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May 2, 2011 |
Washington, D.C. Courtesy Arista Records The formerly-alive bin Laden, seen here on the cover of his debut album, 1974's She's Having My Baby resident Obama issued a press conference Sunday night announcing that U.S. public enemy number one and Beard Club for Men Founder Osama bin Laden had been killed during a daring pre-dawn raid on his secret Pakistani lair. Paranoid assholes are awaiting confirmation of this story from a more-reliable source than our nation's leader, who they still claim was born into a family of birth certificate forging criminals in Manila. Early accounts of the raid are sketchy and entertainingly contradictory. Indications that bin Laden used his wife as a human shield while firing at Navy Seals and spitting out delicious badass puns were countered by later reports that bin Laden only cried like a woman when captured, and the shaky helmet-cam footage of the raid just reminded White House staf...
resident Obama issued a press conference Sunday night announcing that U.S. public enemy number one and Beard Club for Men Founder Osama bin Laden had been killed during a daring pre-dawn raid on his secret Pakistani lair. Paranoid assholes are awaiting confirmation of this story from a more-reliable source than our nation's leader, who they still claim was born into a family of birth certificate forging criminals in Manila. Early accounts of the raid are sketchy and entertainingly contradictory. Indications that bin Laden used his wife as a human shield while firing at Navy Seals and spitting out delicious badass puns were countered by later reports that bin Laden only cried like a woman when captured, and the shaky helmet-cam footage of the raid just reminded White House staffers of the FX police drama The Shield. The White House's early leaks that bin Laden was killed by Matt Damon and Christian Bale were also contradicted by later news that the two Hollywood stars only assisted in the top-secret mission. Early indications are that bin Laden had spent the last several years keeping it real in his million-dollar compound outside the Pakistani city of⌠look, like you know any cities in Pakistan. We could just make up a name and you'd have no idea. Anyway, acting on tips received from watching a re-run of 24, CIA operatives located bin Laden's most trusted courier in Pakistan and shadowed him to bin Laden's shadowy compound. Accounts differ on how trusted this courier, a local DHL employee, actually was. Some paint him as bin Laden's bro, a Muslim term denoting a sidekick or wingman, while others claim bin Laden just held a grudge against UPS ever since they lost a package of desperately-needed beard dye he was having delivered to Tora Bora in 2001. Former President Bush, upon hearing the news of bin Laden's capture, reportedly destroyed his West Texas bedroom in a fit of rage and kicked the Bush family cat, Snickers, a record distance of eleven meters. The conversion of meters to feet was not available as of press time. Records indicate Bush had spent most of this two terms of presidency preparing for that moment, and sources close to the former president claim he had practiced his speech for the event in the bathroom mirror literally hundreds of times. The speech, known to those close to Bush as the "Gotcha, Sucka!" speech, was reportedly heavy on gloating and peppered with Bush's favorite quotes from the Clint Eastwood western Unforgiven. Those close to the former president also claim the speech included a quote from Bye Bye Birdie but that no one understood why Bush threw that in. News of bin Laden's death was greeted by throngs of Americans chanting "U-S-H! U-S-H!" in front of the White House, until corrected by a nearby tour guide. The amended chants of "U-S-A! U-S-A!" were allegedly so vigorous as to knock down the fence in front of the White House. Skeptics, however, counter that an obese family of tourists visiting from Indiana had taken a break from chanting and leaned against the fence moments before it collapsed. The nation's four liberals were more circumspect about bin Laden's death, but their comments were drowned out by impromptu chants of "U-N-A! U-N-A!" and the incessant bleating of air horns. the commune news knew where bin Laden was the entire time, we just didn't realize we were the only ones watching MTV's Cribs. Raoul Dunkin is a man's man in a hyperintelligent ape's world.
| June 18, 2007 |
Los Angeles, CA Junior Bacon Hilton is seen here exiting the detention center and getting mentally psyched up for a new career as a nineteenth century pub boxer. he early run of hotel heiress and all around well respected young lady Paris Hitonâs highly-anticipated new series The Simple Life: Century Regional Detention Center hit an unexpected blip this week, with Hilton walking off the set of this groundbreaking new creative enterprise. A Hitlon spokesperson cited âcreative differencesâ between Hilton and the detention center officials who are producing the show in conjunction with the Los Angeles County courts.
