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Oakland Beats Tampa BayRaider Nation claims moral victory over wussy-baby Tampa Bay February 3, 2003 |
Oakland, California Whit Pistol Raiders fans make like their team's namesake and abscond with some primo shwag.
Meanwhile, in Tampa Bay, Florida's "Bay Area," exactly one person was arrested: a dyed-blonde Miss Thang who was baring her implants to the crowd gathered to celebrate the Buccaneers' first-ever Super Bowl championship.
Asked to comment, Oakland riot-participant Hector Ba...
n the battle of post-game celebrations, the fans in Tampa Bay have nothing on the spirited Oakland fans. Sunday night, following the Raiders' loss to the Bucs, East Oakland sizzled and burned with young rowdies demonstrating their loyalty to the hometown team by trashing and looting stores, burning cars and spinning doughnuts in intersections all up and down International Blvd. More than 80 people were arrested in the melee, most for vandalism, destroying public property, or public drunkenness.
Meanwhile, in Tampa Bay, Florida's "Bay Area," exactly one person was arrested: a dyed-blonde Miss Thang who was baring her implants to the crowd gathered to celebrate the Buccaneers' first-ever Super Bowl championship.
Asked to comment, Oakland riot-participant Hector Barbazino said, "They only had one arrest down there? Day-um, bro! And it was for what? Some bitch flashin' her titties? Oh, that ain't right, yo."
"That ain't cool at all, man," added Barbazino's cousin, Ricky Ledora. "Shee-it, they ought to come to Oaktown and see how we get down here, yo. Look at Carlos over there in the chopped Toyota, yo, his bitch LaShanté be hangin' out the sunroof all damn night, and she butt-naked, man! Butt-naked!"
"Oh, yeah, bro. Bitches be throwin' they titties on my windshield for hours, yo. Pressed titties on glass, what I'm talkin' about." Barbazino commented, as he poured lighter fluid all over a parked Subaru station wagon and set a match to it. "Word, homes. If Ray-Ray didn't had to take my ride to go pick up his baby-mama before ten, we'd still be gettin' it, them titties on glass."
The word from Tampa Bay was that, other than the breast-baring incident, not a lot of carrying-on occurred. City residents marched a few times around the three blocks of the downtown area, some of them carrying American flags and singing "God Bless America," and a few people were observed drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade from bottles hidden in brown paper bags. After an hour of this, most of the crowd dispersed and went home to watch Alias.
In Oakland, however, it was a different story. The large crowd merrily jumped on moving cars, broke windows and set fires for hours. When the mob energy began to wane, police fired tear gas, rubber bullets and wooden dowels in an attempt to further incite the crowd and egg them on to new heights of destruction throughout the night.
"Come on, you miserable bastards!" shouted Sergeant Arnie Cocklip at the crowd, as he fired his service revolver in the air. "Let's show the world how we kick heiney in Oakland. We're number friggin' one, goddamnit! Break something! Burn something down!"
Reluctantly, the worn out crowd complied with police orders and thoroughly trashed a nearby McDonald's, a Kelly-Moore paint store and the Gomes Tire and Service Center. Said one young reveler, Jose Chingamadre, "After we burned the three Chevys over on 151st, and threw bricks through the window of the day-care center there, I was ready to go home and watch Alias. But then the cops made us stay out here and keep going. Man, those dudes are like hard-asses, you know?"
Damage in Oakland was estimated at over $100,000, with the police that were present throughout the night gathering the day after to vote on which of the rioters would receive a full share, and which only half shares. "Them little slacking sonsabitches that only broke a couple windows or just missed a pedestrian while they were spinning doughnuts think they're getting a full share, they better think again. Punk-ass bitches gotta show me something special to get that," Sergeant Cocklip explained. the commune news had a sympathy riot Sunday, trashing the offices of downstairs neighbor Crochet! magazine. "Thank Christ Lil Duncan wasn't here to see this," said Stigmata Spent, after most of the crowd had finally dispersed in the dawn's light. "There wouldn't be a solid pane of glass left within two miles of here if she'd been assigned to this story."
 | North Korea to Nuke South Korea, Themselves February 3, 2003 |
Lilliput, North Korea Junior Bacon Kim Jong Il asks reporter to pick in which hand is cookie
Kim was quoted by a drunken German reporter as saying “You Amelicans so clazy! We nukes you in the Mickey Mouse!”
