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May 31, 2004 |
Crawford, TX Assad the Unseen President Bush, seen both after and (inset) during his hilarious battle with gravity n a move pundits suspect was designed to improve the president’s poll numbers among the nation’s comedy writers, George W. Bush ate complete shit off a bike during a ride at his Texas ranch last Sunday afternoon. The president spoke for reporters while covered in several comical facial bandages and wearing an arm sling this week to address the topic of his crash, which Bush claims he participated in to prove a point about his increasingly unpopular Iraq policy.
“Even when things don’t go exactly as planned, and you hit a goddamned pothole on the road to liberation, you’ve got to climb back on that nation and ride her home,” Bush declared. Though the vaguely sexual imagery unnerved some, many felt that this was one of the most successful of the president’s many...
n a move pundits suspect was designed to improve the president’s poll numbers among the nation’s comedy writers, George W. Bush ate complete shit off a bike during a ride at his Texas ranch last Sunday afternoon. The president spoke for reporters while covered in several comical facial bandages and wearing an arm sling this week to address the topic of his crash, which Bush claims he participated in to prove a point about his increasingly unpopular Iraq policy.
“Even when things don’t go exactly as planned, and you hit a goddamned pothole on the road to liberation, you’ve got to climb back on that nation and ride her home,” Bush declared. Though the vaguely sexual imagery unnerved some, many felt that this was one of the most successful of the president’s many pathetic attempts to save face after an embarrassing mishap.
Many were reminded of the well-publicized shit-eating º the president performed off a Segway human transporter at his father’s summer home last year, happier times for a higher polling president who was then able blame technology for his clod-like behavior. Others were also reminded of a January 2002 incident in which a pretzel got the better of the president during an attempt at eating, ending with Bush’s dramatic tumble into a coffee table. Though that incident shared little in common with the president’s latest tussle with gravity, many still enjoy bringing up the story at the flimsiest pretext.
Bush claims that a rabbit darted out in front of his bike on Sunday, forcing him to heroically swerve onto a treacherous rocky outcropping to avoid going Paperboy on the adorably wayward rodent. Other witnesses claim the president ate shit on smooth pavement after removing one hand from the bicycle’s handlebars to scratch his asshole.
The president was accompanied on the ride by his personal doctor, bicycle riding coach Noel Yongstrem, a Secret Service agent, and some neighborhood kids who tagged along to make fun of the Bush’s lame bike. According to eyewitness reports, Bush’s crash elicited peals of laughter, pointing, and sarcastic clapping from everyone in the group except the unnamed Secret Service agent, who panicked and ran off into the woods, leaving the downed president to fend for himself.
Bush suffered minor abrasions to his chin, upper lip, nose, right hand and both knees in the accident, but the most serious injury was to the president’s pride, White House spokesman Trent Duffy said. Despite the spill, Bush was able to bravely ride the rest of the way home with only minor sniveling and a snotty nose.
Surprisingly, the president sustained his injuries in spite of witness reports that he was wearing a helmet and mouth guard at the time of the accident. White House doctors believe this can be explained by the fact that Bush’s helmet likely came off during the crash, since the straps had been tied in a knot under his chin due to the president’s ongoing difficulty with latches, snaps and buttons.
According to the White House, President Bush has expressed a desire to ride in cars from now on, leaving two-wheeled transportation “to kids and the Chinese.” No word yet on whether or not he’s going to keep up with the helmet and mouth guard. the commune news isn’t one to talk, since the last time we were on a bike we ended up on the COPS Greatest Hits: Wacky Tabacky video. Lil Duncan has never had a notable biking mishap that we’ve heard about, though word is she once fell off a dyke and skinned her knee.
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Lost Leaves Plotlines Half-Solved in Honor of Shooting Victims MySpace to Offer Breaking News on What Ira Mankovics is Doing Right Now Alec Baldwin Records Devastating Voice Mail Message for Shooter Sony’s Poorly Timed “PS3 Price Massacre” Backfires |
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 August 8, 2005
That's NostaligiaI think I finally found my niche in the world. I was watching those VH-1 shows about the '80s and the '70s and all these people talking about cool things. It's the kind of show you watch and you say, "I remember that!" But not me. I had to sell my memories in 1990 or they were going to repossess my apartment, with me in it. The guys who bought them left me the memories of my mom and dad and family, they said those had no resale value, but I can't really remember much of anything else. Which is a shame, because everyone keeps telling me the networks never gave Tales of the Gold Monkey a chance, and that sounds like the kind of show I'd like.
