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September 26, 2005 |
Washington, D.C. Chopper Chip Having already successfully survived an emergency landing, Flight 292 makes the mistake of taking off again with its new tires from Firestone. learly delighted to have an offensive position at last, President Bush lashed out at "safety ign'rant" airlines and the FAA for its low-wheel requirements on commercial aircraft. According the president's amusing new platform, safety could be increased a bunchfold with the addition of 8-10 new sets of landing gear on standard airplanes, and hopefully would prevent scenes like the dramatic emergency landing of JetBlue Flight 292 on Thursday.
The commercial airline flight JetBlue 292 ran into difficulty landing when its foremost landing wheel arrogantly faced the wrong direction and forced a tense landing situation. The event was made all the more worthy of national attention when it was revealed passengers/potential victims aboard Flight 292 were watching their own ordeal on sat...
learly delighted to have an offensive position at last, President Bush lashed out at "safety ign'rant" airlines and the FAA for its low-wheel requirements on commercial aircraft. According the president's amusing new platform, safety could be increased a bunchfold with the addition of 8-10 new sets of landing gear on standard airplanes, and hopefully would prevent scenes like the dramatic emergency landing of JetBlue Flight 292 on Thursday. The commercial airline flight JetBlue 292 ran into difficulty landing when its foremost landing wheel arrogantly faced the wrong direction and forced a tense landing situation. The event was made all the more worthy of national attention when it was revealed passengers/potential victims aboard Flight 292 were watching their own ordeal on satellite television, one of the perks the airline offers passengers willing to risk becoming human charcoal on their flights. In the end, the plane landed successful, jetting down the runway covered with foam and emitting sparks in a thrilling scene of real life danger only seen previously on repeats of Jackass. The White House jumped on the story, beginning on Friday with the president's casual comment that the plane would have been a lot safer if it had been a bus, and not quite so high in the air. The peckerwood president had no further comment then, but continued his assault on the airlines Saturday with a slightly more thought-out commentary. "It's a shame the airline industry would risk the lives of so many of its passengers to save a few bucks," said our monkeyesque leader of the free world. When asked to elaborate, the president spared no one. "I say, more wheels. Why not? Put 8 more wheels on them sum'bitches, or what the hell, put 10. Flight 292 was lucky to land on two wheels. I bet those passengers would have had an even better chance for each wheel more you added on that thing." Some critics of the president claim Bush is not rushing to embrace a serious airline issue so much as desperately fleeing the political quagmires of Iraq and failures to respond to recent natural disasters, to which the president says "horsehockey." "I'm a pilot myself," said Bush, stating a half-truth. "Back when I flew a plane, I petitioned my commanding officers all the time for more wheels on Navy jetfighters. Our boys need to be protected from potential crashing disasters, and when you have more to land on, you have a better chance of landing. It's a scientific fact. And if it's not, it sure sounds like one." The airline industry was slow to slapdown the president's criticism, probably out of some gratitude for the huge-ass bailout he approved for them in the post-9/11 environment; but JetBlue, the company who owns the world's most famous plane with muleheaded landing gear, did reject claims its planes were currently unsafe. "Mechanical faults are always an unpleasant reality of the airline industry," said JetBlue spokesperson Chico Rudatti. "We do all we can to make sure our planes are safe before they get into the air, but once they're up there—fuck it, you know? Shit happens. Our pilots are trained to react calmly and with all their skill, and as you can see, they can make the difference between a successful landing and a company-killing crash." Asked if they plan on making any upgrades to their aircrafts in light of recent events, JetBlue did concede it might start using the V-chips in their TV sets to lock out all airline-disaster-related programming on foreign and domestic flights. the commune news watched on the edge of its seat as Flight 292 made its dramatic landing, and we could have used some extra landing gear ourselves when we fell off the edge of our seats. Washington correspondent Lil Duncan has landed on some foam-covered runaways herself, but enough about her weekends in Rio.
