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Middle East Peace Treaty: Everybody Out March 18, 2002 |
The Middle East MRS. BIRD/GRAPHICS D New population breakdown of the post-treaty Middle East
“I am glad we have finally settled this long, brutal time of unrest,” Saudi Crown Prince Abdullah told five men in a barren stadium as echoes filled all around him. “I look forward to a long time of peace and prosperity, and hopefully repopulating our lands.”
“We have much to be thankful for,” said Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, to a small group of friends he had invited over for Pictionary. â...
treaty was signed Friday declaring peace between Israel and its surrounding Arab nations, something few thought they would see in their lifetime. And this time there is high expectations the treaty will hold, meaning peace for the 349 people still residing in the Middle East following a massive exodus of hardline and extremists Arabs and Israelites. “I am glad we have finally settled this long, brutal time of unrest,” Saudi Crown Prince Abdullah told five men in a barren stadium as echoes filled all around him. “I look forward to a long time of peace and prosperity, and hopefully repopulating our lands.” “We have much to be thankful for,” said Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, to a small group of friends he had invited over for Pictionary. “Our perseverance and tolerance have paid off, and finally we are at peace with our neighbors. We may still have disagreements, but they will be settled with smiles and handshakes rather than bullets and fire.” It was Prince Abdullah who first proposed the necessary solution for peace: Ousting of hardliners, extremists, radicals, and others who would not help the peace process, or even hinder it. During week-long discussions with Prime Minister Sharon and representatives of other Arab nations, the decision was reached that someone had to go if there was to be peace. So they did. With the help of U.S. and U.N. troops, in busload after busload, one plane after another, extremists on both sides were rounded up and deported from each country. Some voluntarily admitted their stance against the process of peace or making concessions to opposing countries, others were rooted out by previous statements or funny looks given when told of the plan for peace. Whether taken by force or collusion, any oppositions of peace were removed so as to allow a smooth and uncontested transition to the Middle East’s new peace. All critics or challengers of the peace process have a new home in Antarctica, where they will found a new country, christened by President Bush as Boomtown. The president liked the name as he coined it, but admitted, “If the new residents of Boomtown can stop fighting for five seconds to agree on a new name, by all means, call it something else.” The huge population shift has already been a boon to the residents of the Middle East, who find themselves among the richest nations in the non-Western world now with their remaining wealth divided up among the remaining 349 residents. “Allah be praised,” said passive Saudi Koran teacher Aburah Kahim. “I knew my wisdom and goodness would be rewarded. Should my new Jewish neighbors wish to make the journey to my house, we will have a full pork-free dinner at my table.” Things are not looking so well for the new residents of Boomtown, who find themselves the poorest nation on earth overnight. And though the country has been in existence for only 72 hours, their murder rate far surpasses their predicted Gross National Product already. Their first planned meeting of Parliament was postponed Saturday after six suicide bombers of various ethnic origin destroyed the ice cave where the meeting was to be held. “I miss the West Bank,” one Palestinian youth was heard to say before a steady stream of rocks pounded him from behind. the commune news firms abs and tightens thighs and buttocks, but never our own. Ivan Nacutchacokov has recently taken to impersonating a hat rack when ex-wife Ivana walks by—he’s so good at it we’re thinking of promoting him to wastebasket.
 | Colin Powell An Ass ManSecretary of State, war hero likes butts and cannot lie March 18, 2002 |
Washington, D.C. Ansel Evans Oh, yeah, Secretary of State likey
"Sure enough," Powell said, addressing a room full of inquisitive teen-agers and fine ladies, "I am, always have been, and always will be a connoisseur of sweet asses."
"Don't get me wrong," Powell continued, "I love every part of a tasty young lady—and I do mean every part. But if you nailed me down, oh, I don't know, say held a gun to my hand and demanded to know… it's true, folks. I'm a rear admiral."
Previous statements from sources close to the Secretary of State have suggested he loves big and bouncy titties, ...
.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell answered an M-TV audience's question on the show Be Heard: An M-TV Global Discussion With Colin Powell that, despite contradictory claims by friends and gossipers, he is indeed an ass man.
"Sure enough," Powell said, addressing a room full of inquisitive teen-agers and fine ladies, "I am, always have been, and always will be a connoisseur of sweet asses."
"Don't get me wrong," Powell continued, "I love every part of a tasty young lady—and I do mean every part. But if you nailed me down, oh, I don't know, say held a gun to my hand and demanded to know… it's true, folks. I'm a rear admiral."
