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July 11, 2005 |
Ketcham, NJ National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration A satellite photo of the menacing storm. ortals fled in terror from the Gulf Coast, fearing the rising wrath of Hurricane Dennis. The dangerous storm had already inflicted severe damage on Cuba, then grew in strength to a category 4 storm, which is apparently a meaner storm than what it had been before. But the real threat may lie in a small garden in New Jersey, where corporeal being Mr. Wilson assured reporters the "menace" was after nothing else but his rose garden.
"He's back," stammered the fearful, doddering old fool. "He's back and he's come to finish off the job he started on my flower bed! And then I'm next!"
Old George Wilson, a Ketcham, New Jersey resident of 60+ years, claims the storm to be the reincarnation of a dead neighbor boy who has carried a talent for mischief into his reincarnated...
ortals fled in terror from the Gulf Coast, fearing the rising wrath of Hurricane Dennis. The dangerous storm had already inflicted severe damage on Cuba, then grew in strength to a category 4 storm, which is apparently a meaner storm than what it had been before. But the real threat may lie in a small garden in New Jersey, where corporeal being Mr. Wilson assured reporters the "menace" was after nothing else but his rose garden.
"He's back," stammered the fearful, doddering old fool. "He's back and he's come to finish off the job he started on my flower bed! And then I'm next!"
Old George Wilson, a Ketcham, New Jersey resident of 60+ years, claims the storm to be the reincarnation of a dead neighbor boy who has carried a talent for mischief into his reincarnated hurricane form. Wilson warned the local media, but when they failed to listen, brought his story to the commune, the world's most gullible news source.
"That Dennis has only one goal in mind," warned Wilson. "He wants to destroy my roses and drive me out of my mind!" When it was pointed out that those were actually two goals, old man Wilson pulled out a chunk of his own hair and screeched.
Indeed the hurricane has destroyed several gardens and virtually everything else it touched in Cuba, and has turned to engage the Gulf Coast of the United States. Though the New Jersey rose garden in question is several hundred miles out of the hurricane's current direction, Wilson assures all it is the hurricane's ultimate target.
Some of Wilson's story was easily verified, including the existence of a young boy named Dennis Mitchell who lived next door to Wilson in the 1950s. Though the boy mysteriously disappeared several years ago and his body was never found, Wilson claims the hurricane now bombarding the United States and terrorizing himself out of a feud the ghost carried into his new existence.
"That little monster says he just wants to play," groaned the old man, "then he makes noise and sets off fireworks and wreaks havoc on everything. He had to go, don't you understand? He had to! I just… I needed peace and quiet. That's all I wanted… a little peace and quiet!"
Though there didn't seem to be any doubt to the possibility of a young troublemaker being reincarnated as a category 4 hurricane, some further explanation seemed necessary: Why trash Cuba as he did? Why not simply come back as a tornado in New Jersey, or a gopher, or any number of creatures cable of destroying a garden quickly and efficiently?
"I'm not sure why he came back as a hurricane," admitted Wilson. "But I can guess why he attacked Cuba. That Mitchell boy always hated the Commies. He planned on growing up to fight them in World War III. He… he always made me be the Reds. He forced me to play soldiers with him," sobbed the old man.
Contacted for further comment, Wilson's wife contradicted the man's version of the story, painting a picture of an old fussbucket and a charming young man who just wanted to be friends.
"Oh, I thought he was a perfect little gentleman," said Mrs. Wilson. "The problem with my George is, he's just grumpy. He's half out of his mind sometimes, you know. And if that hurricane does destroy that rose garden of ours… oh, well. Tropical winds will be tropical winds." the commune news has never known of a little boy to be reincarnated as a hurricane, but we have suspected that bum that keeps shitting on our lawn might have been a large orange dog we knew in another life. If Mordecai "Three-Finger" Brown is ever reincarnated, we'll be pissed at losing the only reporter who works for free.