 |  Lost Scout Earns Coveted "Distract the National Media" Badge  Stealers Wheel Win Super Bowl, Says Heavily Accented Man Vietnam marks fall of Saigon with Sly Stallone film festival
Today the 10-year anniversary of the death of alterna-rock
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Popular TV Clown Robertson Delivers Weekly Outrageous Banter Terrifying children worldwide with his announcement that not all dogs go to heaven, Christian doorknob Pat Robertson reprised his role this week as America’s favorite amusingly religious guy. Nation’s Three Remaining Liberals Turn to Humor to Survive Arizona Border Patrol Installing Landmines Eminem, Ex-Wife Reunite to Work on New Material |
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 January 7, 2002
Volume 11Dear commune:
Hey, what up? Long time no see, m’man. How’s shit gone down for ya? What you do for New Year’s and all? I was getting down with some tasty honeys. Nothin’ too drastic, I get enough action I ain’t gonna exaggerate it or nothin’. But it was suh-weet! You KNOW I got their digits.
Where you been? Ain’t nobody seen you at the club since Shorty got that clap. Everything cool?
Dennis Warrell St. Louis, MO
Dear Dennis:
Everything’s cool. We had nothing going on for New Year’s. Had some friends over, played board games of all things, just downed some cases of beer and a bottle of wine, watched the ball drop on T.V. Dick Clark still looks like he ain’t aged none, something’s going on with that guy.
It’s all good here, we just ain’t been down with the club scene in a while. It’s getting tired, man. We know you’re gonna give us shit for it, but we just can’t keep on doing the same thing anymore. The girls get younger and younger and dumber and dumber, there ain’t no sport in clubbing anymore. the commune would rather just hang out on the weekend with a nice girl, or just relax and watch T.V. or read a book. But you the man! You keep up the hunt, if you got game in ya. I think we’re hanging up the jersey, though.
What’s up with Shorty? Last time I saw that motherfucker he had this fuck-ugly bitch hanging all on his jock and he was...
º Last Column: Volume 10 º more columns
Dear commune: Hey, what up? Long time no see, m’man. How’s shit gone down for ya? What you do for New Year’s and all? I was getting down with some tasty honeys. Nothin’ too drastic, I get enough action I ain’t gonna exaggerate it or nothin’. But it was suh-weet! You KNOW I got their digits. Where you been? Ain’t nobody seen you at the club since Shorty got that clap. Everything cool? Dennis Warrell St. Louis, MODear Dennis:
Everything’s cool. We had nothing going on for New Year’s. Had some friends over, played board games of all things, just downed some cases of beer and a bottle of wine, watched the ball drop on T.V. Dick Clark still looks like he ain’t aged none, something’s going on with that guy.
It’s all good here, we just ain’t been down with the club scene in a while. It’s getting tired, man. We know you’re gonna give us shit for it, but we just can’t keep on doing the same thing anymore. The girls get younger and younger and dumber and dumber, there ain’t no sport in clubbing anymore. the commune would rather just hang out on the weekend with a nice girl, or just relax and watch T.V. or read a book. But you the man! You keep up the hunt, if you got game in ya. I think we’re hanging up the jersey, though.
What’s up with Shorty? Last time I saw that motherfucker he had this fuck-ugly bitch hanging all on his jock and he was pretending she was fine. I was about ready to swat that bitch, I swear. His standards gone to shit or what? Peace out, man.
the commune
Dear commune: I appreciate the extreme views on your website. Even when I don’t agree with them it’s nice to see people thinking for themselves and asking different questions. It keeps our media fresh and alert, which keeps our system of checks and balances working. I do have one question for the commune: Is all the strong language necessary? It seems to me these are basically public air waves, in a sense, and children and anybody could find the commune and read what’s printed here. I don’t think the essence of what’s being said, the real substance, would change if the language were more fitting for all potential readers. I truly believe that a poor vocabulary is the product of an unimaginative mind. Surely the columnists and feature writers for the commune write better words than the ones they often use? Annette Bustlen Ontario, CanadaDear Annette:
Fuck a yeti, you rusted old Canuck twat.
