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MSNBC's Chris Matthews Undergoes More SurgeryFebruary 18, 2002 |
Dickbrain, MD Courtesy MSNBC Chris Matthews, either post- or pre-surgery
"The problem starts with his kissing the president's ass," chief surgeon Jerome Splay told reporters. "He's just such an enthusiastic ass-kisser. He gets all up in there, you know, and he never knows when to quit."
Asked how long this had been going on, Dr. Splay responded, "It all started about the middle of September. Before that, the only thing we ever saw Chris in here for was over-inhalation of helium. He's got that ...
yndicated newspaper columnist and host of MSNBC's Hardball Christopher Matthews was reported to be resting comfortably following three hours of surgery to remove excess fecal matter from his nose, lips and cheeks yesterday. Doctors at Walter Reed Memorial Hospital confirmed that this was the fifth such procedure in just the last two weeks.
"The problem starts with his kissing the president's ass," chief surgeon Jerome Splay told reporters. "He's just such an enthusiastic ass-kisser. He gets all up in there, you know, and he never knows when to quit."
Asked how long this had been going on, Dr. Splay responded, "It all started about the middle of September. Before that, the only thing we ever saw Chris in here for was over-inhalation of helium. He's got that voice that, when he gets excited, only dogs can hear him, you know what I mean? High. He's a high-talker. Well, he doesn't come by that naturally. It takes tanks and tanks of helium to get his voice up into that register, and sometimes he just overdoes it."
He went on to say that the recent surgeries were "all just since September, and they've been getting more and more frequent. In fact, if you recall that so-called pretzel incident with the president, that was actually the worst one of all. The truth of the matter is, that was no pretzel that was lodged in the president's throat. That was Chris's tongue. He had worked it all the way up through the alimentary canal, up through his stomach, and had gotten it lodged in the president's esophagus, which is what caused him to black out. That was one big mess, I'll tell you!"
"Of course," Dr. Splay added with a chuckle, "Chris's case is nothing compared to those Fox News guys. We must do five or six fecalectomies a week for each one of them. O'Reilly and Hannity are the worst. I mean, you should see the poundage of stuff we take off of them nearly every day. The other doctors and I were joking recently that we should start our own fertilizer business on the side. Heh, maybe we should change the name of this place to Bandini Memorial!"
Mr. Matthews was unavailable for comment. His lips moved, but no sound came out. A number of nearby dogs began barking furiously, however, so it's possible that he was actually saying something, though not of any consequence. the commune news has been a bit testy and edgy lately, so just watch yourself, Buster. Boner Cunningham has been in a pretty decent mood himself, he just enjoys calling people "Buster."
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Tree farmers plagued by "mad log" disease
Condoleezza Rice refuses to answer Iraq question, takes the physical challenge
Dow drops low enough to stare up Mickey Rooney's ass, says stock dude
Derby winner stripped of prize when revealed as man in horse costume
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‘Black Friday’ Sales Slow; Black People Blamed he nation’s African-American community had to bear another injustice over the weekend as it was revealed the sales on their own personal super-saving shopping event, “Black Friday,” were moderate at best. Undoubtedly, the responsibility for the lower-than-projected sales will fall squarely on the shoulders of the black community. “Sales were not as high as initially expected,” announced economical tool and white person spokesperson Neil Van Hurst of Columbia University’s School of Business. “This is owed mostly to continuing downward spending trends in recent holiday seasons.” And its all the fault of black people, Van Hurst all but said. Child Left Behind recent round of standardized DMAS testing in America’s elementary schools has revealed that in spite of President Bush’s ambitious “No Child Left Behind” education policy, at least one American child has been left way the fuck behind. “I don’t like schoolin’,” explained eight-year-old Topeka, Kansas boy Rodney Camaro, exhibiting numerous symptoms of left-behindedness, including messy, uncombed hair, untied shoelaces, a poor vocabulary and a fondness for pro wrestling. Camaro was brought to the attention of education officials earlier this week when test results revealed that someone had actually scored a zero on last month’s DMAS, a feat previously thought mathematically impossible. Serial Killer’s Neighbor: “He just wouldn’t shut up about serial killing.” R.C. Car Enthusiasts Angered by Latest Mars Mission Snub |
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 March 31, 2003
Volume 39Dear commune:
Chuck Weinert writing in to say that I crap bigger than you. I mean that literally and it’s a serious problem in my life. I’ve gone through three divorces and countless trailer homes because of this problem, and I’ve been blacklisted by the local plumbers’ union. You may think I’m joking, but right now I’ve got a crap on deck that would cripple a lesser man.
No one can say when this problem started, and doctors have been hesitant to investigate for fear of losing expensive medical equipment. I don’t know what exactly I expect the commune to do about this, but my guru suggested that it might make me feel better if I could share my plight with others. So there you go.
