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Stupid Pakistan Won't Let Us Chase Stupid Terrorists into Their Stupid BordersWhole stupid country just exceedingly stupid January 6, 2003 |
Mushareif, Pakistan Snapper McGee Yeah, that's a great military outfit, dipshit. No one wants your stupid borders anyway.
Information Minister Sheikh Rashid "Queerbait" Ahmed lied through his crooked teeth and told reporters that Pakistan never gave the U.S. consent to pursue suspected terrorists and Taliban mooks into their country's borders from neighboring Afghanistan. This is complete bullshit, according to virtually everybody.
The bald-faced lie follows a December 29 incident when a lousy terrorist shot an American soldier near the Pakistani-Afghanani border. We dropped bombs on the suspected asshole and the big Pakistan babies whined that one of them fell in their country. Like they could even t...
he retarded government of Pakistan revealed their true terrorist-loving colors Saturday when they Indian-gave permission to the United States to chase terrorists within their borders.
Information Minister Sheikh Rashid "Queerbait" Ahmed lied through his crooked teeth and told reporters that Pakistan never gave the U.S. consent to pursue suspected terrorists and Taliban mooks into their country's borders from neighboring Afghanistan. This is complete bullshit, according to virtually everybody.
The bald-faced lie follows a December 29 incident when a lousy terrorist shot an American soldier near the Pakistani-Afghanani border. We dropped bombs on the suspected asshole and the big Pakistan babies whined that one of them fell in their country. Like they could even tell one bomb apart from the thousands of home-made ones just lying about.
The policy of "hot pursuit" has been in place since March of 2002, when the United States government issued the order that terrorists could be chased across the Pakistani-Afghanattistani border if a reasonable suspicion existed. According to the Pentagon, the hot pursuit policy was agreed on by Pakistan and the United States.
The policy was hotly disputed by dumbass Pakistani muslims, who hate us and everything we do no matter what, and now the government has stated that it never approved the U.S. policy of hot pursuit. What dicks, according to inside sources.
Hot pursuit is an extremely important policy to the stabilization of Afghanistan, the elimination of terrorists within the borders of ally countries, and the War on Terror, according to Pentagon strategist General Wembley Admission.
"It is imperative that our boys have the complete and unquestioning support of Pakistan and its military," stated Admission. "No country benefits from the continued presence of terrorists. Pakistan would be doing a service to its people and itself by allowing our soldiers access to their country in pursuits. But don't take my word for it… ask my friend here."
Admission then slowly, inspiringly looked over his shoulder to a large waving flag hanging outside his window. There was not a dry eye in the room, sources said.
"Hot pursuit" expert Roscoe P. Coltrane of Hazzard Country could not be reached for a quote, but has been quoted elsewhere in reference to the policy, saying, "Coo' coo'! Hot pursuit! Let's go, Flash!"
When prank-called for a response, the Pakistani Ministry of Information repeatedly asked who we were and who we worked for. The name "Heywood Jablomie" was not accepted and the giggling gave us away before we could reach anyone for a quote. the commune news has been known to pursue suspected enemies into the offices of downstairs neighbor Crochet! magazine in pursuant with our "Screw Crochet! magazine" policy. Foreign correspondent Ivan Nacutchacokov wired us this story from Pakistan, but fiercely patriotic Ted Ted thought it needed "more punch."
 |  January 6, 2003 |
commune offices COMMUNE ART DEPT. Some of the newsmakers that helped make 2002 exactly 365 days long.
Yes, as we reach the beginning of a brand new news year, we look back on 2002 with more than a slight Elvis sneer of derision, like a party guest finally leaving with a heavy hangover and leaving our sofa and rug stained with vomit. 2002 may go down in the history books as, “The Year of ‘…Anyway…’”
Like a half-assed sitcom following Friends and preceding ER, much of 2002 felt squashed in-between two major news periods. Following hot on the heels of the events of Sept. 11th and the bombing of Afghanistan that heralded the War on Terror, things settled down into a dreary boredom in 2002 as Americans waited for big news events that still have yet to come&#...