the commune
Dear commune: I don’t know why I’m choosing to write to you. I’m at my wit’s end and need help. I have a neighbor who plays his stereo way too loud. I hate to think of myself as an old fuddy-duddy, but it really bothers me. He plays the stereo at top decibels all day long, even as late as 10 p.m. at night. I have to work in the morning! Not right now, it’s Saturday night, I just mean through the week when I usually hear the stereo and get upset. What should I do? I hate to be a jerk about it or anything. Darren Hutchins Calder, CaliforniaDear Annette:
Usually straightforward honesty is the best policy for dealing with an unpleasant situation. Confront your neighbor, be unrelenting but understanding and explain to him why the loud stereo is a problem for you. It is important you refuse to give any quarter or show any signs of backing down, often people will try to talk their way out of situations or turn the blame on you. By being polite yet forthright, you should alleviate the problem. Failing all else, you must be firm and contact the police or landlord about the problem, anyone who can enforce a stern rule about disturbing the peace. Sooner or later, with your commitment toward solving the problem, your neighbor will concede and turn his stereo down.
Unless it’s Creedence. Crank that shit till the dial breaks! It rocks, it rocks hard.
the commune Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible low turn out at American professional soccer events. C’mon—it’s soccer, people. What did you expect?º Last Column: Volume 10º more columns
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|  July 7, 2003
Roll On, ColumbiaImagine my dismay when I was driving in the great state of Arkansas earlier this year, the window down and enjoying the smell of oppression, listening to Neil Young's "Heart of Gold" on the radio, when the local newsboy interrupts to tell me the news that the space shuttle Columbia had blown up on its way to landing. I could not have been more infuriated—everyone knows "Heart of Gold" is the best Neil Young song ever. The astronauts would not have been any more expired had they waited another few minutes to give me the news.
Not that I take the death of astronauts lightly. They are the pilgrims of space, without dressing in the stylish black as much. It was a shame, but I have been writing angry, rambling letters to NASA for years advocating the use of weaponry on shuttles, and it was sad that someone had to get killed before they'd realize the wisdom in the suggestions.
Yes, hopefully when they file the official report on the Columbia shuttle disaster, of course blacking out the good parts with ample use of a Sharpie, the one good piece to come out of all this will be the recommendation of equipping future space shuttles with high-tech cannons and other defensive machinations. The fact Columbia was wiped out so efficiently only proves we are getting closer than ever to the alien lifeforms we've been seeking all this time.
I'm the first person here on terrestrial earth to sing the praises of peace, of trying to work out all our...
º Last Column: SARS: Our Middle Finger to China º more columns
Imagine my dismay when I was driving in the great state of Arkansas earlier this year, the window down and enjoying the smell of oppression, listening to Neil Young's "Heart of Gold" on the radio, when the local newsboy interrupts to tell me the news that the space shuttle Columbia had blown up on its way to landing. I could not have been more infuriated—everyone knows "Heart of Gold" is the best Neil Young song ever. The astronauts would not have been any more expired had they waited another few minutes to give me the news.
Not that I take the death of astronauts lightly. They are the pilgrims of space, without dressing in the stylish black as much. It was a shame, but I have been writing angry, rambling letters to NASA for years advocating the use of weaponry on shuttles, and it was sad that someone had to get killed before they'd realize the wisdom in the suggestions.
Yes, hopefully when they file the official report on the Columbia shuttle disaster, of course blacking out the good parts with ample use of a Sharpie, the one good piece to come out of all this will be the recommendation of equipping future space shuttles with high-tech cannons and other defensive machinations. The fact Columbia was wiped out so efficiently only proves we are getting closer than ever to the alien lifeforms we've been seeking all this time.
I'm the first person here on terrestrial earth to sing the praises of peace, of trying to work out all our problems through non-violent means; but these green-blooded bastards have never heard of Gandhi, and non-violence means about as much to them as blassalbe grizzlesnorp means to us. Which is alien for "Whatcha cookin'?" if you must know. Yes, I say if the aliens want some, we bring it. Bring it hard.