Previous statements from sources close to the Secretary of State have suggested he loves big and bouncy titties, the bigger the better. One close friend, female, assured the press Powell was a legman, and couldn't resist a sweet mama with a long pair of "sex handles."
"Again, nothing wrong with a nice pair up there or down there," Powell said with a sly grin, running his hands sensuously against the podium, "but you all have me wrong. I'm into hip fox with a loose caboose."
As if proving his statement, as he exited the press room, Powell stopped and craned his neck trying to catch a glimpse of a female M-TV intern with a fully-loaded trunk on the way up the press aisle. "Mmm-mmm-MMM!" Powell grunted under his breath, shaking his head to escape the vision and exiting quietly. the commune news is presented in anamorphic widescreen to preserve its original theatrical aspect ratio of 2.35:1. Lil Duncan is the commune's Washington correspondent and therefore gets a parking space close to the building while hard-working tiny-type writers have to hoof it in from two blocks away.
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 March 18, 2002 The "M" Stands for Music!the commune's Clarissa Coleman kills the video and radio stars Loyal followers of All Things Coleman know my middle initial is M. Those of you who keep details anally (and I don't mean that literally, disgusting thought) think that stands for Mershowitz. Nope! The "M" stands for music! Legally, too, I had it changed at 3 a.m. a couple of days ago. I didn't even know they did that in Vegas at those hours.
Everybody's talking about the 80's right now, especially 80's music. And I couldn't be happier. Finally we're getting back to what makes rock great—synthesizers and pastel spandex. This time, Clarissa Coleman's going to be a part of the New Wave re-revolution.
That's right, I've started a band. We're still debating names. Some in the band want to call it The Clarissa Coleman Experience, but the rest of them don't want us to...
º Last Column: I've Had Plenty of Inappropriate Relationships
º more columns
Loyal followers of All Things Coleman know my middle initial is M. Those of you who keep details anally (and I don't mean that literally, disgusting thought) think that stands for Mershowitz. Nope! The "M" stands for music! Legally, too, I had it changed at 3 a.m. a couple of days ago. I didn't even know they did that in Vegas at those hours.
Everybody's talking about the 80's right now, especially 80's music. And I couldn't be happier. Finally we're getting back to what makes rock great—synthesizers and pastel spandex. This time, Clarissa Coleman's going to be a part of the New Wave re-revolution.
That's right, I've started a band. We're still debating names. Some in the band want to call it The Clarissa Coleman Experience, but the rest of them don't want us to become a novelty act or something. I personally don't want to capitalize on my prior successes, unless it makes us really popular. Still, there's other names that could do that. We're considering Stone Cold Burrito, The Fat-Ass Quakers, Your Mother Likes My Dick, and The Flaccid Band. The guys in the band aren't real keen on that last one, so we'll probably go with something else.
I'm personally leaning toward something that sounds really New Wave, like my favorite bands. I've offered Kaja-Schitzu, Spandex Opera, B.O.M. (Big Orchestra Music), The Eurothmicks (legally we can't use that), The Bobble Heads, The Taliban Twins, and Flock of Assholes. None of the band likes any of my suggestions for band names, and they keep rejecting my songs and lyrics. Personally I think "I Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa-Flunked My Driver's Test" was a classic waiting to happen, and "Put on A Me Suit" still breaks my heart. Sooner or later they have to let me contribute. I am the backup singer and cowbell player, after all.
We've played three shows so far, and let me tell you, "backup singer" is just a title. I steal the show and everybody knows it. I've even had the lead singer Misha tell me to keep quiet or shut-up on occasion, everybody was listening to my vocals more. We actually got into a fight at the third show, but like all good bands and families, we make up afterwards, or just don't talk to each other for a long time until it's all forgotten. Apparently that bitch Misha is taking that route.
We're yet to record any demos, we're still in the process of gathering the money. The band naturally assumed I had millions of dollars, since I'm practically a household name like Sting or Lemon Joy, and were pretty upset to find out I had no money. We even talked about disbanding the band, starting with me, but I convinced them to hang in there and with all my contacts in the business and entertainment world I could get the money together for great demos.
It's just as well since we haven't really decided on our sound. Most of the audience doesn't even know we're New Wave yet. Most of the band doesn't know it, they think we're Christian Rock, hence the working name of Jesus Fish, but once we can agree on the way we sound and our name and how we dress (I still like the idea of purple Outbreak suits) we'll be the biggest new band on the planet. This planet, folks. Warzy, eh?