002 was a banner year for news. As long as the banner said, “BO-RING!” Yes, as we reach the beginning of a brand new news year, we look back on 2002 with more than a slight Elvis sneer of derision, like a party guest finally leaving with a heavy hangover and leaving our sofa and rug stained with vomit. 2002 may go down in the history books as, “The Year of ‘…Anyway…’” Like a half-assed sitcom following Friends and preceding ER, much of 2002 felt squashed in-between two major news periods. Following hot on the heels of the events of Sept. 11 th and the bombing of Afghanistan that heralded the War on Terror, things settled down into a dreary boredom in 2002 as Americans waited for big news events that still have yet to come—the bombing of Iraq, a resolution to the North Korea situation, and any evidence Osama bin Laden is alive or dead. All original and fascinating news is being greedily reserved by the newsmakers, as if they’re holding out for a news sweeps week. Early 2002 was host to the Winter Olympics, the globally-conceded most boring of all Olympics, in the globally-conceded most boring state in the union, Utah. Thank whatever you call a God for the much-covered flap when ice-skating Canadians David Pelletier and Jamie Salé were robbed of their rightful gold medal by a sly-footed French judge, or your only memories of it would be a gaggle of fruitcakes slapping a puck with a stick in the atrocity called “curling.” Much of the early news year was limited to the images of Enron’s senior staff shrugging before a Senate sub-committee with a less-than-convincing “I dunno,” followed by footage of a shrapnel-filled site in downtown Israel as the violence that made the Middle East famous escalated to ludicrous heights, until an all-out assault on Yassir Arafat’s bunker broke the boredom very briefly. There was also Ray Brent Marsh, the Georgia crematorium owner who tossed the bodies in the lake and passed the savings on to you. Thanks to Marsh, along with multiple kidslaughter defendant Andrea Yates and the hockey dad who loved local sports a bit too much, the first few months of 2002 news were occasionally livened up by local heroes. An historical Oscar win for Best Actor and Best Actress by African-Americans Denzel Washington and Halle Berry helped draw attention away from the fact the Hollywood community now considers Opie the Best Director in its midst. Even the biggest celebrity murderer of the year was only former Little Rascal Robert Blake, leaving Court-TV to wait patiently for the shoplifting trial of Winona Ryder. Summer gave everyone a little hope for a brighter news year when nine miners faced certain doom, trapped in a mine shaft, and no one was happier when they were retrieved alive and healthy. Then the week ended and everyone went back to bitching about terrorism and the tumbling stock market. As the rate of insane presidential utterances concerning Iraq increased, Americans hit the peak of the news year when a series of sniper attacks across America finally put an end to superfluous Elvis coverage. However, it wasn’t enough to save a pisser as a news year, and after the sniper suspects were arrested America quieted once again. Republicans received a boost from a record low-voter turnout off-year election and Trent Lott’s ill-conceived pro-segregationist remarks embarrassed the Bush administration, something that is truly hard to do. News pundits have a great case for 21 st century to be the most boring yet, but the commune news is quick to remind everyone 1901-1910 was a pretty crappy decade for news and the 20 th century didn’t heat up until the sinking of the Titanic and World War I. We can make this one even better, just keep working at it. the commune news ushers in a brand new year, flashlight in hand, and making sure there’s no kids ducked behind the seats. Ramrod Hurley is the commune Acting Editor and, we must say, quite an Acting Ass, too.
| Study finds low I.Q. causes lead paint eating, not other way around |
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 January 20, 2003 Hello From Robot ApartmentHello, country!
Boris is returned with more column. Nice of you asking Boris fine! Yes, yes.
Boris is lovely with life in new country. Already life like exciting rollingcoaster. One time, you say "Hey, this is fun, I am in crazy train car!" and thensoon another time "Make stop! Make stop for Boris to shit!" and hanging onlittle children while mother hits with purse. This is like Boris life. One dayBoris is living orange castle in special room for honor of brooms, next day bigmustache man is catching Boris with net. Time for move, Boris!
