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Sancturary for a sick mind
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Raoul Dunkin, Embedded in Paris

March 31, 2003
Paris, France
Commune Art Dept.
Femme Reporter Raoul Dunkin (lower left corner) reports from the savagely snooty premiere city in France.
R
aoul Dunkin, insert your own slanderous insult here, reporting for the commune from Paris, France. Somehow my job is to cover a war in the Middle East, though your guess is as good as mine on how to do so from Paris.

The best explanation for how I landed this assignment is that dullest tool in the drawer Ramrod Hurley, Acting-Editor and possible Bachman-Turner Overdrive member, thought anti-American sentiment runs so high here I'd be ripped apart upon stepping off the plane. Having already sent danger magnet Ivan Nacutcha-whatever to the front lines, this probably seemed like the best option for getting me rubbed out, as I have no doubt the lunatic thinks I'm bucking for his job.

Fortunately for this commune whipping boy, I speak fluent French and my own anti-Am...Read more...


Global warming ruse official resigns; tired of "how's the weather" jokes

Condoleezza Rice refuses to answer Iraq question, takes the physical challenge

AskJeeves.com to know more shit by 30%

MasterCard issued to Donald Trump in hopes of spurring economy



August 4, 2003

Click for Biography

Flaming Pogs & the Partial Robotomy

So I'm down by the movie theater the other day, showing some local kids how to play a game I invented called Pogs on Fire, and you wouldn't believe who I ran into. I won't even make you guess, it was Alvin Reggie. Okay, maybe you might believe it since you probably don't know who in the hell I'm talking about. He could be some guy I see every other day for all you know, so it might not sound all that strange to you. But trust me, it's plenty strange. Unless he was an extra in a crowd scene in some movie without me knowing it, it's pretty safe to say I haven't seen Alvin since the fourth grade.

So that made it strange, even beyond the fact of running into a dude named Alvin at all. Who's still named Alvin these days, anyway? I used to think that was a name specifically partitioned off by the federal government for use by singing chipmunks and the like, kind of like those 555 telephone numbers you see in the movies. Apparently not, which sucks big wet ostrich eggs for Alvin and other chipmunk-named sad sacks out there.

The situation was a bit uncomfortable, as it usually is when you run into someone you've been subconsciously avoiding for twenty years. It probably didn't help that I never liked Alvin at all when we were kids. That guy was so uptight I bet he wiped his ass with a toothpick. I'm not even sure why I hung out with that kid, but you do a lot of strange things when you're in grade school. I didn't like that Dennis the Menace cartoon either...Read more...


º Last Column: Whistler's Motherfucker
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December 20, 2004

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The Election of the Twenty-First Century

Acting Editor's Note: Given that Red Bagel has refused to step outside his office since the November election, and has even stopped sliding articles to us under the door, we have opted to run a previous column of his in this slot. Here is some of Red's on-the-ball coverage of the 2000 presidential race, and we hope it seems as insightful now as it did back when it first ran in the commune then.

George W. Bush will never be president, and I'll tell you why.

For one, and let's call this exhibit A, sir: He's the son of another president, and people didn't like that president all that much. America learned its lesson from John Adams and John Quincy Adams, as well as the two Roosevelts. Having your son be president just doesn't work, it reminds people too much of the king system. The one bright side of electing idiot after idiot is we know we're working our way through the gene pool. Why go back for a dip in the shallow end? We tried the Bush lineage, no geniuses there. Even if the "bad president" gene skips a generation, you think we'd give another Bush four years to prove it? Not happening.

For two, exhibit B, and I don't quite know how to say this delicately: He's a bit monkey-looking. Just a wee bit, with the ears and the beedy eyes, and that big region between his nose and lip. And I swear I've seen him scratch his head with his foot. It was only once, but I did see it.

And third: Al Gore's got way too...Read more...


º Last Column: The Quick Guide to Conspiracies
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Quote of the Day
“The unexamined life is not worth living… so show me your tits already.”

-Sol Crates
Fortune 500 Cookie
Nobody loves you anywhere near as much as your mother, but the bad news is you were adopted and never met her. Your "Most Favored Nathan" status will be revoked this week when a more-favorable Nathan arrives in town. Sorry. Try to start flossing your teeth, crotch and armpits, ASAP. This week's lucky bullets: zingers, greenies, pissmakers, Big Bens, deconstipators, "lead flapjacks," armor-piercing, elephant piercing, Ella Fitzgerald-piercing.


Try again later.
Women Other Than Christina Ricci We Want Chained to Our Radiator
1.Original Wednesday Addams, Lisa Loring
2.Landlady—You spend the night there and tell me it's heating just fine
3.Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen (still count as one)
4.Diana Rigg, circa 1968; or now, what the hell
5.Anybody but that hippie chick protesting for radiator rights I got now
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 Roland McShyster
2/7/2005
Buenos Aires, America. Hope you're all doing as well today as I was yesterday. Today? Not so much. But I wouldn't kick yesterday out of bed for eating crackers. While in it. Bed, that is. Because you can get a lot of crumbs on the sheets and then you're sleeping all night with cracker crumbs poking you in the ass, unless you sleep in pajamas. But still, even this would not sour me on yesterday. Good day.

Today, however, I've got to review the latest ugly orphans Hollywood has dropped off on our Entertainment Policing doorstep in the black of night. You notice they keep the cute ones for themselves. Cute babies referring to good movies, in this in-depth analogy of my creation. Nope, we get the uglies, and the thrill of giving them a quick once-over before selling them to the...Read more...

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