You need a newer browser.

4/24/26   
Jesus' Favorite Website
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

Arafat Voted "Hunkiest Palestinian"

April 15, 2002
Ramallah, West Bank
Ansel Evans
Arafat poses for an Arab Teen photo shoot
F
or a record 28th year in a row, Yasser Arafat, leader of the mega-popular boy band PLO, has been voted "Hunkiest Palestinian." The award, which often leads to lucrative endorsement deals and speaking engagements, was not unexpected. Mr. Arafat had token opposition from members of PLO-spinoff bands Hamas and Hezbollah, but no one seriously expected any of them to challenge the reigning MC Mullah of the Gaza for the winner's turban this year.

In a café here on the West Bank, 16-year-old rock-throwing enthusiast Rajouba Aswan said about Mr. Arafat, "He's the OG, man. He's to die for." Friend Jamil Barghouti, 17, chimed in, while adjusting an explosive-laden vest. "That's right, yo. Yas-Dog – I mean, Mr. Arafat – is da bomb."

Cited by West Bank teenagers as reaso...Read more...


Drunk U.S. pilot still flies better than terrorists

Finely Aged Winemaker Ernest Gallo Corked

Vintage Dell to Grace Smithsonian's New What the Fuck Were We Thinking? Wing

Sepracor sleep drug packs power of 600 history teachers



June 13, 2005

Click for Biography

You Are Cordially Insulted...

Every one of you are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Rockwell T. Finger and Rutherford Ginger Baker this Sunday, at the Flatbush Mall of 'Merica. Invited, of course, as long as you actually receive one of those little cardboard notes saying you can come. They all should be in the mail by now, according to Ginger. They are handwritten, so we can save all the money for the honeymoon in Haiti. We are going there to save money for buying something we really want, like solid gold dollar-sign rims for our automobile.

If you haven't received an invitation, it probably means you're shit out of luck. We'll be sending out the shit-out-of-luck cards tomorrow, to verify to everyone. There are a lot of those. But fewer guests mean more catered food for us and our eight or nine close friends we invited.

Unfortunately, someone—I think that no-goodnik Omar Bricks, or probably one of those other many, many no-goodniks who work here, posted our wedding invitation on the commune bulletin board. Ginger doesn't believe many of them will come to the wedding anyway, since I'm generally hated here at the office, but we're serving fried baloney and hosting square dancing (with a real caller!) so you can imagine I'm fearing a rush of uninvited guests. Damn, I didn't want to have the squad dancing caller! Like putting an open bar at a wedding. But an old friend of mine from the Russian mob was available, so we decided to ask him.

It occurs to me...Read more...


º Last Column: Abducted by Beatniks
º more columns


August 15, 2001

Click for Biography

Lost My Way on the Slow Gray Train

This week's Nedmiller Column is excerpted from "Spastic Diaper: The Ned Nedmiller Story" by Rolando Burf. Continued from last week.

And it might still be that way today if it weren't for one Nedriff Nipplebelt Nedmiller. When Ned heard of the buffalo problem, he locked himself in his laboratory, pronouncing that he would not appear again until he had the solution. Neighbors wondered at the strange noises coming from Ned's lab at all hours of the day and night: the singing of saws, the burping of crows and the vague smell of a swimming pool on fire. Someone called for a constable when a rumor circulated that Ned was melting down school children into paraffin wax, but just as the fuzz was about to knock on Ned's door, the man himself flung open his doors and announced to the world that their problems were over.

The device that Ned presented to the world looked like a cross between a smallish piano and a largish dentistry utensil, on wheels. It had a crank on one side and a flared cone on the other. And on top there was a mannequin head wearing a hat. On the side, hand-lettered in on it's black surface in black paint (or so he told the people), it said "Ned Nedmiller's Framjambulous Laughing Machine".

Refusing the spectators' pleas for a demonstration, Ned hopped aboard the Laughing Machine and rode it west, toward the Plains. It was a four-week journey, but thanks to the help of a flock of pelicans, and Ned's invention of a land-sail, it...Read more...


º Last Column: Check His Nipples, He May Be The King
º more columns






Quote of the Day
“I'd like to give the world a Coke, but they'd have to share it. Actually, all anyone can do is smell it, since most of the Coke will likely have evaporated by the time it gets all the way around the world. So here you go, world: Smell my Coke.”

-Dennis Freebasen
Fortune 500 Cookie
You're a real asshole when you're tired. Or rested. This is the week you're finally going to get pantsed for your sins. Try brushing your teeth with the other end of the brush this week: that fuzzy part's not the handle. This week's lucky things the dog wouldn't even eat: your hat on a bet, Tofutti Cuties, dog barf, Sam's Club Brand Dog Food, your homemade rhubarb pie.


Try again later.
Top More Things to Do With a Severed Finger
1.Donate it to shop teachers in need
2.Really get your waiter's attention
3.Confuse the hell out of C.S.I.
4.Pick your friends and your nose
5.Dip it in gold; make yourself an "I'm # 1" award
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 Jay Salinas
5/3/2004
Dick Food
The hyenas of Sunset Boulevard chew on my taint
like bubblegum in the mouth
of the oldest spoiled daughter
of this widow I've been screwing for beer money.

Nasty ravens chomping on my eyeballs like pimento olives
at the dog track.
Run, you shitbreathed little mutt!
Did I really bet my last five bucks
on this three-legged Shi Tsu?

I gotta stop drinking Bicardi.
The only picture in my room
is of me having sex
with a porcelain carousel horse at the fair.
Jesus, who paid to get this thing framed?

The only thing worse than a facial scar you don't remember getting
is one you do.
Blurry memories of flying fists after mooning
the Special-Ed bus.
Pissed-off...Read more...

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