Laser weapons are effective, true, but mighty costly and really only more visually fun to look at, not any strategic value. It is plain to the most uninformed observer, as I have observed, that laser weapons as used by the unidentified aliens, were used to some effect while Columbia was in space to wound the shuttle so mortally it wouldn't survive the return trip. But if these fancy pants think our weapons don't have enough pop to show them a thing or two, let's show them how it's done down here.
Traditional repeating firearms are more than enough for these pricks. Ample streams of gunfire will make our point quite nicely, and the fact you don't see a neon stream of green hurtling toward you gives you, as an alien, less chance to move out of the way. The real cool thing about space, should we engage in orbital dogfights, which I'm excited enough about prospecting to wet myself, is that with no friction in space and very little in the way of safe cover, these bullets will go on until they hit something, somewhere. Aliens can't outrun them! And even if they did, the things would keep coming, slow and steady, like the tortoise following the hare. Only this tortoise turns alien flesh into sloppy joe meat.
It goes without saying, until I say it, our first intentions should be to get on friendly terms with these aliens. No doubt they can help us with their endless advanced technology in areas of space travel and medicine and convincing an entire species to wear the same outfits. And we can help them become more profit-oriented and learn to argue amongst themselves.
But, just to make it clear, don't let them think we're pushovers. A size 10 shoe leaves a mighty big footprint on gray alien ass. º Last Column: SARS: Our Middle Finger to Chinaº more columns
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Milestones131 B.C.: Roman inventor Pontius creates love accidentally while trying to come up with a perfume that staves off homosexuality. Anyone who disagrees, we invite them to tell us who created love then.Now HiringBarber. Staff barber sought to keep heads neat and trim, faces clean shaven, and reduce hippieness by at least 30%. Own scissors and weird Vitalis smell a plus. Controversial "tell-it-like-it-is" barbers need not apply.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | Are You Radioactive? Take Our Quiz | | 2. | Uncle Macho's Edible Lunch Bucket | | 3. | We All Live in a Yellow Sub-Basement Apartment | | 4. | Angels: Assholes in Disguise? | | 5. | Never Have Sex Again | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Violet Tiara 5/27/2002 Dinner DateSwizzle-stick me in a jar,
mastodons in foreign cars.
Oh what lovely
buggering bubbly
sex shows on starships tonight!
Chew up those rancid tulips
like I know you want to, Stone Phillips.
Belching out butterflies,
watching them flutter by,
gastric delights hued in blue.
Don't be so dumb,
dressed up and down in that bubblegum.
Don't you know you're the queen?
Practical jokes are so mean.
My lady you drink like a whore.
Rubber wigs are low-fuss.
Parsley sprigs condemn us.
Slap on that wig
and shit out a fig,
see if they won't now get us a table!
Stone Phillips, the queen and me,
dancing on MTV.
Dining on the finest

Swizzle-stick me in a jar,
mastodons in foreign cars.
Oh what lovely
buggering bubbly
sex shows on starships tonight!
Chew up those rancid tulips
like I know you want to, Stone Phillips.
Belching out butterflies,
watching them flutter by,
gastric delights hued in blue.
Don't be so dumb,
dressed up and down in that bubblegum.
Don't you know you're the queen?
Practical jokes are so mean.
My lady you drink like a whore.
Rubber wigs are low-fuss.
Parsley sprigs condemn us.
Slap on that wig
and shit out a fig,
see if they won't now get us a table!
Stone Phillips, the queen and me,
dancing on MTV.
Dining on the finest
low-calorie vaginas
this posh restaurant can provide us.
Laughing whenever we see
the bluebirds of jealousy.
Asking a Yeti
with a ceramic machete
to kindly pass the spicy mustards.
The creature, a teacher, a pig and the pope
sang a song all about their plans to elope.
And with a loud blast
the ballroom was gassed
(and though it was passed)
I don't think that was spicy mustard.   |