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British Nearly Affected by London Terror Attacks ith their famously stoic façade put to the ultimate test, Londoners came through with flying colors this week, failing to register the slightest emotion in the face of stunning terror attacks on the city’s mass transit system that left 50 dead and over 700 wounded. “Oh yes, it was quite a mess,” explained commuter Harold Alburn, who was aboard one of the bombed subway trains and only survived due to being caked in a human cocoon formed by the flaming remains of his fellow passengers. “That rail line’s going to be down for weeks, you have to assume.” Jackson Prosecution Produces Bloody Glove he Michael Jackson trial escalated to the seventh level of hooplah Friday as prosecutors introduced into evidence a bloody sequined gloved that had not been previously revealed publicly. The defense requested a recess, to which the witty judge replied that no one had been good enough to deserve recess, but they would take a brief break. It gave the Jackson defense, led by attorney and Warhol knock-off Thomas Mesereau, a chance to recover from the five-fingered blow. Heather Graham’s Career Found Dead in Apartment Polish Roof Falls in Following “Drinks Are on the House” Debacle |
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 December 20, 2004
Go Home: The History of Video Games TwoThe history of video games thus far can be neatly divided into three eras: the Arcade Era, which was covered in part one of this series, spanned the rise of video gaming up from the primordial, pixilated ooze. Second was the Console Era, when gamers finally gained the opportunity to play lame, half-assed knockoffs of their arcade favorites at home, for the quarter-saving initial outlay of several hundred dollars. But it did mean less time spent developing cancer in the smoke-filled game room of the local bowling alley, so progress was progress. Thirdly came the No-Arcade Era, after home consoles got so good that there was no reason to go to the arcade any more, unless you were too broke to buy Camels and needed a fix of second-hand smoke, or you wanted to play that life-sized Stuck In Traffic driving game.
But forget about that third era for now, you'll just get confused since this column is all about the second one, the rise of the consoles. From the first, shitastic home Pong in 1972, through the Atari 2600, Colecovision, Intellivision and Chevy's little-known and ill-fated foray into the gaming business, Impallavision, home consoles have sprouted hair on the nads of an entire generation.
The very first home video game console was Magnavox's Odyssey in 1972, an impressive bit of engineering done in by the fact that they never made any games for it. This oversight on Maganvox's part quickly became apparent in 1973, when home gamers...
º Last Column: You Lose: The History of Video Games º more columns
The history of video games thus far can be neatly divided into three eras: the Arcade Era, which was covered in part one of this series, spanned the rise of video gaming up from the primordial, pixilated ooze. Second was the Console Era, when gamers finally gained the opportunity to play lame, half-assed knockoffs of their arcade favorites at home, for the quarter-saving initial outlay of several hundred dollars. But it did mean less time spent developing cancer in the smoke-filled game room of the local bowling alley, so progress was progress. Thirdly came the No-Arcade Era, after home consoles got so good that there was no reason to go to the arcade any more, unless you were too broke to buy Camels and needed a fix of second-hand smoke, or you wanted to play that life-sized Stuck In Traffic driving game.
But forget about that third era for now, you'll just get confused since this column is all about the second one, the rise of the consoles. From the first, shitastic home Pong in 1972, through the Atari 2600, Colecovision, Intellivision and Chevy's little-known and ill-fated foray into the gaming business, Impallavision, home consoles have sprouted hair on the nads of an entire generation.
The very first home video game console was Magnavox's Odyssey in 1972, an impressive bit of engineering done in by the fact that they never made any games for it. This oversight on Maganvox's part quickly became apparent in 1973, when home gamers grew bored of playing with the console's menu screen and realized there were no games in this game console. Magnavox attempted to re-release the Odyssey as simply a "console" in 1974, hoping to profit on mystery alone, but this tactic soon proved as futile as their attempts a year earlier to convince gamers that the Odyssey was actually full of fun games, but that finding them was the most challenging game of all.