âWhen I heard the courts had ordered 23 episodes, I knew this was going to be a big hit,â explained media buttsniff Margo Philsbury. âTalk about a fish out of water! Previous seasons of The Simple Life really failed to go for the gusto like this one did. I mean, Paris Hilton? In jail? Can you just imagi...
he early run of hotel heiress and all around well respected young lady Paris Hitonâs highly-anticipated new series The Simple Life: Century Regional Detention Center hit an unexpected blip this week, with Hilton walking off the set of this groundbreaking new creative enterprise. A Hitlon spokesperson cited âcreative differencesâ between Hilton and the detention center officials who are producing the show in conjunction with the Los Angeles County courts. âWhen I heard the courts had ordered 23 episodes, I knew this was going to be a big hit,â explained media buttsniff Margo Philsbury. âTalk about a fish out of water! Previous seasons of The Simple Life really failed to go for the gusto like this one did. I mean, Paris Hilton? In jail? Can you just imagine it?â âCâmon, sheâs so pretty. Sheâs like a princess,â explained Sheriff Lee Baca, who facilitated Hiltonâs temporary departure from the show. âOr whatever they call it. Hostess? Heiress? Celebutante? Is that a real world now? You donât put people like that in jail. Then all the kids would want to go to jail, theyâd be skateboarding in public and carjacking and shit just to get in and live the glamorous life of an inmate like Miss Hilton.â The publicâs anticipation of the new series was sky-high leading up to its June 3rd debut, with MTV Video Awards host Sarah Silverman devoting a sizeable portion of her opening monologue to wishing the hotel heiress well in her latest endeavor. Audience members, however, couldnât tell if Silverman was being ironic or post-ironic, also known as âsincere.â Meanwhile, rumors abounded that Simple Life co-star Nicole Richie was working on a heroin possession deal to possibly continue the series without Hiltonâs involvement. âI heard they wanted Paris to eat this grody food, like she was in prison or something,â jawed Hilton friend and fellow What-The-Fuck-Are-You-Famous-For celebrity Richie. âAnd she was like âno wayâ and they were like âyou weigh 75 pounds, youâre gonna die if you donât eatâ and she was like âIâd rather die than eat chicken fried steak, gross!â and they were like âokay you can go home.ââ Hilton had landed the deal for the new series after wowing audiences with her performance last September, when a drunken Hilton was pulled over for weaving like an African-American hairdresser and reportedly told the police it was only because all sheâd had for dinner was a martini. Other guest appearances in January and February cemented her position as Americaâs favorite excuse to not pay attention to Iraq, leading to a new deal for the showâs unexpected sixth season. Hotel maids, restaurant owners and taxi cab drivers alike applauded the move, hoping it would mean Hilton would stop pissing everywhere. Disaster was averted on Friday, when Hilton acceded to the producersâ demands that she honor her contract, returning to the set in a spirited mood, boisterously vocal about her enthusiasm for the project. The showâs production was immediately resumed, thrilling fans of lesbian shower scenes and mind-numbing rot the world over. the commune news is not responsible for Paris Hilton. the commune news is not responsible for Paris Hilton. the commune news is not responsible for Paris Hilton. Ivana Folger-Balzac could teach the heiress a thing or two about avoiding jail time, but still lags a distant third to Hilton and that chick who invented the headache excuse among the nationâs most-hated women. Give it a year though, we here at the commune really believe in Ivana.
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May 30, 2011 Thank God For Osama Ben LadenOriginally Published in Wah Wah Adult Menâs Magazine, October 1990 issue A Note From Emil: For all you true commune addicts out there like me, I discovered something fantastic! As you probably know, columnist Rok Finger has had a long and storied career in publishing even before he became a commune stapleâso I was delighted to find a stack of old Fingers in a collection of my neighborâs old Wah Wah Adult Menâs Magazines. Apparently he wrote there for quite some time. So sit back and satisfy yourself with old Finger. I canât wait to read it myself⌠it looked surprisingly current, but Iâm saving it to read once itâs in print.
Good gentlemen and ladies who read Wah Wah, Iâd like you to take a break from your intense visual arousal long enough to talk politics, specifically, the Middle East. You may think everything in the...
º Last Column: Lobbying for the 368-Day Weekend º more columns
A Note From Emil: For all you true commune addicts out there like me, I discovered something fantastic! As you probably know, columnist Rok Finger has had a long and storied career in publishing even before he became a commune stapleâso I was delighted to find a stack of old Fingers in a collection of my neighborâs old Wah Wah Adult Menâs Magazines. Apparently he wrote there for quite some time. So sit back and satisfy yourself with old Finger. I canât wait to read it myself⌠it looked surprisingly current, but Iâm saving it to read once itâs in print.