In the mean time I'm just going to be the silent team leader and be a professional about my rehearsals. I still can't really sing "the Lord is my savior" without laughing. º Last Column: I've Had Plenty of Inappropriate Relationshipsº more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“Let my nizzles go!”
-Moses Harper, on 19th StreetFortune 500 CookieIron lung, shmiron lung—that guy had it coming. Don't bother with that waiting list for Oxford—Kentucky Fried Chicken College wants you now. It's fish or die again this week—same ol', same ol'. Lucky religions: Buddhism, Paganism, Mormonism, worshipping Isaac Hayes
Try again later.Least Heard Mobster Euphemisms for Murder| 1. | Treat this guy to a steel sundae | | 2. | Make his shoes a lot heavier, more sinkable | | 3. | Invalidate his parking | | 4. | Go apeshit on this fuck | | 5. | Fill him full of holes like a Dade County ballot (2000 only) | |
|   Yates Trial Inspires Color-Coded "Insanity" Chart BY roland mcshyster 3/4/2002 Holy washed-up franchise, Batman! It's Oscar season and no lisping game bird is going to convince Roland McShyster otherwise. Pay no heed to the lies about Christmastime, the most magical time of the year is truly upon us. So let's get coked up to the gills and revel in the joy that is the month before the Oscars!
Here's your dossier on the bewildering list of nominees:
Best Picture
A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-
This film touched me in much the same way as last year's Requiem for a Dreamcast. Both were films made me stand up and shout back at the void: "Now THOSE are some ti...
Holy washed-up franchise, Batman! It's Oscar season and no lisping game bird is going to convince Roland McShyster otherwise. Pay no heed to the lies about Christmastime, the most magical time of the year is truly upon us. So let's get coked up to the gills and revel in the joy that is the month before the Oscars! Here's your dossier on the bewildering list of nominees: Best PictureA Beautiful Mime -read EP review-This film touched me in much the same way as last year's Requiem for a Dreamcast. Both were films made me stand up and shout back at the void: "Now THOSE are some tits!" Powerful filmmaking that has given me a new taste for women of few words… who let the cleavage do the talking. I advise you to let it change your world some time soon.
Goosefart Park
Those loveable Animal House morons are back, and this time they're stuck at a quaint Country Inn in the small English town of Goosefart Park. A surprise pick for a Best Picture nomination, but you'll be hard-pressed to find a film this year with more beaver jokes. There's a lot of raunchy humour for the whole family, but this isn't a one-sided farce. The film also brings home the important life lesson that England is stupid.
In the Bedroom
It's a bold statement, but this is probably the best film ever based on a Cream song. To be honest, I didn't understand the movie any better than I understood the tune, (psychedelic interior decorating tips? And who buys black curtains these days?) but regardless, this flick is head and heels above Kevin Costner's dismal Aqualung.
The Lords of the Ring: The Fellowship in the Ring -read EP review-
This is the year gay boxing movies stepped into the mainstream, and there is no finer example than The Lords of the Ring. If a picture is worth a thousand words, and this isn't the best picture of the year, then that means there are a thousand finer words out there somewhere, and personally I find that disbelievable. This is one of those rare movies that grabs you by your manhood and sucks you off. Or in. And as the wizened old boxing trainer Gaydar says in the film: "Sometimes you choose gay boxing. And sometimes gay boxing chooses you." I couldn't have put it better, even with 989 more words and a Polaroid.
Mule in Rouge -read EP review-
Another surprise nomination for Best Picture, as the Academy seems to have a soft spot for screwball comedies this year. This time it's a loveable Talking Mule picture that gets the surprise nod and a wink. And I know what you're thinking, that they always nominate the Talking Mule pictures but they never win the big awards. It's like an unwritten rule. But this year things could be different since there's a lot of buzz under this donkey's tail and I hear the Church of Scientology is throwing it's Hollywood weight around to secure the golden flasher for this picture.
Best Director
Don Henley, A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-
Leave it to a former Eagle to take this tale of form-fitting mime costumes all the way to the limit. Sure, he could have taken it easy, but that's not Henley's style. Being the new kid in town, director-wise, he had a lot to prove, and I for one am hoping there's no heartache for him on Oscar night. Hopefully his film will leave Academy voters with a peaceful, easy feeling, and provide them with a place to hide their lion eyes.
