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Special Investigator to Interrogate Al Qaeda PrisonersSan Francisco's Harry Callahan anxious to talk to terrorists alone in stock room January 21, 2002 |
Washington, DC Junior Bacon Callahan fires a warning shot in the direction of Cuba
"Callahan is one of the best interrogators anywhere," Ashcroft told reporters. "For an investigation of this caliber, we decided to call in someone outside the FBI and CIA to take over the questioning at this point."
Controversy surrounds Callahan, who has been labeled by the ACLU and Serial Killers' Trade Union as a "dangerous, reckless monster" who will stop at nothing until he gets what he wants.
"Say what you will," Ashcroft responded to the charges, "Callahan gets results."
he White House announced today that a special investigator has been chosen by Attorney General John Ashcroft to question Al Qaeda prisoners being held at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. After much consideration, Ashcroft's choice was San Francisco detective "Dirty" Harry Callahan.
"Callahan is one of the best interrogators anywhere," Ashcroft told reporters. "For an investigation of this caliber, we decided to call in someone outside the FBI and CIA to take over the questioning at this point."
Controversy surrounds Callahan, who has been labeled by the ACLU and Serial Killers' Trade Union as a "dangerous, reckless monster" who will stop at nothing until he gets what he wants.
"Say what you will," Ashcroft responded to the charges, "Callahan gets results."
Inspector Callahan, who has earned the nickname "Dirty" Harry among his colleagues, fielded a few questions after Ashcroft's introduction.
A reporter from the Washington Post confronted Callahan about charges of brutality and the disregard for procedure, particularly concerning First Amendment rights. Squinting, Callahan leaned into the microphone and whispered menacingly, "What about the rights of those two buildings?"
Ashcroft began chuckling under his breath until he tumbled out of his chair.
White House officials confirmed Callahan would be traveling to Guantanamo Bay immediately to begin his interrogation of the Al Qaeda "ragheads," in his words. Already Callahan has begun his plan, requesting five minutes alone with each prisoner unsupervised, which was immediately granted by the Ashcroft.
Assisting Callahan in matters of interrogation will be his recently-assigned partner, also from San Francisco, Ruiz de Santo. De Santo, a young officer fresh from the beat to the detective squad, is excited about his opportunity to work with Callahan.
"Sure, he's a little gruff," De Santo said with a cheery smile, "but underneath that I'm sure he's a good guy. You wait and see. After all this I'm going to invite him over to the house for dinner with the wife and kids. He'll be a family man by the time we're done, I'll bet my life on it."
Callahan has recently aroused controversy by calling the trial of alleged Al Qaeda terrorist Richard Reid a "sham" and proposing trials of terrorists be cut short so they could be taken out back and shot on live television. Civil rights advocates were outraged, especially at Callahan's suggestion that current airline policies for dealing with unruly passengers be replaced.
"When I see a whacko trying to light his shoe bomb on fire, I shoot the bastard, that's my policy," stated Callahan.
The White House is optimistic that Callahan will retrieve valuable information that could lead to the dismantling of the Al Qaeda terrorist network, and perhaps even the capture of Osama bin Laden.
"By the time Callahan's through with one of those guys," President Bush said, "we'll know everything from where he was born to how many times his girlfriend farts in bed. The terrorist being questioned, I mean, not Callahan." the commune news is now ready to jump on the big scooter fad. Lil Duncan is a senior correspondent for the commune and can turn the world on with her smile and flash of her breasts.
 | Economy Fine, According to PollEnron CEO sees economy as "just fine" January 21, 2002 |
Worshington, DC Snapper Dougal Enron CEO Ken Lay and George W. Bush at a recent square-dancing competition
Enron CEO and acknowledged Ponzi-scheme expert Ken Lay, queried while attending a White House get-together with his butt-buddy George W. Bush, the alleged president of the United States, put to rest rumors that the economy was about to go south, or was, in fact, already in the tank.
"That's a lot of horse shit," Lay said, laughing heartily. "I mean, sure, a few thousand people have been laid off recently, and maybe one or two of 'em are going to have to sell their boats or their vacation houses, but from where I sit... ha ha, excuse me, I just find this very amusing... from where I... ha ha ha!... from where I sit... oh, dear god, this is too much..." Lay ch...
n a recent poll of Enron CEO's, the American economy was said to be doing "just fine right now, just fine."
Enron CEO and acknowledged Ponzi-scheme expert Ken Lay, queried while attending a White House get-together with his butt-buddy George W. Bush, the alleged president of the United States, put to rest rumors that the economy was about to go south, or was, in fact, already in the tank.