Good gentlemen and ladies who read Wah Wah, Iâd like you to take a break from your intense visual arousal long enough to talk politics, specifically, the Middle East. You may think everything in the Middle East is terrorists and jihads at this point, but Iâd like to assure you weâre in good hands: The hands of a young man named Osama Ben Laden.
Who? You may not know that name, but you certainly should. While other young Muslims are running around strapping bombs to themselves and charging as much as $10 a barrel for oil, Osama Ben Laden and men like him are making the Middle East safe for democracy.
For ten years, Ben, as I like to call him, and other faithful Muslims have been fighting against the deadliest threat ever known to America: the communist Soviet Union. Their good soldiering and guerilla tactics have made Afghanistan a most unwelcome home for the Russkies, and finally, in February 1989, week-kneed smilinâ Red Mikhail Gorbachev pulled the last one of this commies from Afghanistan. Lesson learned: It may take you a long time, but the most earnest and well-trained army can bring down the biggest enemy!
We Americans should be extra proud, because thanks to Presidents Reagan and Carter, Operation: Cyclone helped train these proud sons of the Arab world. Thatâs our tax dollars bringing us safety in the Middle East for generations to come. It would have been easy to finance the less extremist groups, or even send our own troops in to stand up for our interests, but as the old adage goes, do you want it done right or do you want it done quickly? As Americans know, thereâs only one answer to that.
I met up with Ben and some of his buddies after a late-night meeting of their elite gentlemenâs club, and I found him quite a surprise, even for a Middle Eastern commie-killer. For one thing, heâs not like any Joe Muhammad off the streetâheâs not even from Afghanistan, but from Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. That makes no never mind to Ben: "You canât sit back and watch an infidel disgrace a fellow Islamic stronghold. Do you mind getting your feet off my Quran?"
Heâs right, and I did. More than that, olâ Ben is the son of a billionaire! Thatâs right, he comes from big oil money, and thereâs few bigger than Mohammed Ben Laden where Ben comes from, the U.S.-friendly country of Saudi Arabia. His dad was worth $5 billion, at least before he died in 1967 in a plane piloted by an American. Just think about that: Hereâs a guy who has every reason to hate Americans, but heâs fighting for our side. You gotta admire that.
Instead of wasting away his multi-million dollar inheritance on fast cars and publishing adult magazines, Ben put his talents to learning the art of justified war, and his money to training fellow soldiers. But never forget a lot more money comes from us, champs!
When I sat down to talk with Ben, he was a very imposing figure, standing at 6â4" (almost twice my height) and weighing in at a solid 102 lbs. You wouldnât want to see that coming at you across a battlefield. He expressed his fondness for having several wives and Wah Wah magazine, particularly articles like "What Do You Get With Too Much Tit?" and their annual Vintage Anal issue.
Asked what he thinks of America, he smiled coyly. "How could you not like a country where everything is owned by the Jew and women in bikinis are made CEOs?" I couldnât agree more. Iâm not sure which Jew heâs talking about, Iâll have to ask my contact Saul Bergoweitz if he knows anything. I also wouldnât mind finding out more about this bikini CEO.
So hear that, Saddam Hussein: Your invasion of Kuwait has no friend in Osama Ben Laden. Better watch your step, or youâll find yourself on the wrong end of that Russian-made assault rifle.
I had to leave Ben, and thanked him for our interview with some backissues of Wah Wah and other dirty magazines I used purely for research purposes. I also helped feed his interest in American architecture by supplying the pictures he requested of the World Trade Center buildings. I was anxious to get back home to my longstanding wife, Arvelyn, and see what she looked like in a burqa.