But lucky as duck is Boris, for not long am outside when meeting Louis. Louis isfriend who also is robot. Boris meet first robot friend in life! Yay is party!Louis stand on street and make noise like robot sound "Brrrrrrt!" ...
º Last Column: Coming Inside America
º more columns
Hello, country! Boris is returned with more column. Nice of you asking Boris fine! Yes, yes. Boris is lovely with life in new country. Already life like exciting rollingcoaster. One time, you say "Hey, this is fun, I am in crazy train car!" and thensoon another time "Make stop! Make stop for Boris to shit!" and hanging onlittle children while mother hits with purse. This is like Boris life. One dayBoris is living orange castle in special room for honor of brooms, next day bigmustache man is catching Boris with net. Time for move, Boris! But lucky as duck is Boris, for not long am outside when meeting Louis. Louis isfriend who also is robot. Boris meet first robot friend in life! Yay is party!Louis stand on street and make noise like robot sound "Brrrrrrt!" and move armslike robot arms. And people who are near give Louis robot money. Is true! Isexpensive to look at robot in America. Soon Louis is Boris friend like no surprise, robots always like Boris. And herent room to Boris in beautiful apartment! Boris have room with light on stringand many coats to choose when cold. Hooray for Boris! Now Boris like real citizen, even him getting mail. Boris get book of bras inmail! Beautiful book with pictures, and many stories of different bras andcolors. Louis say "Boris this is junk mail! Not for hanging on wall!" Oh ha ha.Funny time for misunderstanding. Boris have much sex fun with junk mail. Boris love very much T.V. commercial. Like little movie is free. What willhappen if kitchen is dirty? Aha! Little soap monsters come eat kitchen dirt!Boris love that part every time. What will happen if grandma is old? Look out!Little ones will call grandma who is old on telephones. What a happy movie. America life is very much pleasing to Boris. Beautiful country with soft,fuzzing floors to sleep which on. And for working, Boris go to library and buybook on microwaves, and is yelling "No control mind of Bagel Red, who is me! Goto hell with book, honkies!" and walk out with pants on ankles. Boris find truecalling telephone at last. Not like in Homeland, where Boris work to put coal in piles of coal. All day,working to stack up the dirty coal, never taking break. And mean persons withboots yell at Boris all day, no fun. "Hey, asshole man! You come back with the coal that is not yours! I kill youhard!" And Boris is always running. In America, no running. Only with boyfriendmisunderstanding is there running in America. Funny big men who thinks Boris iswant to rob girlfriend, crazy things. Boris tell them "No no, Boris only wantingfun sex time, no funny businesses." But language is hard, funny men think Boriswant to steal purse or necklace. Like Boris wears such thing! So, Boris is running. Funny sometimes that life is staying same. º Last Column: Coming Inside Americaº 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 | |
|   Failed Experiment Produces Hideous Miniature Clone BY albert forrest hyne 1/20/2003 The Tell-Tale Cell PhoneTRUE! I am shitting bricks like some kind of gigantic house-building robot, but does that make me crazy? Fuck you if you say I'm crazy! Fuck you and all of your crazy-saying friends! Fuck you right in the antelope! Yeah, I'm crazy like the bionic man was crazy. I can see through walls, motherfucker! You come and get some of this, I'll hear your eyelashes rub together when you reach for the car door! I'll drop a safe on your ass, and I'm not talking about some little file folder box with a lock on it, I mean one of those huge goddamned gun safes you could fit a Samoan in! Still think I'm crazy? Step a little to the left, motherfucker!
I don't know why I did it, okay? People do some fucked-up shit after snorting a pound of coke. I knew a guy once who tried to paint a house wit...