Chuck Weinert
Toebush, VA
Dear Chuck:
Thank you for sharing your fascinating story with our readers and staff, who are one and the same. We hope that this helps you in your journey through life. However, our guru tells us that discussing the matter further would run the risk of crapping up our Chi, and we can’t risk that since the results from our most recent chakraoscopy were not entirely encouraging.
the...
º Last Column: Volume 38
º more columns
Dear commune: Chuck Weinert writing in to say that I crap bigger than you. I mean that literally and it’s a serious problem in my life. I’ve gone through three divorces and countless trailer homes because of this problem, and I’ve been blacklisted by the local plumbers’ union. You may think I’m joking, but right now I’ve got a crap on deck that would cripple a lesser man. No one can say when this problem started, and doctors have been hesitant to investigate for fear of losing expensive medical equipment. I don’t know what exactly I expect the commune to do about this, but my guru suggested that it might make me feel better if I could share my plight with others. So there you go. Chuck Weinert
Toebush, VA Dear Chuck:
Thank you for sharing your fascinating story with our readers and staff, who are one and the same. We hope that this helps you in your journey through life. However, our guru tells us that discussing the matter further would run the risk of crapping up our Chi, and we can’t risk that since the results from our most recent chakraoscopy were not entirely encouraging.
the commune
Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for your dull, oafish eyes or the glacial pace at which you react to life stimuli. Which is why it is so easy for us to make light of your behavior, delightfully free from feelings of guilt.º Last Column: Volume 38º more columns
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|  March 17, 2003
Hello Secret ValentineOkay, time to fess it up. Who is Boris secret Valentine?
Is Louis? Not thinking so. Louis only give Valentine to hooker and Louis mother.
Is Bagel Red? Still not thinking so. Bagel Red only love money and Sesame Streets.
So who is Valentine? Ah, is secret. From picture Boris think Valentine is small person, like Webster. This is Boris hunch. Secret Valentine is fun game, no?
Yes! Silly question.
Boris is smiling when secret Valentine send "peek-my-boo" cards. How nice to think of Boris! Cards says "Have you seen me?" with picture. Not yet, secret Valentine! But soon?
Speaking when honest, Boris think secret Valentine not so smart. Underneath picture is name, age, and how tall. Woops! Not so good secret when Boris know how tall is Valentine.
But still, who is complaining? Not Boris isn't. No, not that waste of time for Boris. Instead, Boris walking around town to find Valentine very much. Asking all persons who has four feet and six inch if they are Valentine. Is hard work! Not so many persons wanting to hold still for measuring stick. Boris understand, some persons in hurry or already has Valentine.
"But Boris!" is what you are thinking. "Do not you have fiancée person to be Valentine?" No, no, sorry friends. Fiancée person with leopard pants leave Boris goodbye. She go to meet friend John and do magic trick and never come back to Boris. Sad, yes. But as...
º Last Column: Boguslaw Sadowski
º more columns
Okay, time to fess it up. Who is Boris secret Valentine?
Is Louis? Not thinking so. Louis only give Valentine to hooker and Louis mother.
Is Bagel Red? Still not thinking so. Bagel Red only love money and Sesame Streets.
So who is Valentine? Ah, is secret. From picture Boris think Valentine is small person, like Webster. This is Boris hunch. Secret Valentine is fun game, no?
Yes! Silly question.
Boris is smiling when secret Valentine send "peek-my-boo" cards. How nice to think of Boris! Cards says "Have you seen me?" with picture. Not yet, secret Valentine! But soon?
Speaking when honest, Boris think secret Valentine not so smart. Underneath picture is name, age, and how tall. Woops! Not so good secret when Boris know how tall is Valentine.
But still, who is complaining? Not Boris isn't. No, not that waste of time for Boris. Instead, Boris walking around town to find Valentine very much. Asking all persons who has four feet and six inch if they are Valentine. Is hard work! Not so many persons wanting to hold still for measuring stick. Boris understand, some persons in hurry or already has Valentine.
"But Boris!" is what you are thinking. "Do not you have fiancée person to be Valentine?" No, no, sorry friends. Fiancée person with leopard pants leave Boris goodbye. She go to meet friend John and do magic trick and never come back to Boris. Sad, yes. But as Louis say there is lots of bitches to go fishing.
And now Boris steps on sunshine because there is secret Valentine! Such happy thing, yes. Valentine in America is much better from Valentine in Homeland. In Homeland, man come to door with gun and yelling "I kill Boris who knock up sister of me!" What shit is that Valentine, no?
No, in Homeland is not romance like America. There is all about marry teenage girl just because she has little Boris in belly. Boring says Boris! In America is all about find love at end of magic movie with beautiful girl who is not talking too much. Yay for America!
So Boris is looking all over for Valentine, at hardware store and down by river. Louis say to look in dressing room at bikini store, lots of womens there. Louis also say look in yellow book for escort service, but Boris think secret Valentine is too small for driving. Maybe with blocks tied on shoes, or small size car which runs on battery. But blocks make it hard for Valentine to go dancing, so Boris think maybe she is not in yellow book. Maybe Boris will check at store for stilts!