Ripley Scott, Black Hawk Down -read EP review-
Every film this guy does without having a space lizard or whatever spring out of his chest is a triumph in my book. I'd really be pulling for him to take home the gold this year on that basis alone if it weren't for the fact that his movie had way too much pan flute music in it for my tastes. I mean, I guess it's a depressed-bird kind of instrument, but in my opinion you can take that too far.
Robert Palmer, Goosefart Park
Three years ago it was all about foreign dictators directing films, and last year it was about rock-band movies. This year the natural progression continues and it's pop stars turning into directors, and nobody was more surprised than me to discover that this pedophile-looking limey can direct a frat comedy like nobody's business. Both this film and A Beautiful Mime make me realize how far ahead of his time Terrence Trent D'Arby really was when he directed The Thin Red Line a few years ago, really the grandfather of pop star directors. Sure, the inclusion of Power Station's Some Like it Hot in Palmer's film was a little self-serving, but I have to admit it synched up pretty well with the scene where the morons set the Inn on fire.
Peter, Paul and Mary Jackson, The Lords of the Ring: The Fellowship in the Ring -read EP review-
What's more amazing than pop stars making the successful transition to directing feature films? How about entire bands making the leap? Scoff no more my friends, because it happened while you weren't paying attention. If these 60's folkamuffins can direct the best gay boxing film ever, I can't wait to see Metallica's directorial debut this summer.
David Lynch, Mulholland Drive -read EP review-
Sure, he's crazier than a shithouse weasel, but there's no denying that some people out there enjoy the scrambled brainbatter he yanks out of his rectum every few years. Personally, I liked his films more before he decreed that all film scores should be played by throwing live fish at a piano, but you've got to admire his creative vision.
Best Actor
Russell Crowe, A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-
Really rubbing the charm thin after his role in Almost Famous, Crowe serves as a cleavage-blocking impediment to an otherwise arresting film. Back to the Louvre with you, Frenchie.
Sean Penn, I Am Sam -read EP review-
Leave it to a balls-out amazing actor like Penn to garner an Oscar nomination for the smallest of roles. Some may argue that his cameo as the fox in the box was too scant a role to deserve the Oscar nod, but I ask you this: did you ever doubt for a second that that there was really a fox in that box where Knox would not eat the green eggs and ham, would not eat them Sam I Am? I rest my case.
Geoffrey Rush, Lantana
Who?
Mr. Smith, ALI -read EP review-
Talk about taking a boring film and driving it right into the dull, lifeless ground! This is it. The American Law Institute could have salvaged some shred of an audience's attention by casting a big-name star in this plodding logjam of a film, but instead they chose to feature this faceless corporate lawyer in an unbelievably gray suit. I thought for a second this movie might turn into a Pink Floyd video but in the end it turned out that irony was not on the witness list.
Denzel Washington, Training Day -read EP review-
After a long, painful journey, Denzel finally finds his niche in this talking toddler pic. He's never had a finer moment than when he's chasing little Mikey around the apartment while he's got a shitty pair of pull-ups around his ankles (but don't ask me why Denzel was wearing pull-ups in the first place! Zing!). It just goes to show that talent can blossom late, and here Denzel is at his best since To Wong Fu…
Best Animated Film
In a surprising move by the Academy, the Best Actress category has been replaced this year by a new award for Best Animated Film. I'm sure you can imagine the endless griping that has ensued, but for what? I mean, who doesn't like cartoons?
Jimmy Nimrod: Boy Genius -read EP review-
Hands-down the funniest film of the year, and one of the main reasons you'll be hearing Roland McShyster's tortured screams echoing up from hell once we all hit the afterlife. I stand behind my actions, however, and if seeing an exploitive comedy about a retarded super-spy twelve times in the theater is a damnable offense, then damn the torpedoes and steer this cruise ship towards the Hades water park, my friends.
Mobsters, INC. -read EP review-
A computer-animated classic set in the mobster's paradise of New Jersey. A funny, fascinating, and fuggetaboutit musical for those of us who like our fellas good and our fathers godly. Or something, I don't know. Look for Joe Piscapo in his trademark insane mobster role.
Beatty and the Beast
I had the weird deja-vu feeling that I'd seen this movie before, but with all of the great new stuff they're cranking out, it's not like Disney would just rehash one of their old movies to make a few extra bucks. Anyway, it's great to see Ned Beatty working again, though to be honest sometimes I got confused about who was the Beast.
And that's a wrap! Now's it's time to bask in the afterglow while we await the ceremony itself. When will it be? Nobody knows! But that's half the fun of it. And from me to you, America, I hope it's some kind of wonderful. See you in a month!
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