The Odyssey was soon superseded by Coleco's Telstar in 1976, a big oval box that put out more radiation than a Russian microwave. Coleco originally started out as the Connecticut Leather Company (I shit you not), which over the years had made leather craft kits for shoe makers and, just for the hell of it, plastic kiddie pools. Their experience with kiddie pools made them a natural to enter the highly competitive world of complex consumer electronics, but unfortunately a complete lack of engineering know-how left Coleco with a product more deadly than Hasbro's ill-fated "Exploding Porcupine" doll in the mid-70's. Coleco made one last stab at saving the Telstar with their "It glows in the dark!" ad campaign in 1977, but after a while the mounting death toll began to hurt the company's bottom line.
In spite of never having put out a home console, Atari was dominating the home console market by the mid-70's due in large part to the criminal ineptitude of their competitors. The company was started by a couple of computer science drop-outs, Noel Bushnell and Cole Dabney, who had both been kicked out of college for refusing to toe the party line about things like not making grilled cheese sandwiches on hot motherboards or obeying programming language syntax. Though they originally wanted to name their company Syzygy, for the sound a keyboard makes when you sit on it, that name was already being used by an Indiana roofing company. So the two had to settle for Atari, a Japanese chess term meaning "Eat shit and lose."
After the success of their initial run of arcade games, Atari decided to take the next logical step by opening a chain of restaurants featuring singing robot animals in 1977. Pizza Time Theater and its mascot, a terrifying man-sized rat named Chuck E. Cheese, was an instant success. But once he saw his vision in action, Bushnell, who'd thought of the concept while getting stoned at Disneyland the year before, was scared straight and immediately steered Atari's course toward the home console market.
Atari released the 2600 later that year, which was quickly followed by Bally's copycat console, the Bally Professional Arcade. Though Bally would not answer questions about who exactly these video gaming professionals were that the console was being marketed to, the system was a minor hit due to the workout provided by kids moving the unreasonably heavy console from TV to TV whenever they wanted to play the console's only game, Meathead.
Again boosted by the ineptitudes of their competitors, Atari made another bold move in 1978, releasing the Atari 400 to compete with Apple's line of home computers. Consumers, however, prefered the way Apple's computers went "boop" and did nothing useful, and Atari quickly withdrew from the shitty computer market. Magnavox would also briefly try to dethrone Apple with their Odyssey 2 home computer, which quickly failed due to a complete lack of software.
Sales of Atari's 2600 skyrocketed in 1980 with the release of the system's first game, Space Invaders. Finally finding the key to home console success through the synergistic combination of system hardware and games, Atari was quickly aped by toymaker Mattel with the release of the Intellivision later that year. Realizing Mattel's console wasn't selling well due to its association with intelligence, Coleco named their new console Colecovision in 1982 and cleaned up, in spite of the system's bizarre controllers that looked like some kind of garage door opener from hell.
Later that year, a Chicago man would drop dead of a heart attack while playing Atari's Berserk, sending video game sales through the roof.
That event was to be Atari's last hurrah for some time, however, since at around the same time Atari released their home port of Pac-Man for their 2600 console, in a version so stupefyingly shitty as to cause the infamous video game crash of 1982.
From late 1982 through 1985 the home video game market went down in heinous flames, due to the dozens of different consoles being released almost daily by anyone with a soldering kit and a bad idea. Consumers eventually grew confused, trying to play Danavision games on their Scatari console, or trying to plug Donkey Kong Jr. into their toasters. Soon gamers gave up and went back to playing Stratego and throwing rocks at squirrels, spelling death for the video game industry. And it wouldn't be until 1985 that a fat ethnic plumber would roust the industry from its watery grave and once again enslave the minds of a generation. But that's a sunshine story for another day. º Last Column: You Lose: The History of Video Gamesº more columns
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|  February 17, 2003
Green is CardBoris watching T.V. in the night to see funny man speaks of Jesus. Favoritefunny show this week for Boris, man with fiberglass hair say thing of lord infunny voice all times. "PRAISETHEJESUS!" he yell and Boris is laughing. Boristell this joke to persons at supermarket but no laughing from them. Person withbib say to Boris "Cash or credit, sir?" and Boris yell "PRAISETHEJESUS!" butBoris only one laughing.
Boris think persons is sad from wearing bib.