Yes, yes. Boris will go to stilt store to buy stilts. Then when secret Valentine sees Boris on stilts, and secret Valentine is on stilts, it will be romance like magic circus movie. Yay for Boris idea! º Last Column: Boguslaw Sadowskiº more columns
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Milestones1999: Rok Finger's highly offensive rendition of "White Christmas" marks the end of the commune's yearly Christmas parties, and the birth of the Parents Against Rok Finger Coalition (PARF).Now HiringRubik. Crazy puzzle-making hermit needed to devise a way to keep staff out of Red Bagel's mini-fridge. Knowledge of trap doors and spinning blades a plus.Top-Selling Music Substitutes| 1. | Bass Drone 2002 Mega-Mix
DaDawg Productions | | 2. | Voices from the Shithouse
Roy D. Mercer | | 3. | This is MeĂ– Then
J-Lo | | 4. | Faces of Prank-Call Death
Mickey & Marky | | 5. | Healing Your Inner Loser, Tape 3
Harold Bloomfield | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Ferdinand Gaybeard 8/22/2005 The Adventures of Ferdinand GaybeardNever make eye contact with a bird of prey.
This, my friend, shall keep you alive far longer, and net you more friends indeed, than any other nugget of advice I can charitably pass on to you today.
For on the open plain, in the jungle or prairie, or even inside a genteel pet store on a sunny Sunday afternoon, the bird of prey remains a deadly foe, and an adversary not to be taken lightly.
Take for example, the seemingly-innocuous cockatiel. Child’s pet indeed! Alas, only if you fancy coming home to find your child dead upon the floor in a haphazard rigor-mortised pose, skull cavity already hollowed out to make a dwelling cave for this deceptively adorable assassin! Around the globe have I been, three times in fact, and seldom have I crossed the path of a...
Never make eye contact with a bird of prey. This, my friend, shall keep you alive far longer, and net you more friends indeed, than any other nugget of advice I can charitably pass on to you today. For on the open plain, in the jungle or prairie, or even inside a genteel pet store on a sunny Sunday afternoon, the bird of prey remains a deadly foe, and an adversary not to be taken lightly. Take for example, the seemingly-innocuous cockatiel. Child’s pet indeed! Alas, only if you fancy coming home to find your child dead upon the floor in a haphazard rigor-mortised pose, skull cavity already hollowed out to make a dwelling cave for this deceptively adorable assassin! Around the globe have I been, three times in fact, and seldom have I crossed the path of a more cunning dealer of death than the cockatiel. However, sleep not well thinking the cockatiel your heart’s darkest bane my friend, for if my remembrances serve me rightly, there was in fact still one bird of prey even more lethal, which once lurked in the dark corners of the world, honing its pestilent skills of macabre ruination before the right-thinking empires of the world joined in unison to rid the globe of this ruthless black magician. The dodo. So feared was the dodo in its heyday that entire continents were left off maps due to its presence there, these blanks on the parchment marked only with a menacing doodle of said bird, warding off all but the most foolish of explorers, and, yours truly. For I did once come eye-to-eye with this chilling wizard of doom, this stalking, slinking puppetmaster of fate and ruination. Forging my way through the dark back forests of Botswana, machete in one hand and crucifix in the other, searching out the mythical fountain of youth dreamt of by Ponce De Leon and the free public bathroom yearned for by my overstretched bladder, I was ambushed by a lone, alacritous death-bird as it crept up from behind and brushed by my naked calf in the deadness of the night. "Montezuma!" I shouted, and the word echoed off the high tree tops and the canyon below, which I might not have known was there had I not screamed right then, so in a way it was a good thing. All but three of the hairs on my body stood at rapt attention as the dodo stepped into the light and spread its doomful, apocalyptic plumage. My bladder let go wetly and all the blood in my veins changed direction as I realized I had just locked eyes with the world’s most deadly predator. Glowing in the dark like twin cigarettes of doom, the dodo’s eyes met mine with a stare that would sterilize a bull, and its fangs descended. I josh you not, faithful reader, this bird had fangs! Long, menacing, poison-tipped fangs full of peril and pain, curved like the reaper’s blade and pointy like a phonograph needle. My heart dropped into my scrotum like an overstuffed purse as the dodo cocked its head and took an ominous step back. The bird’s horrible, atheist-making eyes glowed more intensely as it stepped back again, preparing to make a run at my huge, vulnerable jugular, hidden behind only a paper-thin sheath of skin and panic sweat. The dodo stepped back again. And then it was gone. I’m not even kidding; the stupid thing backed right off the cliff! It screamed a sperm-shearing scream as it tumbled into the blackness, and I thanked my fortunate stars that I would live to adventure for another day: older, wiser, and completely numb below the waist! For more of this grippingly antiquated story, buy Ferdinand Gaybeard’s
The Adventures of Ferdinand Gaybeard   |