But my niche. Like I said, I found it. I'm going to be the first guy to have '90s nostalgia. I'm even going to copyright it so everyone else has to pay me when they want it. I can do '90s nostalgia. That shit was awesome, as I remember it.
Like remember M.C. Hammer? His pants were big. He always hung out with a lot of guys and jumped around, and sang some of those famous, unforgettable songs. Like the Addams Family one. Like he said, don't touch him, remember? That was awesome. I expect to get $1.50 out of that one, on average.
After that we came up with grunge. I still remember the big bands from those years. Like Joan Osbourne and Dishwalla. They were in-your-face, like punk, but everybody could like them. They said God was a bum and they wanted to hear what you thought, which was cool. I wrote a...
º Last Column: Stupid Heroes º more columns
I think I finally found my niche in the world. I was watching those VH-1 shows about the '80s and the '70s and all these people talking about cool things. It's the kind of show you watch and you say, "I remember that!" But not me. I had to sell my memories in 1990 or they were going to repossess my apartment, with me in it. The guys who bought them left me the memories of my mom and dad and family, they said those had no resale value, but I can't really remember much of anything else. Which is a shame, because everyone keeps telling me the networks never gave Tales of the Gold Monkey a chance, and that sounds like the kind of show I'd like.
But my niche. Like I said, I found it. I'm going to be the first guy to have '90s nostalgia. I'm even going to copyright it so everyone else has to pay me when they want it. I can do '90s nostalgia. That shit was awesome, as I remember it.
Like remember M.C. Hammer? His pants were big. He always hung out with a lot of guys and jumped around, and sang some of those famous, unforgettable songs. Like the Addams Family one. Like he said, don't touch him, remember? That was awesome. I expect to get $1.50 out of that one, on average.
After that we came up with grunge. I still remember the big bands from those years. Like Joan Osbourne and Dishwalla. They were in-your-face, like punk, but everybody could like them. They said God was a bum and they wanted to hear what you thought, which was cool. I wrote a song and sent it to Dishwalla and I guess they had a creative writing block or something because they haven't gotten back to me yet. That's probably worth about $4. $5, if I throw in Tracy Bonham's mom.
They had a ton of cool movies in the '90s, too. Remember Braveheart and Schindler's Lab? I didn't see them but lots of people did. From the box you could tell Mel Gibson had long hair and was a roadie or something. I bet that was cool. He was crazy, wearing that dress and all. And Schindler's Lab was in black and white, judging by the back of the box, so I didn't see it. But it was pretty tempting, because they had those cool Matrix-looking numbers on the front. It was probably an awesome computer movie like Johnny Nemamonic, another kick-ass '90s movie. Which I didn't see. I'll only charge about $1 for all those, since I didn't see them. But reminding other people they saw them should be worth something.
And who could forget the music? But we did that already.
Remember when Chris Farley and Princess Diana were killed in that car crash? That sucked. They were so funny. I'd like to take a long pause to remember them, and charge about $10 for it.
T.V. was completely "fresh" in the '90s, too. I didn't have one, but it was. Sometimes I would watch them at a friend's house, or through the neighbor's window. There were lots of doctor and lawyer shows, because they can afford televisions. What do you think that's worth, about $1.30? Not too much, but something.
Anyway, since I lost my job this will be a nice way to pay the bills. And keep my memories! So consider this an invoice for $18.80. Cash and check are fine, but I can't take credit cards. I'm looking into Paypal. º Last Column: Stupid Heroesº more columns
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|  September 26, 2005
The Truth About DinosaursThanks to an unprecedented number of Jurassic Park sequels, the BBC's "educational" series Walking with Dinosaurs, and countless truly putrid CGI dinosaur DVDs aimed at children, these terrible ugly beasts of yore have never been more popular. However, none of these irresponsible Hollywood types with their sexy and exciting CGI tools will tell you the real secret truth about these terrible beasts: Dinosaurs were boring.
Take for example the Snorasaurus, the most boring dinosaur ever to walk the earth. The Snorasaurus spent his days sitting in the mud, staring straight ahead and giving no indication whatsoever that it was alive or dead. Eventually, the Snorasaurus would evolve into his modern-day cousin, the legendary boring pet the iguana.
Clearly, the public has been sold a bill of goods about dinosaurs and how exciting they supposedly were. Few will tell you the truth about the Disappointadocus, the most overrated dinosaur ever to live, or his cousin, Hypalamus. That doesn't fit into their neat little "dinosaurs were awesome" worldview.
