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Irony Bites President Bush in the Ass

March 18, 2002
Washington, D.C.
Junior Bacon
The president, still not sure he sees what's so funny.
F
ew were surprised when statements made by President Bush last week invited the bite of irony. The president, frequently less observant of irony in his statements than Alanis Morissette in hers, was attacking Zimbabwe president Robert Mugabe for stealing the recent election in his country.

Mugabe's method of election fraud was with open threats to members of the opposing party, Zimbabwe's Movement for Democratic Change party, and discouraging voters from turning out to cast their vote for the opposition. Violence and blatant electioneering were observed around the country, though no evidence of fixing votes themselves has been brought to light.

The situation echoed the 2000 U.S. presidential election so clearly the irony was apparently visible from the outer spac...Read more...


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July 12, 2004

Click for Biography

Lost Vegas

After a voyage that took me to nearly every state in the union, and some I'm still not convinced are legally in, I found my Elvis medicine.

First a long trip to New Hampshire, only to realize the Elvis Graceland is in Memphis, so I headed down that way. I'm sure there was plenty of pharmaceuticals on hand in that huge facility, but the tour guides give you the most morbid look when you ask if you can go through the medicine cabinet. I'm sure the King looks down disapprovingly from his cloud, but he's powerless to help me now.

And that's when I thought of it—Elvis helpers! I've seen them everywhere. Like Santa Claus, they are plentiful and pose as the man himself while going around, doing his bidding, like non-denominational disciples. And like Elvis, of course, Santa Claus also died in a mansion in the 1970s, but his work continues through those noble men. All I had to do was meet up with a faithful Elvis impersonator and I would receive the medicine I so needed! Though actually, the flu that inspired this long trek disappeared somewhere between Ohio and Kentucky, but I was already in motion, no fun to stop the journey.

All I can guess is it must be the off-season, since the Elvis helpers were nowhere in sight. I tried the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the original Sun Studios, and every Hard Rock Café in the nation. I camped out for days in front of Nicolas Cage's house, knowing well his fetish for everything Elvis, but none ever...Read more...


º Last Column: I Too Need Elvis Medicine
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July 8, 2002

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We're Through the Looking Glass, People

I suggest you check your phone for bugs and turn the stereo up loud. At least if you're reading this column out loud to yourself or with friends. Some may say you're crazy for believing the world is more than meets the eye, that the government deceives you every moment of every day, that you host small parties where you get together with friends and read my column aloud. I say if you're crazy, we're all living in a nuthouse. And we're the less crazy "germaphobic" kind of insane and everyone else is the "dog tells you to shoot the president" kind.

We have turned a corner, loyal readers. We've opened a door to a room or a lid to a box that we can't close again. We've stripped the spark plug where we can take it out, but can never put it back in. We've unscrewed the top to the jar and you've gotten peanut butter in my chocolate. We're through the looking glass, people.

Be prepared for anything. Your life may be in jeopardy just for seeing me. Your wheel of fortune is spinning out of control. You've thrown the dice and shouted "Yahtzee!" and the government is listening in. The word of the day is "conspiracy," with a capital "C" and it's right on triple word score, triple letter points.

You're looking in the manhole, Americans, and there's a foul stench coming up. Go ahead. Turn to me with a pinched face and ask, "Damn! You smell that?" I sure do. Someone smelt it who did not dealt it.

We've lifted up the seamy underbelly of...Read more...


º Last Column: Aliens Are Transporting Me from Room to Room
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2000: Ramrod Hurley is hired as a commune correspondent after the failure of his startup internet company, www.poopoftheday.com.
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North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY H.I. Standard
10/13/2003
The Bitcher in the City (Part 2)
As cute as Shelly was she was pretty dumb and just as useless a tool as everyone else, so I thought she should just die already. I told her so, but she didn't think it was as funny as I did. Which was fine because I didn't think it was funny. She and her big fat Army boyfriend Mervin didn't care, though. They just sat there listening to that lame-ass Dixieland Jazz they liked so much and acted like they liked it. It was all stupid posturing. No one could like that dumb music. I don't like it.

Mervin was tapping his hand absently on the stupid table. "You look familiar, kid," he said. He always called me kid, 'cause he was a dick.

"Oh? Stupid."

"Yeah," said Mervin. He was bobbing his head to the stupid music again, like a tool, but he stopped after a...Read more...

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