So like said, Boris is watching funny T.V. when commercial come on to tell Borisof Girls Got Wild. Is exciting movie. In movie girls decide is time forno clothes. And so "POOF!" no clothes and dancing. Boris love dancing! Whatlovely movie.
Back in Homeland, Boris always want such girls. But no, never for Boris. Bestfriend Mikhail have such a girl as partner long time. So much fun. All times sheis being naked and drinking drunk. At church and grocery even. And sexing withall Mikhail friends, so much fun. Mikhail always lucky that way.
One time Boris think he have such girl in Sonja. Sonja go wild and bite Boris onface and call Boris mother fucker of mother. Is this fun of wild girls? ButBoris friends tell that Sonja is not wild, is bitch. Oh no! Boris mistake. Sonjacould make movie Girls Got Bitch all perfection.
Boris never got wild girl, so Boris want movie all very much. So Boris calltelephone with number to say "Give to Boris Girls Got...
º Last Column: Boris is Superbowl Party º more columns
Boris watching T.V. in the night to see funny man speaks of Jesus. Favoritefunny show this week for Boris, man with fiberglass hair say thing of lord infunny voice all times. "PRAISETHEJESUS!" he yell and Boris is laughing. Boristell this joke to persons at supermarket but no laughing from them. Person withbib say to Boris "Cash or credit, sir?" and Boris yell "PRAISETHEJESUS!" butBoris only one laughing.
Boris think persons is sad from wearing bib.
So like said, Boris is watching funny T.V. when commercial come on to tell Borisof Girls Got Wild. Is exciting movie. In movie girls decide is time forno clothes. And so "POOF!" no clothes and dancing. Boris love dancing! Whatlovely movie.
Back in Homeland, Boris always want such girls. But no, never for Boris. Bestfriend Mikhail have such a girl as partner long time. So much fun. All times sheis being naked and drinking drunk. At church and grocery even. And sexing withall Mikhail friends, so much fun. Mikhail always lucky that way.
One time Boris think he have such girl in Sonja. Sonja go wild and bite Boris onface and call Boris mother fucker of mother. Is this fun of wild girls? ButBoris friends tell that Sonja is not wild, is bitch. Oh no! Boris mistake. Sonjacould make movie Girls Got Bitch all perfection.
Boris never got wild girl, so Boris want movie all very much. So Boris calltelephone with number to say "Give to Boris Girls Got Wild!"
But then Boris having problem. Movie persons not wanting magic beans for movie!No fooling with you! Boris shake head at crazy world. Persons wanting dollar formovie, and Boris not having dollar. Is sad day.
Louis explain that Boris need special job for get dollar, not like "I am BagelRed!" job. Not same. Job like driving bus or to ski on television.
Boris think for time and think of like to scrub floor with tennis ball on stick.This is job for Boris!
So Boris go to store and tell "Give to Boris tennis ball job!"
Man in hat talk to Boris about job and to fill out fun papers. Then man ask forto see Boris green card. Boris give to man of card, but man look like smellingold dirty neighbors.
Boris say "You not worry, green is card!" with smile like no problem.
But man in hat is not going happy. Him look like holding onto big shit. "Are youfucking with me? This is a Home Depot card!"
Boris nod and smile. "Green is card!"
End of exciting story is no tennis ball job for Boris, man in hat not liking himnot lots. So no Girls Got Wild not other. Sad, no? No! Surprise by happyending is you! Boris go home and find Louis already have movie.
What happy movie is life. º Last Column: Boris is Superbowl Partyº more columns
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Quote of the Day“Love, love will tear us apart again. So quit telling those jocks we both like it in the butt.”
-Joy DivinskiFortune 500 CookieYou will spend so much time with your foot in your mouth this week, people will mistake it for performance art. Beat the living shit out of the first person who calls you "buddy" today—best to nip that shit in the bud. Your only remaining shot at true happiness now is joining a cult or getting hooked on heroin: your call. This week's lucky midgets: "Stretch" Svorsded, Suitcase Mike, Jimmy "Dogslapper" McVaughn, Upskirt Kilgore, Ross "The Toss" Ramstein.
