the nominees:
Best Picture
Chocotaco
These things are awesome. I didn't even know they were based on a movie.
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
The Sports Star/Asskicker buddy picture concept that didn't work for Dennis Rodman and Jacques Costeau in "Double Team" somehow comes up big for man-boy golf sensation Tiger Woods and spasmatic Chinaman Jackie Chan in this butt-rocking gem. It's Chan's talent that carries the film, however, as the screenwriters have to keep inventing ways to showcase Woods' abilities in the context of fight sequences. Some are more plausible than others. There are a lot of shots of Chan chasing an entertainment lawyer down an alleyway so Woods can hit him with a golf ball or Chan wrestling a ninja-thug onto the beach so Woods can utilize his sand wedge. Despite these rough edges, this is a stellar film that will make you want to either practice your putting or learn to kick ass with a flag pin.
Erin Brockovich
Erin won some serious kudos this year for her role as a chick playing a movie star playing a book store owner playing a wedding planner playing footsie with Hugh Grant. As far as I'm concerned, she deserves the "Best Actress" plaque just for keeping all that straight. Not to be confused with 70's folksinger Edwin Broncobitch.
Gladiator
Proving that they know their classic Beatles movies like "A Hard Day's Night", "SHIT!" and "Goldfinger", the Black Crowes embark on this cinematic romp through the Roman Empire that can't help but entertain. Rome will never be the same after the Crows are done trying to save Ringo from the rehab clinic, becoming bumbling slaves and slapstick coliseum stars along the way.
Terminator 2: Judgement Day
Arnie's back and this time he's got "Oscar" written all over his meaty ass. Guys loved it because shit got killed, girls loved it because in the jacuzzi scene, you can almost see his Schwartzenegger. That's what I hear anyway. I wasn't looking.
Traffic
Like the saying goes: when it rains classic-rock band-movies, it pours. Steve Winwood and crew reunite and prove they're "Feelin' Alright" in this adaptation of the Toni Morrison novel "Black Rain". Much running around and silly hats ensues.
Best Director
Stephen Soderbergh, Traffic
Coming a long way from his immature early period (E.T., Glenn Close Encounters Her Third Kid, Stark Raving Sharks), Soderbergh finally hits his stride and rolls with it in this fable about higher love and those magical things that the night can do.
Stephen Soderbergh, Erin Brockovich
Proving that he can not only direct a great film, but also sneak into the theater twice wearing a phoney mustache, Soderbergh pulls a fast one on the academy with his second nominated film of the year. Here Soderbergh finally realizes the unfulfilled promise of his earlier films, such as "Gremlins", "Hookin'" and "Polacks in Space".
Ripley Scott, Gladiator
As host of one of the most outrageous game shows of the 70's, "Ripley's Believe it or Scott!", Scott Ripley saw more larval aliens burst out of contestant's chests than many people have seen non alien-bursting chests to begin with. This experience helped Ripley bring an unflinching realism to this sometimes-troubling tale of a rock band running around ancient Rome to xylophone music.
Ang Lee, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Another hilarious joke-name nomination this year, I can just hear those Academy numbskulls yukking it up over Evian martinis and cracking wise: "I'm velly Ang Lee I didn't win! Velly Ang Lee!". Those guys are cards.
Stephen Daldry, Billy Elliot
If there are two things I love, they're two-man directing teams and the Who. 'Nuff said.
Best Actor
Russell Crowe, Gladiator
One of the classiest cameos of the year had this dude from that Led Zeppelin movie play onstage with the old guy from the Black Crowes, who incidentally is married to Frances McDormand.
Javier Bardem, Before Night Falls
No no no, I ordered the tacquitos, senior.
Tom Hanks, Castaway
Proving that being typecast isn't always a bad thing, last year's turn in Saving Pirate Ryan prepared Hanks perfectly for this salty salute to shanghai-ed summer lovin'. I once declared that I'd never let a movie about gay pirate sex make me cry again, but Castaway done made a liar out of your old friend Roland McShyster.
Ed Harris, Pollack
Another academy gag name, everybody knows Ed's German. Second only to his gag co-star, Martian Gay Hard-on.
Geoffrey Rush, Quills
Who?
Best Actress
Joan Allen, The Contender
I love when she does that grunting thing. Chicks and their power tools, I tell ya.
Juliette Binoche, Chocotaco
Weight watchers, Juliette Binoche. Now that everyone's met, we're going to be spending some time together. Ha ha! This is fun!
Ellen Burstyn, Requiem for a Dreamcast
So believable as one of those moms who hates video games that I got half way to the park before I realized I don't like being outside.
Laura Croft, You Can Count on Me
She can kick ass, do back flips, and raise a kid without a father around. I'd be all over her like OJ on a white chick if it weren't for the fact that I need a stepkid like Dick Cheney and his pig-heart need a bacon-grease sandwich. That, and she's a video game character. I learned my lesson with Ms Pacman on that one.
Jason Robards, Erin Brockovich
Pretty funny guys, Jason may have tits and he plays a great lawyer, but I'd have to do some pretty intense penitentiary time before I nominated him for Best Actress.
Well folks, I'm Roland McShyster, you're America, and that was the Oscars Roundup! I hope it was one of the defining experiences of our generation.   |