Few dinosaur lovers today would be loving it if they crossed paths with the Australopithasaur, an Aussie dinosaur known for its withering, pithy tone and general bitchy demeanor. This miserable beast was closely related to Cockbastaranus, the "Asshole Lizard" whom annoyed all others and was often killed by other dinosaurs as a matter of principle, in spite of its inedible meat, which was...
º Last Column: Hurricanes are Nature's Douche º more columns
Thanks to an unprecedented number of Jurassic Park sequels, the BBC's "educational" series Walking with Dinosaurs, and countless truly putrid CGI dinosaur DVDs aimed at children, these terrible ugly beasts of yore have never been more popular. However, none of these irresponsible Hollywood types with their sexy and exciting CGI tools will tell you the real secret truth about these terrible beasts: Dinosaurs were boring. Take for example the Snorasaurus, the most boring dinosaur ever to walk the earth. The Snorasaurus spent his days sitting in the mud, staring straight ahead and giving no indication whatsoever that it was alive or dead. Eventually, the Snorasaurus would evolve into his modern-day cousin, the legendary boring pet the iguana. Clearly, the public has been sold a bill of goods about dinosaurs and how exciting they supposedly were. Few will tell you the truth about the Disappointadocus, the most overrated dinosaur ever to live, or his cousin, Hypalamus. That doesn't fit into their neat little "dinosaurs were awesome" worldview. Few dinosaur lovers today would be loving it if they crossed paths with the Australopithasaur, an Aussie dinosaur known for its withering, pithy tone and general bitchy demeanor. This miserable beast was closely related to Cockbastaranus, the "Asshole Lizard" whom annoyed all others and was often killed by other dinosaurs as a matter of principle, in spite of its inedible meat, which was uniformly stringy and bitter. The most famous disappointing dinosaur of all, however, was the Tyrannosaurus Rex, the "Terrible Lizard." And in this case, the name was perfectly fitting, as the Tyrannosaurus was uniformly terrible at hunting, fighting, mating, and all other dinosaur activities. This hapless creature was also known as the biggest pussy in all of nature. In spite of its impressive size and terrifying appearance, the Tyrannosaurus was easily frightened by other dinosaurs, birds, ground squirrels, and the sound of the wind rustling through tree branches. Because of his incredible cowardice, the Tyrannosaurus spent most of his time running away from various threats, real or imagined, and hiding among bushes and shrubberies. These weren't the only miserable dinosaurs of course, as the unfortunate roll call goes on and on. Few scientists care to remember the Oshitodon, a dinosaur known for causing problems it would then blame on other dinosaurs. Most consider this clumsy oaf of nature best left forgotten. Possibly the strangest of the dinosaurs was the Nonudodon, a dinosaur with a paralyzing fear of nudity, which would fashion strange, primitive articles of clothing out of branches, rocks, pelts and the patchwork skins of other dinosaurs. These modest creatures were often only seen at night, foraging on the forest floor for accessories. Despite the claims of a few pissy scientists bent on ruining the fun for everyone else, dinosaurs and early man did in fact coexist, and they threw wild parties. Early man loved nothing more than getting dinosaurs piss drunk on fermented goat milk, and this led directly to early man's nomadic nature, since nobody wanted to hang around camp anymore after the dinosaurs had started barfing all over the place. Dinosaurs did pose a special problem for early man, however, since many early cave-dwellers were trampled by Tyrannosaurus that were running away from threateningly-shaped clouds in the sky. Eventually, early man had to take to traveling around in giant man-sized boots with foot holes cut out of the bottom, knowing dinosaurs would never step in the boots because lizards don't wear shoes. But how did all these dinosaurs get their names? After the discovery of strange reptile fossils in 1857, Sir Edward Albey named the theoretical beasts Agranamapeus, which is Latin for "Ahhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhh! ArrggggaaaaahhhhhhhHh!" Sir Dingus Reily found this name to be accurate, though lacking in social graces, and proposed instead the name dinosaur, Latin for "Lizards so big you'd totally shit." Unfortunately, the names of dinosaurs have often reflected the biases of the scientists doing the discovering, especially in less-enlightened historical times. Case in point is the Beaneramus, a small herbivore once commonly found in the land that is now Mexico. Thankfully, modern-day scientists have taken the liberty to give this beast the more politically-correct name of the Labambadon. Likewise with the Krautosaur of Southern Germany, the bi-curious Fagodon, the McSaurus of Scotland, and the Frogonomin, the French "bird of meat" that once terrified the part of the skies that is located very near to the ground. Now that you know the truth, do a good deed today and spread the disappointing word to all the small children you can find, before they get all carried away. º Last Column: Hurricanes are Nature's Doucheº more columns
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Milestones1979: Some people call Red Bagel a space cowboy (wahnt-waaow). Ignorant to popular culture, Bagel burns his driver's license and spends two years living underground as Miguel Carlos Ferrina.Now HiringSmall Town Rube. Trustworthy innocent needed to flush gremlins out of elevator system. Competitive wage to be paid upon successful completion of duties. No Sci-Fi geeks, please. QVC Top Sellers| 1. | Edible Bacon Sleeping Mask | | 2. | Avocado Clock | | 3. | Big Bag 'o Cubic Zirconiums | | 4. | Electronic Feces Sniffer | | 5. | "Great Jews of the 60's" Trading Card Set | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Red Bagel 2/2/2004 A Fistful of Tannenbaum Chapter 2: Sierra MistEditor's Note: Yeah, like this has been edited. Last time, The thinly-veiled Bagel character Jed Foster met his old acquaintance of some fashion Hans "Two-Bit" Reilly and made an allusion to a coupon for a free backrub. A gun was involved, some macho slogans, and off they went.