"That's a lot of horse shit," Lay said, laughing heartily. "I mean, sure, a few thousand people have been laid off recently, and maybe one or two of 'em are going to have to sell their boats or their vacation houses, but from where I sit... ha ha, excuse me, I just find this very amusing... from where I... ha ha ha!... from where I sit... oh, dear god, this is too much..." Lay chortled convulsively for a few minutes, then paused to wipe tears from his eyes. He took a few deep breaths with the aid of what appeared to be a large canister of nitrous oxide, and shook his head vigorously. Finally somewhat composed, he continued, "From where I sit, the economy is just peachy-fucking-keen! Ha! Ain't that right, Cracky?"
Lay then reached over to smack the alleged president hard on his backside, which caused him to nearly drop the glass pipe and butane lighter he had been holding up to his face, and to cough and choke on the voluminous clouds of acrid smoke that billowed from his mouth and nose.
"Oh, yeah. Whatever you say, Kenny," Bush said, once he had regained his composure. "Kenny's my main man," he went on, "whatever he says, you can trust it to be truthorious."
When asked if he thought most other Americans shared his rosy view of the current economy, Lay said simply, "Ha! Who gives a flying fuck? What color are their parachutes?"
To which Bush chimed in, "Yeah. Joke 'em if they can't take a fucking."
Lay then stared hard at his compatriot for a few long seconds, and finally commented, "You know, you really are a fucking idiot, Cracky, just like everyone says."
"Shut up!" retorted Bush. "Am not!"
The two then engaged in a slap fight that lasted nearly ten minutes, with Lay appearing to get the best of Bush by feinting with his left hand and repeatedly connecting with his right on Bush's cheek.
Asked for further comment on the state of the economy, Lay just waved his hand in dismissal and chuckled some more.
Signaling that the interview was concluded, Bush then turned his attention back to the glass pipe and lighter, ignoring both Lay and this reporter.
The event was a simple Saturday morning gathering that featured Colin Powell doing a sprightly tap dance for the guests, followed by John Ashcroft demonstrating some of the latest torture techniques on a group of unnamed Middle Eastern detainees and a ritual deflowering of all the underage daughters of the White House staff. Brunch was served, and it was a hearty Texas-style repast, composed of hearts of retarded felon salad in a balsamic vinaigrette and baked Mexican baby head with truffles. the commune news said you were allowed to play your guitar until 10 and it's 10:01 now. There's more to Boner Cunningham than meets the eye, and no one disputes his prowess with a microphone, so just back off, bub. That's right, I mean you. Hit the bricks,
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 February 4, 2002 A Piper Bill for QuebecIf there's one thing Ned hates, it's dribbling baby eyeballs. Seemingly everywhere: in Ned's taco, spreadable on toast, and in the wheel-well of his car even! Cereal boxes so jam-packed that there's not even room for the cereal itself. Drooping out of his glove compartment, sloshing around in his underwear drawer, filling up his rain gauge like they was invited!
Who can Nedder blame for this plague of ocular proportions? Quebec? Yes, most likely so it is Quebec who is fallen asleep at the wheel. Long has Ned trusted them Canadians to keep his living space clear of such annoyances, and for another time they have let Ned down. First it was the day he found his deep-freezer to be full of crickets, a sure sign that Quebecans is slacking off on the job. Another time it was all the ...
º Last Column: Flush it Down, Charlie Brown
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If there's one thing Ned hates, it's dribbling baby eyeballs. Seemingly everywhere: in Ned's taco, spreadable on toast, and in the wheel-well of his car even! Cereal boxes so jam-packed that there's not even room for the cereal itself. Drooping out of his glove compartment, sloshing around in his underwear drawer, filling up his rain gauge like they was invited!
Who can Nedder blame for this plague of ocular proportions? Quebec? Yes, most likely so it is Quebec who is fallen asleep at the wheel. Long has Ned trusted them Canadians to keep his living space clear of such annoyances, and for another time they have let Ned down. First it was the day he found his deep-freezer to be full of crickets, a sure sign that Quebecans is slacking off on the job. Another time it was all the slimy basketballs in Ned's pool, and yet another the day he woke up with his sinus cavities packed full of rice crispies.
Long ago was the day the King of all Lands appointed them Quebecers the guardians of all things irregular and entrusted them with keepin' the world stable and whatnot. And more often than not, they've done their jobs. But today, Ned is calling them to the carpetbagger on their failure to keep things right.
But what does a boy do now? Does Neddle send them a bill for having all them drooping baby eyeballs flushed out of his radiator? Is Ned to expect a letter of apology for the Eye McMuffin him accidentally bit into this morning? What about the goopy, gelatinous eyeball muck currently clogging up his roof gutters? One is afraid to even address that issue, sure enough.