TRUE! I am shitting bricks like some kind of gigantic house-building robot, but does that make me crazy? Fuck you if you say I'm crazy! Fuck you and all of your crazy-saying friends! Fuck you right in the antelope! Yeah, I'm crazy like the bionic man was crazy. I can see through walls, motherfucker! You come and get some of this, I'll hear your eyelashes rub together when you reach for the car door! I'll drop a safe on your ass, and I'm not talking about some little file folder box with a lock on it, I mean one of those huge goddamned gun safes you could fit a Samoan in! Still think I'm crazy? Step a little to the left, motherfucker!
I don't know why I did it, okay? People do some fucked-up shit after snorting a pound of coke. I knew a guy once who tried to paint a house with his dick, I'm just sayin' it gives you some strange ideas. It's true, I never had a problem with Ernesto. He was always okay by me. But tonight he showed up and he had the ringer on his goddamned cell phone playing "Somewhere Out There" and that thing was ringing like every two SECONDS. At first I figured people would eventually stop calling him but then his bitch of a girlfriend kept calling every two minutes to see if he loved her yet and that thing drove me out of my mind like in a Ferrari.
Finally I got pissed and asked him why he didn't put the thing on vibrate before I had to club him to death with a jack handle, but he said he couldn't because he had a can of Red Bull in his pocket and he didn't want the thing to get shook up and jizz all over his new pants. This seemed fair enough, but still that phone was DRIVING ME FUCKING CRAZY and I asked him if he could change the ringer to something else, like something by the Baha Boys or Shaggy or whatever, anything really. But he was a prick and wouldn't change it so I had to club him to death with a jack handle.
Would you still think me crazy if I told you how cunningly I disposed of the body? If you looked in the dictionary to check and make sure cunningly was really a word, and it turned out it was, what would you think then? A madman would have attempted to dispose of the body in some crazy way, like shooting it out of a cannon or trying to inflate it with helium so it would float away. Or putting fake cardboard ears on the head and saying "My dog got hit by a car!" But not I, who is not mad. I buried that novelty-ringing fucker in the bathroom. And if anyone questions the uneven tile floor in there, I will tell them I have moles. The animal kind.
Just then there came a knock at the door, and it was Terrance and his brother Marcus. At first I told them to fuck off, because Marcus is the dick who never returned my Shirelles tape, but then I realized how that might look so I invited them in. We hung out for a while talking about thong underwears and that was cool, but Marcus was going on so long my ears started to ring. Then after a while I realized it wasn't my ears at all, there was a faint ringing sound in the air, impossible to locate or ignore. That's when it hit me. THE PHONE!
Terrance scrunched up his nose when he heard it too.
"Hey man, is Ernesto here? That sounds like his goddamned phone. I hate that fuckin' thing."
"No!" I told him. "And why are you asking such stupid fucking questions? Damn is you stupid. If Ernesto was here, why wouldn't he be out here with us? What, you think he's hiding in the bathroom or something? Shit. If Ernesto was here, I'd beat his ass to death with a jack handle, that's how not here he is."
I had covered my tracks deftly but still, the phone rang on. Again and AGAIN. That stupid bitch girlfriend! Couldn't she take a hint that he was dead? By now it was becoming impossible to ignore or deny it, Ernesto's annoying goddamn phone was in my apartment somewhere! At first I had Terrence and Marcus convinced that it was just me humming "Somewhere Out There," but then Marcus asked how come I could hum and drink beer at the same time, was I some kind of ventriloqueer or something?
SHIT!! They KNEW! My eyes darted around the room for something else to blame the ringing on as it grew louder and louder. In an instant it was deafening! My head was pounding as Terrence and Marcus laughed and talked about Barbershop. Were they fucking with me?? They had to know, and now they were fucking with me! Those pricks!
"Alright you cocksuckers!" I shouted. "I confess!"
The both looked at me with genuine puzzlement. Hmm.
"I, uh… haven't seen Barbershop yet."
"Well, shit dog," smiled Terrence. "Get your coat man, we goin'."   |
