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Bush Wishes Everyone Liked Tool As Much As He DoesPresident's favorite band not enjoyed by friends like he enjoys them July 22, 2002 |
Washington, DC Ansel Evans George Bush, rockin' leader of the free world
"I mean, they 'like' Tool and all," stated the president, "but it's just not the same. They like Tool like they won't turn them off if they're on the radio or something. I like Tool like I want to put in the CD and jam, you know, to sing along to all the songs, even the ones most people don't know. I know all their albums and who played on each song by heart. Nobody I know likes Tool like that, nobody."
Attorney General John Ashcroft confirmed the president's feelings.
"To...
resident Bush stated Sunday that he wished everyone was into Tool as much as he is. Though he did not name names, the president implied everyone surrounding him, from his wife Laura Bush to Secretary of State Colin Powell, did not enjoy the hard rock band on the same level he does.
"I mean, they 'like' Tool and all," stated the president, "but it's just not the same. They like Tool like they won't turn them off if they're on the radio or something. I like Tool like I want to put in the CD and jam, you know, to sing along to all the songs, even the ones most people don't know. I know all their albums and who played on each song by heart. Nobody I know likes Tool like that, nobody."
Attorney General John Ashcroft confirmed the president's feelings.
"Tool's not bad, I'm not saying that. It's just… I don't know, I'm not into it at all, really. Not too hard for me or nothing, I don't think, I just prefer other kinds of stuff. If I want to listen to something heavy I usually go for Rammstein or stuff like that. Most of the time I just listen to Creed. I like Creed and nobody around here does. You don't see me flipping out and whining about it."
The president, a reported Tool fan since his days as Governor of Texas when the band released Aenima, has tried since then to get everybody into Tool, from South African president Nelson Mandella to his daughters.
"Bar's into that really gay new country and Jenna just likes Jimmy Buffett. I swear, I don't know whose kids they are, but they didn't get that from me," said the president.
Unable to share his love for the band with surrounding friends, family members, and staff, the president has turned to Tool message boards and chat rooms, where his login name is usually Prisonsex2000.
"This guy the other day wouldn't shut up about 'Sober,' like it's their best song ever and, man, it was just so clear this guy was a newbie. Me and the other fans at toolbox.com were just all straight-faced, like, 'Yeah, man, that's sure 'nuff it!' I mean, don't get me wrong, 'Sober' kicks ass, no one will say it doesn't, but no one who's a Tool fan needs to be told that, right?"
Tool has been instrumental in Bush's life since he discovered them as Governor of Texas. He even credits his decision to run for president because of his love for hard rock music, stating to several press groups in 1992 that America could do better than a Fleetwood Mac fan as president. the commune news needs 30 cc's of demoral, stat, nurse! Lil Duncan makes an impressive turkey drawing with just a few crayons and an outline of her own hand.
 | Afghan President Steps in for Vice-PresidentNew president sought after confusing transfer of power July 8, 2002 |
Kabul, Afghanistan Snapper McGee Former Afghan President, now Vice-President Hamid Karzai (left, pictured with his Uncle Junior) plays a solemn funeral march on a water bottle.
"As of this time, I am now second in command of the country of Afghanistan," Karzai said to a small gathering of reporters in the presidential bunker.
When pressed by western and Middle Eastern reporters alike on the logic of stepping down to fill a position below you, Karzai did not respond. He ended the press conference when persistent inquiries as to who is now the president of Afghanistan came up. Reporters were shuffled from the bunker by burly guards, one of whom we swear used to work at Studio 54.
The late Qadir was an important p...
ollowing the assassination of Afghan Vice-President Abdul Qadir by armed terrorists Saturday, Afghan President Hamid Karzai immediately took over the role of Vice-President within a few short hours of the incident.
"As of this time, I am now second in command of the country of Afghanistan," Karzai said to a small gathering of reporters in the presidential bunker.
When pressed by western and Middle Eastern reporters alike on the logic of stepping down to fill a position below you, Karzai did not respond. He ended the press conference when persistent inquiries as to who is now the president of Afghanistan came up. Reporters were shuffled from the bunker by burly guards, one of whom we swear used to work at Studio 54.
The late Qadir was an important part of the rebuilding of Afghanistan's government. The veteran Pashtun warlord was believed a stabilizing influence and supporter of U.S. action in the country, and with him gone, that stability is now in question. With Karzai unintentionally demoting himself to a secondary position, it may be up to the U.S. to call upon a new president and then responsibility placed on the people of Afghanistan to "elect" them in a fair election, like the kind that put George W. Bush in office.
With the future of Afghanistan again under pressure, advice is coming in from strange circles.