How about the time that Volkswagen pulled up in Ned's driveway and those thirteen identical Martin Shorts got out and insisted on staying as Ned's guests for a month? What with all their juggling and dirty joke-telling and whatnot. Who's to reimburse Nedder for that trauma of an emotional nature? And who's going to compensate the local pee-wee league football team who had their knickers dusted by the All-Martin-Short team in the championship game?
There's a smell on the wind and Ned's nose tells him it's the smell of Canadians. Time for them to get them maple-syrup-slurping bottoms on down here and pay the piper. He's been noodlin' on that pipe for a good four days straight now, and Ned sure as hell didn't hire him, and so is not likely to be too up in the teeth about paying him his owed due wages. Let me tell you.
So come on, folks of Quebec. Time to get with them programs! No more raining lobster bibs, no more child seats full of walrus meat, no more erector-set birthday bees. You know how them things is likely to happen and how they aint. No more celibate tuna policemens or nerf balls that come out the governor's mouth when he talks. No more deep-sea flute recitals or monsters bearing witness to the conversion of pope Archibald. No more, says Ned! Them shindiggeries has gone on long enough. º Last Column: Flush it Down, Charlie Brownº more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“Freedom is a fragile thing, and must be protected; however, it is nowhere near as fragile as my aunt's vase, so it seems a fair exchange to lock you in your room for two weeks, you little hooligan.”
-MomFortune 500 CookieMore fruit, dammit!—more fruit, I say! Time to give up the blackmail scheme; there's no getting blood from a stone. Flush once for yes, twice for no. You'll bury all your old grudges this week, and grandpa—sorry, I suppose we could have let you know in a nicer way. Bad dog goes horrible dog this weekend.
Try again later.Worst Arguments Used Against Right-to-Die Advocates| 1. | Can't learn to play fiddle when you're dead | | 2. | My personal religion goes against it, ergo, you should do what I say | | 3. | Star Wars III looks like it's going to redeem the series | | 4. | Probably no afterlife, just a harrowing void of darkness and stillness for eternity | | 5. | Got a really good feeling things are gonna turn around for you, man | |
|   Condit Slams Media for Lack of Publicity BY roland mcshyster 1/21/2002 Fat chance, America! I get the distinct impression that you thought there would be no Entertainment Police this week, in observance of MLK day or what have you, but I'm afraid you're sorely mistaken! The media reviews must go on, and I think we both know that Michael Keaton would have wanted it that way. Brace your seat belts, because it's a brand new year and Hollywood's got a lot of explaining to do!
In Theaters Now:
Black Hawk Down
Man, you doze off for one quick little cat nap during the "Real World" marathon and the next thing you know, Jack Black's everywhere. It's kind of creepy, I mean who did he have to blow to get into every single movie coming out this month? Don't get me wrong, I...
Fat chance, America! I get the distinct impression that you thought there would be no Entertainment Police this week, in observance of MLK day or what have you, but I'm afraid you're sorely mistaken! The media reviews must go on, and I think we both know that Michael Keaton would have wanted it that way. Brace your seat belts, because it's a brand new year and Hollywood's got a lot of explaining to do!
In Theaters Now:
Black Hawk Down
Man, you doze off for one quick little cat nap during the "Real World" marathon and the next thing you know, Jack Black's everywhere. It's kind of creepy, I mean who did he have to blow to get into every single movie coming out this month? Don't get me wrong, I like the guy and all, but this is out of hand. I wonder if they had some kind of "Sorcerer's Apprentice" episode out in Hollywood where some studio exec tried to chop up Black with an axe and then they just ended up with a whole shitload of little Jack Blacks running around. That's about the only thing that would explain it. Oh, by the way, this is a kind of touchy-feely pic about a lonely guy who nurses his pet falcon back from a seasonal affective disorder. It's probably worth it if you're into that kind of thing.
The Count in Monty's Crisco
Everyone knows there's always been a rift between the Sesame Street regulars who got to cross over into "The Muppet Show" and various Muppet films, and those who didn't. And with the box office success of the Muppet films, and the decisive trouncing of the Sesame Street cast by the cast of the Muppet Show in Muppetmania IV, many have considered the battle for supremacy all but decided. And truth be told, I raise my hand among the guilty on those counts. But then there comes a film like this that makes us all ashamed of ourselves for counting out those hungry Sesame Street puppets. Here the Count establishes himself as a top-drawer leading man and a deft physical comedian who can pop unexpectedly out of a Crisco can better than anyone in recent memory. This is a picture full of warm surprises, and lots of Crisco cans, and if your kids don't love it you should tell them they're adopted. Also starring Jack Black as the Count's human friend Monty.
Orange County
Finally the adventures of Bill the Cat and Oprah the Duck see the big screen in this live-action adaptation of everyone's favorite comic strip. Jack Black stars as Bill, and gives his best performance since his breakthrough roles in "Meet Jack Black" and "Black Spring Break".