Try again later.Top Searches| 1. | Lost Loves | | 2. | Sea Serpents | | 3. | A Girl Like Mom | | 4. | How Do I Search | | 5. | Great Hair | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Red Bagel 3/1/2004 A Fistful of Tannenbaum Chapter 3: Danger Cabin!Editor's Note: Millionaire raconteur Jed Foster was dragged back into a life of adventure by an old acquaintance, Hans "Two-Bit" Reilly, who may never be referred to as "Two-Bit" again, outside the Editor's Note. They climbed a mountain, there was some reference to a girl named Audreybell and a free backrub coupon, and a lot of horseshit about a lockbox.
They had started to open the door to the cabin when Jed grabbed Reilly's arm, stopping him.
"Careful, the door's wired," said Jed.
Reilly pulled his gun dramatically. "So, the door's been working for the cops the whole time."
"No, not that kind of wire—explosives. One wrong move and the whole cabin could go up like a cigar smoker in a Tennessee fireworks stand."

Editor's Note: Millionaire raconteur Jed Foster was dragged back into a life of adventure by an old acquaintance, Hans "Two-Bit" Reilly, who may never be referred to as "Two-Bit" again, outside the Editor's Note. They climbed a mountain, there was some reference to a girl named Audreybell and a free backrub coupon, and a lot of horseshit about a lockbox.
They had started to open the door to the cabin when Jed grabbed Reilly's arm, stopping him.
"Careful, the door's wired," said Jed.
Reilly pulled his gun dramatically. "So, the door's been working for the cops the whole time."
"No, not that kind of wire—explosives. One wrong move and the whole cabin could go up like a cigar smoker in a Tennessee fireworks stand."
"First the door's stooling for the cops, now he's strapped up with TNT. He's out of his fucking mind."
Jed ignored his temporary partner and unrigged the door, snipping the wire carefully with his bomb-neutralizing scissors, $500 from the L.L. Bean catalogue. He nudged the door open with his foot, shielding himself behind Reilly just in case, and nodded. The smell of old wood and Ben Gay wafted from the cabin.
"It looks like they actually left it empty," said Reilly with a smile.
Jed shook his head. "You know what they say about appearances?"
"They're worth two-thousand words."
"No, you just made that up. They say they're deceiving," clarified Jed. He told Reilly to search the corners and not let his gun drop at all. Jed took a folding shovel from his backpack and pried up the floorboards, until he was sure the cabin was unoccupied.
"The lockbox!" reminded Reilly. "We've got to find the lockbox."
"Look in the wall safe, behind that picture."
Reilly took down a handsome portrait of Audreybell, who had once been the love of Jed's life. The picture stared back at him, flat, oily, a pale shadowy image of a real person—just like Audreybell had been. While Jed was lost in his thoughts, refusing to ask for directions, Reilly chipped into the wood behind the portrait. Wood gathered in pieces at his feet, until he broke through the wall and the cold breeze blew in and chilled them.
"It's gone!" shouted Reilly. "The wall safe has been stolen!"
"Oh, that's right. We didn't have a wall safe. It's under the bed."
From under a thin mattress on rusty springs, Reilly pulled up the famous gray steel lockbox. He shook it with excitement.
"We got it, Jed! I can't believe it was this easy!" he stated prophetically.
Before Jed had a chance to make a statement soon proven ironic, two men burst out from behind the door with their guns drawn.
"Damn!" cursed Jed. "Behind the door! I always forget about behind the door."
"Do you recognize me, Foster?" wheezed the more muscular of the two villains. He pointed at a black eye patch with his gloved finger. "You gave me this!"
"Yes, I felt sorry for you after you shot your eye out with that B.B. gun," said Jed solemnly. "But just because we exchanged a few gifts doesn't mean I'm going to let you take the lockbox, Fango."
"Too bad, Jed," said Fango, cocking his gun, as his associate gunned his cock. "I had hoped our old friendship might help us avoid some bloodshed. But it's for the best. After all, I love bloodshed! Almost as much as I love candy."
Next Chapter: Different Day, Same Bullets   |