"This never should have happened, and measures should be instituted to prevent it from happening again," said CEO of WorldCom Inc. John Sidgmore. "I may not know assassinations and domestic terrorism, but I know power structures and fire coming up from below. You never want to have just one person beneath you on a pyramid. I suggest at least three, maybe up to ten Vice Presidents to create that solid second floor. That way if things start crumbling underneath you from the bottom up, you've at least got a few more bodies in the way before you hit the ground."
The president was also reached for his obligatory quote.
"It's a sad day for the Afghanistanian people," said the president, then nodding to affirm what he had said. "That guy they lost was a valued member of our foreign department. It's a sad day for his family and the people who liked him, of which I understand there are many. The people who don't like him are having a happy day, but their happy day will turn into a sad day when we catch up with them. And that will be a happy day for us."
When questioned about Karzai's decision to step in for the fallen Vice President, Bush's resolve was tempered and cautious. "It's a very brave step, although we will wait and see if it was good or not. I have a vice president. I know that I would be terrified if something happened to him, and with his heart running like a '69 Impala, that possibility is always lurking in the shadows." the commune news sends its liver out to the people of Afghanistan, its heart still not yet returned from San Francisco. Ivan Nacutchacokov is a commune foreign correspondent and has been gathering dust with our lack of overseas reporting until lately.
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 July 8, 2002 Riboflavin Sounds Like a Brand of Edible Condomsthe commune's Stu Umbrage rowed his boat gently up the stream and all he got was this lousy song Hey, shit on me, I got a virtual postcard! I haven't had one of these since the time the IRS sent me that nice animated GIF of a cute little thug breaking my thumbs. And, if you'd believe it, this is even nicer. Though I do miss that little midi file of the Macarena the IRS sent along with theirs. Whenever I see a mob movie I can't help but hum along... "One little two little three Macarena! Get off your lazy ass and make me a danish! Gordita banderas tijuana hola, HEY MACARENA!"
Man, I hadn't realized how much my Spanish was improving. These subliminal tapes are da bomb.
How dreadfully rudish of me to go on about my personal problems like that, I must say that I'm sorry and this is my brother Bill. We're from Okilyma, Kansas. Nice to make your acquaintance, would...
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Hey, shit on me, I got a virtual postcard! I haven't had one of these since the time the IRS sent me that nice animated GIF of a cute little thug breaking my thumbs. And, if you'd believe it, this is even nicer. Though I do miss that little midi file of the Macarena the IRS sent along with theirs. Whenever I see a mob movie I can't help but hum along... "One little two little three Macarena! Get off your lazy ass and make me a danish! Gordita banderas tijuana hola, HEY MACARENA!"
Man, I hadn't realized how much my Spanish was improving. These subliminal tapes are da bomb.
How dreadfully rudish of me to go on about my personal problems like that, I must say that I'm sorry and this is my brother Bill. We're from Okilyma, Kansas. Nice to make your acquaintance, would you care for a dip? Granola dip? A tall, refreshing glass of blue barbershop dip? Hmm. If I spelled acquaintance right, this may be the seventh sign that all hell is waiting for a tech support person to get loose on the other line. Pray for me, Webster.
I shall do my utmost to refrain from my habit of pleading with minority child star midget-people for the remainder of this column. It shall be a concerted effort, and an affordable concert. This I vow.
But knowing you (and we go back, don't we? Seems like it was near the turn of the century when I said to myself: "Akk! I'm an atom! Get me out of this catfood! Jaaaayne! Stop this crazy thing!" Uh, sorry 'bout that, on with the thing) I doubt you really mind. You probably stained a throw rug with your pee stream after that Loompatuwanka gag last column and you're just glad this column isn't full of show-stoppers like that one. Man.
I only wish I could be geographically further away, so as to escape the inevitable police dragnet when the AM-PM down the street realizes they're short three packets of creamer. I tried to stop the guy but he had some kind of backyard-wrestling ninjitsu going on that I wasn't adequately prepared to deal with.
Not that I really blame him. Scamming some free creamer would surely save on the ol' grocery bills, if you know what I mean. The Grocery Bills? That sounds like a bad co-ed football team from Safeway. Holy SHIT I'm funny! My apologies.
Anyway, ever know a girl who was getting married? I did. Trust me, in a few short months she will no longer resemble the friend you knew, if in fact you knew her, and if in fact she's a woman because otherwise the grammar of this sentence is just shot all to hell. She will become a strange married being with a remote-controlled ass. You know those domestic types with their burros. Tragic. I not only lost a friend, I gained a friend-in-law who listens to Christian Speed-Metal. Yeah, there really is such a thing. I didn't know you could bite the head off a dove for Jesus until last week.
Crapola. This little column has really bloated up into a monstrous ubercolumn, so big that there are trailers for it at the beginning of some of my other columns. I'd be upset about it, but then I just got this postcard that... seems to... answer my unasked question...