Snow Dogs
Man, this reggae-rapping albino just won't go away, will he? Looks like his debut film "Snow Day" didn't quite make him the chick magnet he'd expected, so this time Snow is going the Tarantino route in this incredibly bizarre film about a pack of sled dogs that conspire to rob a bank. Snow is, of course, the criminal mastermind who gives them all funny nicknames, and Jack Black co-stars as the lead Husky.
Now on Video:
The Fat and the Furious
Everybody's heard of miracle weight-loss programs that are supposed to shuck off the pounds like a model escaping Charlie Sheen's condo, but then end up being about as useless as air brakes on a Daewoo. But what if all the chubby suckers who bought into these programs stood up and demanded revenge, forming a vigilante group not unlike the A-Team who travel around in a really big van? What if they plotted to round up the guys who thought a shake for breakfast and a shake for lunch sounded like a good idea, and then drown them in movie theater popcorn butter? You're damn right it would be funny.
Glass House
Punishingly slow art flick about a stone-throwing champion from Ireland who turns out to be not so tough on the inside when he falls in love with a paraplegic mother of four who was paralyzed by some asshole throwing rocks at a Pogues concert. I didn't even know throwing rocks was a real sport, but I guess it makes sense if you're from Ireland.
Rush: Hour 2
If you didn't think bloat-rock pioneers Rush had the pale Canadian cojones to release their latest concert film in two installments to maximize profits, then you probably won't believe me when I say that this whole damn tape is an hour-long jam on "Tom Sawyer" that will make you think you've had chemotherapy.
Two Can Play That Game
Possibly the worst tennis movie ever made, undermined by an almost total lack of understanding of how the game is played. I'm all for suspension of disbelief, but it's hard when two guys who are supposed to be tennis champions spend the movie wearing football helmets and hitting Frisbees back and forth with huge frozen trout. An utterly transparent attempt to cash in on the recent tennis-movie craze and ride the coat-tails of blockbusters like "The Score" and "The Royal Tennis Bums", I give this movie an "F". For foney.
What's the Worst That Could Happen
Didn't think they could make a great comedy about the Donner party? Well, you're right. Whoever told Martin Lawrence he was funny must have died before he could expose the candid-camera punch line. Thanks a lot, Mr. Jerk, whoever you are.
Television:
A brand new year and a brand new slew of shows lining up for the axe! Let me try to review them before they finish canceling them.
Imagine That (NBC)
Executive Producer Mike Myers makes a big to-do out of this parody of Ron Howard's film company Imagine Entertainment. Maybe he's going for overkill. Do you find a jabbering red-headed retard spilling food on himself and messing his pants funny? Yes, indeed. A can't miss. Except it's already canceled.
The Chamber (Fox)
In typical TV fashion, a bad movie with big stars is made into a bad series with third-rate stars. Gene Hackman and Chris O'Donnell are replaced with Mark Knopfler and DJ Jazzy Jeff in this TV adaption of the movie adaption of the John Grisham novel. Oops, they actually canceled it while I was typing this review.
Worst Monday (CBS)
An hourlong drama about a guy who's girlfriend is having her period doesn't scream huge potential to me. All in all, it was pretty good, no telling if they can keep up the quality, but I doubt it will be a concern. I would tell you how this episode ended but they canceled it while I was watching.
Video Games:
Sponging Bob (Game Boy Advance)
Creepy game where you try to go around town getting errands done without bumping
into the big fat moocher Bob. Game Boy's graphics can't match the hi-fi of an X-Box
or a Playstation 2, but the game is so frighteningly realistic you can forgive the
graphics. I actually realized I was missing $30 when I finished playing.
Final Fantasy X (PS2)
I tried to play this stupid game in my Sex Box for an hour before I found out it was a
PS2 game. What kind of company puts a competitor's trademarked letter on your
own software? Assholes like that don't deserve to have their game reviewed.
The game sucked anyway. Dude, if you want to sex up a fat Dutch woman and a
sheep at the same time, that's cool, just don't put your fetishes in my game.
Eternal Darkness (Gamecube)
Another one of those dreary and depressing black and white foreign games that all the
critics love. It's hard to kill a giant fire-breathing plant or bonk Death on the head with
a hammer when you're reading subtitles. I couldn't even finish it but I'm sure you just
wake up to find out all the weird shit was a dream, just like every other foreign game.
All right America, that's all I wrote. Run along home to the misses or the mister, or whatever the hell kind of thing you've got going on at home, I'm not here to judge your lifestyle. Sweep out the Calistoga wagon or tighten the straps on the ball gag or whatever it is that makes you people happy, and we'll be back in two short weeks with more entertainment jambalaya!   |
