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3/11/26   
Where the customer is always... riiiiight.
Loves That Woman '; $dunkin='2005/0328/'; $dunkintitle='Highway to Hell'; $edit='2003/1222/'; $fanmail='2005/0516/'; $fanmailtitle='Volume 63'; $finger='2005/0822/'; $fingertitle='To Hell With This Desk'; $fortune='2002/020121/'; $goocher='2005/0711/'; $goochertitle='Gwar of the Worlds'; $hanes='2005/0704/'; $hanestitle='Pink is Not for Men'; $hartwig='2005/0606/'; $hartwigtitle='Parade'; $hooper='2005/0228/'; $hoopertitle='Vernon Hooper’s Fifth Syphilis'; $hurley='2005/0404/'; $hurleytitle='Time of Healing'; $kroeger='2005/0822/'; $kroegertitle='Charity Case'; $loser='2005/0822/'; $losertitle='Lost Leavings'; $ned='2003/0818/'; $nedtitle='Cyantology'; $pickle='2002/020513/'; $pickletitle='State of the Art'; $poet='2005/0704/'; $police='2005/0822/'; $polio='2005/0822/'; $poliotitle='WEASELS-B-GON'; $rent='2005/0829/'; $renttitle='For the Last Time Deidrebane, Those Aren’t the Feds'; $reynolds='2005/0425/'; $reynoldstitle='A Series of Unfortunate Evans'; $hartwig='2004/1206/'; $hartwigtitle='O Captain!'; $sickhead='2004/0419/'; $sickheadtitle='The Legendary Spot of Coco Hobari McSteve'; $ted='2005/0530/'; $tedtitle='The New War on Poverty'; $vanslyke='2005/0606/'; $vanslyketitle='Health Food is Full of Shit'; $zender='2005/0425/'; $zendertitle='The Sixth commune Enthusiasts Club Meeting'; ?>
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

Blake Prosecutor to Jury: Fuck YouMarch 28, 2005
Los Angeles, CA
Junior Bacon
District Attorney Steve Cooley, who keeps calling Ramon Nootles to “hang out” but ends up spending the whole time bitching about juries. It’s always about you, isn’t it, Steve?
C
alling the jurors who acquitted Robert Blake last week “low-grade retards,” District Attorney Steve Cooley’s post-trial sour grapes rose to a level rarely seen in our modern, politically correct era Thursday during a 40-minute interview with reporters. Cooley delivering a rambling, profanity-laden tirade punctuated by “Fuck Yous” personalized for each member of the twelve-person jury, each one more cutting than the last.

“This was an open and shut case,” fumed Cooley. “What did they think, that Blake really forgot his gun in that restaurant exactly at the exact same time somebody decided to shoot his batshit grifter wife in the back of the head? I’ve heard little autistic kids come up with better lies than that. I hope none of those jurors have children, s...Read more...


Search for Bin Laden made into fun scavenger hunt

Some queer wins Wimbledon, says NASCAR fan

Woman leads Muslim prayer service; promptly stones self

1000+ laid-off workers
don't like Sara Lee



April 11, 2005

Click for Biography

My Dear, Your New Children Have Become a Nuisance

My dearest Deidrebane, it pains me acutely to have to write you this column and expose our personal goings-on to the somewhat wider audience of the world at large, but I can't find any of our personal stationary and I'm not about to go tearing up the entire house when the computer is right here.

Simply put and plainly typed, your new children have become a nuisance.

I can only assume these children were adopted by you on one of your recent humanitarian skylarkings, some time while my attention was turned elsewhere, say to the televised gladiatorial matches or to Bolivian chicken racing, whose season is now thrillingly underway. I know you claim these children to be the fruits of your loom, or loins, whatever it is you have down there nowadays, but needless to say, I find this to be horrifyingly implausible. To the best of my knowledge your plumbing has not been snaked in a generation. And word on the street is that things are drier down there than a jerky stand in the Sahara. For the sake of decorum, I shall fail to go into the gruesome details, though believe me when I say the word is out.

I can only imagine how our first wave of real children feel about this latest batch of imposters, suckling at their mother's dry, unproductive teat. Wherever they are, Deidrebane, out in the world making their fortune or spending ours, it is surely a sad day for them. If I could remember their names, I would send my condolences by post card or...Read more...


º Last Column: I Promised to Stop Smoking Crack
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June 9, 2003

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Ape Skills

"It takes a nation of millions just to keep a shitty sitcom on the air."

My dad once told me, "Boy, it takes a smart man to get a job these days. But it takes a good man to…" At that point the dog had gotten firm hold of his throat and I couldn't understand what he was saying anymore, but it was probably something about a good man knowing when to admit he's wrong or something. That dog came out of nowhere, now that I think about it.

Dad was a grease monkey, but he preferred the term "motor-fixin' ape." That was as good as he could talk everyone into calling him anyway. He worked at the garage down the street, fixing in any broken cars they would bring in. Or not fixing them, if they were difficult or took a long time or something. He wasn't crazy. But my dad always used to say, "Son, a man with skills is a man who can…" Something. I don't remember the rest of it. I only heard the full version once or twice, usually some birds would crash into his head or a marmot would leap out of a garbage can and latch onto his goodies like a vise.

It doesn't really matter, because a man with skills is probably a good thing, is what he was meaning, and I don't have any. It's not a big downer to me at all. Some people are good at certain things, while I'm good at not being good at anything. It bothered me when I was little, then I started spending a lot of time in unventilated rooms that were just painted. Now I don't worry about anything....Read more...


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Milestones
1994: Omar Bricks arrested after setting a statue of the Virgin Mary ablaze atop the Ferris wheel at the State Fair. Gets off on a technicality that goes down in legal history as the Proud Mary defense
Now Hiring
Flamenco Dancer. Leggy Latin beauty needed to, well, you know. And dance. Must be disease-free and light on the orthodontia. Garden hose-based qualifications a big plus. Mus- wait. Really? Then what the hell's flamenco?
Top Selling Dog Food Flavors
1.Kibbles 'n Christ
2.Meow'd Mix
3.Low Carb Horse Nuggets
4.Tastes Like Ass Smells
5.Upchuck Wagon
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 V.D. Whistling
8/4/2003
Harvey Potluck and the Sophomore Slump
Upon entering his second year in Hogwash Military Academy and Magic Technical School, Harvey was very relieved to be returned to this place, which had been the source of much pride and happiness during his first best-selling year.

It was peculiar to think he had nearly not made it at all. A mysterious spell and night of binge drinking of hard liquor had caused him to miss his cab ride back to the Academy. The shame of it all! Dimpleturd would not look kindly at all on a second-year wizard being tardy for his first day returned, particularly one who had thus far proven the hero of a quite enjoyable story, such as Harvey Potluck. But fortune was Harvey's this day, as his friend Phil Stalley pulled up alongside his window to offer him a ride. But Harvey was on the second floor of...Read more...

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