-violins soar-
Jiminy Christmas, did you see those violins? Must be another knockdown drag-out over at the music teacher's place. I should stop sneaking my clothes into his dresser when they're out. º Last Column: Yours Truly For Four Easy Payments of $39.95º more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“Seek not greatness, but seek truth and you will find both. If, however, you find a bag that looks like oregano, it's mine. I mean, if the cops ask you, it's not mine, but I am totally holding it for a friend of mine.”
-Ron HorsemannFortune 500 CookieAnother day, another dollar—you should really quit the migrant worker biz for a job where you can make more than a buck a day. Fans of sweaty three-ways with lesbians rejoice, they'll have your video in stock this Thursday. I've been smelling beans all day. That can't be just me. Lucky Lucianos will be Angelo, Salvatore, Emilio, and Gary.
Try again later.How Did Rat Poison Get in Food for Dogs & Cats?| 1. | Particularly sly British mouse known only as Nigel | | 2. | Adult illiteracy: Secret shame of the pet food industry | | 3. | Turned back for one minute; Islamic fundamentalists cats & dogs go shithouse on production line | | 4. | Mislabeled bags were manufactured for special Ted Nugent brand of pet food | | 5. | One man determined to get the fucking dog to play dead already | |
|   Texans to Rain Clouds: Don't Mess with Texas BY red koopman 7/8/2002 The House Won't Let You OutThe sun dragged its lazy ass across the dewy morning grass. It was early in Popafohka Falls, the kind of early writers think everybody loves to hear described in tired old ways.
State Trooper Kemp DuhFarge drove up to the empty old Victorian House and stopped his car. It was a routine call, even if the house was supposed to be haunted, like all the kids in the neighborhood said, even that one kind of strange kid that seemed to be in touch with a dark indescribable force. But that kind of talk was for kids, and Kemp DuhFarge was a grown-up—a full-grown State Trooper with a gun and flashlight that were standard issue in this old fictional New England town.
Kemp knocked on the door, "shave and a haircut". He waited, but no one answered, so he naturally opened the d...
The sun dragged its lazy ass across the dewy morning grass. It was early in Popafohka Falls, the kind of early writers think everybody loves to hear described in tired old ways.
State Trooper Kemp DuhFarge drove up to the empty old Victorian House and stopped his car. It was a routine call, even if the house was supposed to be haunted, like all the kids in the neighborhood said, even that one kind of strange kid that seemed to be in touch with a dark indescribable force. But that kind of talk was for kids, and Kemp DuhFarge was a grown-up—a full-grown State Trooper with a gun and flashlight that were standard issue in this old fictional New England town.
Kemp knocked on the door, "shave and a haircut". He waited, but no one answered, so he naturally opened the door and went inside without being invited. "Hello?" he called out, hearing no response in return. "Hello?" he repeated, without any further response. "Hello!" he demanded, but no greeting was issued.
"This is Kemp DuhFarge of the State Police. I found a dead man without a head a mile down the road and came to see if anyone here saw anything or might have been involved in some fashion. It made a lot of sense, but now I feel a bit awkward seeing as how I don't even know who lives here and have yet to hear a response. Listen to me, acting all weird and justifying myself to you—who the hell do you think you are? I don't have to answer your questions. It's police business. So do you know something or not?"
But there was no answer.
Suddenly, the door swung open swiftly and the last thing Kemp saw before falling backwards was the shine of silver on a well-sharpened ax blade. Terror!
Kemp went to draw his gun, but he would have been dead had the ax blade been wielded by an otherworldly creature who wanted to murder him. Instead the ax was held by the smallish weird boy described a little earlier. Kemp realized there was no danger, and the author realized he had blown his horror load quickly and allowed himself another 40 pages of creeping suspense before the monster had to appear.
"Boy, what are you doing here?" asked Kemp, taking the ax from the boy.
"Leave quickly. They know you're here," the boy said in a soft, boyish voice.
"You scared the hell out of me," Kemp stated matter-of-factly. The boy appeared frightened and white, even for a white boy. "What's the matter with you? You look like you seen a ghost."
The boy said something cryptic to the effect that maybe he possibly had, though I'm not exactly sure how to phrase it.
"A ghost?" repeated Kemp. "What horseshit."
The door suddenly slammed shut and locked itself. The windows locked themselves and the glass became unbreakable through mystical means. Kemp the State Trooper drew a deep breath and asked aloud who was there, who else was in the house with him and the boy, stupidly neglecting the information about the ghost he had just been exposed to.
"It's no use now," said the boy, running up the stairs for unclear reasons. "They know you're here. You can't leave!"
Kemp chased the boy upstairs, wishing he had shot him when he jumped out with the ax like that guy in the department who killed the kid with the toy gun. But he had disappeared. He was nowhere to be seen and Kemp was here, alone, trapped in the inescapable house with something I haven't quite defined the nature of.   |