By the beginning of the second chapter, Foster and Reilly had found their way to the Sierra mountain range in whatever country it's in. The climb was rigorous and difficult, for Reilly. Perhaps a little bit for Foster as well, but not so much as for Reilly.
"You've made me remember what I liked so much about kicking back in my palatial estate and receiving fellatio from one of the many twentysomething girls in my employee," said Foster with a huff. "Everything."

Editor's Note: Yeah, like this has been edited. Last time, The thinly-veiled Bagel character Jed Foster met his old acquaintance of some fashion Hans "Two-Bit" Reilly and made an allusion to a coupon for a free backrub. A gun was involved, some macho slogans, and off they went.
By the beginning of the second chapter, Foster and Reilly had found their way to the Sierra mountain range in whatever country it's in. The climb was rigorous and difficult, for Reilly. Perhaps a little bit for Foster as well, but not so much as for Reilly.
"You've made me remember what I liked so much about kicking back in my palatial estate and receiving fellatio from one of the many twentysomething girls in my employee," said Foster with a huff. "Everything."
"That's not the Jed Foster I remember," said Reilly, wearing a smile. The Jed Foster he was thinking of had been a car wash attendant in Ojai, California, a black fellow with a magnificent gold cane and a mustache. But this Jed Foster was who he needed to climb the mountain range—to get to the lockbox.
"I thought I'd seen the last of that lockbox twenty years ago," said Foster, picking up the train of thought from the narrative. "Back then I was a young man. Younger."
"That was when you made the promise to Audreybell, as previously mentioned," said Reilly.
Foster thought of Audreybell in descriptive detail. Her bright, teeth-filled smile. Her magnetic green eyes, the orange-tinted hair hanging about her head in long folds. Those monster titties. Her voice was sweet, like a saw ripping through wood, calling his name with love: "Jed! Jed, dear! Pour that tequila down my throat so I don't have to tilt my head forward. I fear I might vomit again."
Sweet, sassy Audreybell. How he cursed her name and memory, those full lips and scratchy beard stubble. How she had made him promise, on her deathbed, after he accidentally mortally wounded her: "The lockbox, Jed. Don't ever forget the birdcage."
"The what? Birdcage?"
"Sorry. I meant to say lockbox."
And he never had. Forgotten, that is. Or did one time, for a very short time, in 1986 during a fabulous hand of cards, but he remembered right after he lost his shirt. How in the name of all that's holy could a straight flush beat a pair of aces—nothing's higher than aces.
"Jed! Watch out!" screamed Reilly in sheer terror.
Foster barely had time to duck Reilly's swung pick axe.
"Just keeping you on your toes," the son of a bitch said. "There's infinite dangers ahead, so many you can count them on two hands. Don't think they left that lockbox unguarded."
The government's most dangerous men. Twelve of them, each more dangerous than the last, unless they were put in order of height or something. Jed took a deep breath and scaled the final cliff.
"There, we've climbed the highest mountain in the entire range," grumbled Jed. "Whew. One heck of an afternoon."
But he didn't get to complain much longer. For ahead of him, in the distance, was a small cabin. Unoccupied, maybe; booby-trapped, definitely. And home to the lockbox.
Next Chapter: Danger Cabin!   |