But for those of you terrified of a war with Saddam Husseinâs boys, let me ease your minds: We have nothing to fear from Iraq as long as boys like Osama Ben Laden are in the Middle East. º Last Column: Lobbying for the 368-Day Weekendº more columns |
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Milestones1994: 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 defenseNow HiringFlamenco 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 Reasons Why You Couldn't Have Killed Your Dead Wife1. | What, and miss the prime Christmas Eve fishing season? | 2. | Too busy having extramarital affair to plot murder | 3. | Pregnant wife-killing totally against religion | 4. | Ha. I wish! | 5. | Spirit too crushed from living with soulless bitch for years | |
| Democrats Celebrate Iraq Funding Bill Reverse-VictoryBY v.d. whistling 5/21/2007 Harvey Potluck and the Canadian Mystery DollarThings had come to an abrupt end the previous year for Harvey Potluck, when he failed to complete his third year at Hogwash Military Academy and Magic Technical School when early sales projections failed to help motivate the book's completion. But since it was published and made a substantial windfall for its publishing house, Harvey decided to return to Hogwash for his fourth year.
He was excited to find himself in the company of his best friends Phil and Persephone as soon as he entered school grounds. The girl threw her arms around him as Phil gave him a very boy-friendly "high five."
"Oh, Harvey! I worried about you so when your last chapter ended with no resolution at all to the plot!" she exclaimed.
"Yes. It's good thing I thought to use the trappin...
Things had come to an abrupt end the previous year for Harvey Potluck, when he failed to complete his third year at Hogwash Military Academy and Magic Technical School when early sales projections failed to help motivate the book's completion. But since it was published and made a substantial windfall for its publishing house, Harvey decided to return to Hogwash for his fourth year. He was excited to find himself in the company of his best friends Phil and Persephone as soon as he entered school grounds. The girl threw her arms around him as Phil gave him a very boy-friendly "high five." "Oh, Harvey! I worried about you so when your last chapter ended with no resolution at all to the plot!" she exclaimed. "Yes. It's good thing I thought to use the trapping spell to imprison the Wish Bitch forever in her own suitcase," Harvey quickly expositioned. "But still, it's good to see you all again. I even miss Bathton Bullwark, my arch-nemesis." "Ugh. Don't say that," said Phil, but it was too late, as it had already been said. "Have you heard that Bullwark's father has been promoted to the Pope of Magic?" The Pope of Magic? This was indeed serious. After the Grand Seer of the Society of Magic, the Royal Emperor of Gainsburry, the First Pompadour, and the Vice-President of Marketing, there was no more important a person in the world of magical people. What kind of chaos could Bullwark Senior be planning? Harvey decided to save the answer for the end of the school year, so as to make the book novel-sized. Harvey wasted no time or paragraphs getting up to Dimpleturd's office. The Head Boss of Hogwash always knew what to do, except in those rare times Harvey and his friends were completely fucked and Dimpleturd was inexplicably oblivious. Harvey immediately told Dimpleturd about Bullwark Senior's promotion, but this was one of those times when Dimpleturd seemed to know everything and wasn't surprised. "Jackson Bullwark is a devious sort, but is well-respected by everyone in the magic world, as they have sort of a hard-on for evil shits," said Dimpleturd. "We'll have to play our Magic: The Gathering cards close to the vest for the time being, Harvey. Until thenâŚ" Dimpleturd rose from his chair and approached a stainless steel sphere lying on a shelf. He took it down and handed it to Harvey, who could see his own reflection in its surface. But the reflection didn't look quite right—it seemed, somehow, to be a different person staring back at him. And this one looked a little evil. Or maybe queer, Harvey seldom distinguished the two. "What is this, Professor Dimpleturd?" Harvey asked, because Dimpleturd would simply refuse to say anything unless Harvey asked an obvious question first. "That is a Lanstir," Dimpleturd said, his kindly eyes all aglow with fresh hashish. "It is a strange and wondrous tool, Harvey. To good male witches—" "Wizards." "Yes! Thank you. Geez, why do I always forget that word?" Dimpleturd continued, "To us good wizards, it can be a powerful way to defend yourself against black—er, African-American magic. But to the evil wizard, Harvey, it is a doorway to controlling the world and destroying all that is good. I am giving this to you right now for reasons that will never become apparent, but I give it to you with this warning — you must never use it." Harvey started to hand it back. "Perhaps then you should keep it safe in your office—" "Christ, no, I've got too many of the goddamn things as it is." Dimpleturd stared ominously into Harvey's eyes. "But I warn you now, Harvey: Don't ever let it fall into the hands of⌠ofâŚ" "Phenom Retarded?" "Yes! The most evil wizard on the planet, Phenom Retarded! Geez⌠why do I always want to save Dave Adams? It's Phenom Retarded, that's it." Harvey suspected he was in for his most dangerous year yet, which is a great thing to put inside the dust jacket. |