Experts on the Korean situation insist that...
crewball North Korean leader Kim Jong Il confused the world yesterday by threatening to nuke South Korea, moments before humping a life-sized cardboard cut-out of Marilyn Monroe in front of thousands of onlookers and international news goons. The time-killing standoff between North Korea and the U.S. sped up a tick when Kim, galled by the United States’ demands for the scrapping of his nuclear arms program and South Korea’s calls for a compromise on the matter, pledged to bomb his southern neighbor, and by its close geographical proximity, his own country, to prove to the world that he means business. Kim was quoted by a drunken German reporter as saying “You Amelicans so clazy! We nukes you in the Mickey Mouse!” Experts on the Korean situation insist that Kim is serious, in spite of how goofy he looks. They claim that North Korea has the means, the will, and the lack of parental supervision to follow through with its deadly plan. People totally ignorant to the situation, however, insist that he’s full of shit and is probably just taking the country for a joyride while his dad is away on business or something. Potent images of Kim Jong Il dancing around in his underwear to the tune of Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock & Roll” aside, this reporter had more pressing questions for the North Korean dictator. Like, what the fuck’s up with that name? Isn’t Kim supposed to be a chick name? I bet that got his ass karated in grade school. Unfortunately, Kim could not be reached for comment on this or other girly-name topics. A source speaking under the condition of anonymity had this to say: “I ain’t shittin’ you, man, this shit’s got to be anonymous, I’m not even kidding. Cause what I gots to say is hotter than Halle Berry with some kind of malarian fever, know what I’m sayin’? Shit. So if I read in your paper that Leroy said this, I come to kill your non-confidentiating ass, dig?” Kim’s announcement was followed by a gala parade and fireworks show featuring workers dressed as large Korean knock-offs of Muppets with names like Grover the Dog and Mrs. Frogfuck. While Kim snacked on royal salmon caught in the vaginas of beautiful women and wine that had gold flakes dissolved in it just for shits and giggles, acrobats flipped through the air and less graceful workers held up flags detailing the glorious nuking of South Korea and the beautiful fallout that would soon spread to the victorious North. The Mardi Gras atmosphere was marred somewhat by the genital electrocution of several parade workers who dishonored the state by pronouncing the “R” in Korea, but spirits rose quickly when a dancing bear wearing a sombrero rolled in on top of a huge rubber ball while wearing a “Made in Korea” tee shirt. The finale and highlight of the evening was the forced labor-camp imprisonment of anyone who had ever been to South Korea, and their families. the commune news did shoot the sheriff, but he was dressed like our ex-wife at the time. Mordecai “Three Finger” Brown didn’t think North Korea was that bad, especially if you have a thing for haunting half-crazed dictators. Overall he gives it a seven, scoring well above his assignment in Texas last summer.
| Study finds low I.Q. causes lead paint eating, not other way around |
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 February 3, 2003 Yuppies Driving Douches"I've got the keys to the kingdom, if the kingdom is a '73 Dodge Dart."
I'd like to get a motorcycle but I'm just not the "motorcycle type." At least that's what the guy at the motorcycle shop told me. He said if he saw me riding around on a motorcycle him and his friends would personally see to it I got my ass kicked. So that was enough to put me off motorcycles. Maybe if I hear he's moved or something I'll look at getting one again. One of those ninja motorcycles, but I can't remember what they're called.
I've been a proud Dodge Dart owner since 1995. I've owned the car 25 years, but I just figured it was time to be proud of it around '95. It wasn't going to change anything to pretend I didn't own it when it was parked out front and all the yelling and sh...
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"I've got the keys to the kingdom, if the kingdom is a '73 Dodge Dart."
I'd like to get a motorcycle but I'm just not the "motorcycle type." At least that's what the guy at the motorcycle shop told me. He said if he saw me riding around on a motorcycle him and his friends would personally see to it I got my ass kicked. So that was enough to put me off motorcycles. Maybe if I hear he's moved or something I'll look at getting one again. One of those ninja motorcycles, but I can't remember what they're called.
I've been a proud Dodge Dart owner since 1995. I've owned the car 25 years, but I just figured it was time to be proud of it around '95. It wasn't going to change anything to pretend I didn't own it when it was parked out front and all the yelling and shouting of obscenities toward it only worked in reverse and people were sure it was mine.
It's cool, though, because sometimes I find things in between the seats when I go looking. I found a Playboy issue with a Jimmy Carter interview with all the good parts edited out. There was a pro-union button which means maybe that guy who sold it to me was telling me the truth about Jimmy Hoffa owning the car before. Or maybe the guy said the car was so dirty Jimmy Hoffa was probably inside somewhere. It was something to do with Jimmy Hoffa, or Jimmy Walker. Whichever was on Good Times.
Have you ever gotten your dick stuck in a car's exhaust pipe? Me neither, of course, but it would be funny to see. I don't think it will ever happen, not as long as they keep making these modern cars with huge exhaust pipes.
If I were to ever sell the Dart, I don't know what I'd like to get. Everybody's getting these SUVs, but I don't want to get a car I have to spell out everytime I'm telling the guy at the impound lot which one I came to pick up. It sounds dumb, but at first I thought they were Spanish cars by the way they're pronounced. I wonder if there is a word in Spanish that sounds like SUV. It would be funny if the Mexicans thought all these yuppies were talking about driving douches to work or something.
I suppose I don't care what kind of car I got as long it had power steering and doors. The doors especially would be a necessary 'cause I hate the way I keep flying out of the Dodge whenever I make sharp turns. The cops tell me I should wear my seatbelt and I tell them I don't live in Afghanistan, Joe Friday.
Did you know there's a homepage for Dodge Darts? It's at www.dodgedart.org. This is why it's so hard to find porn on the internet—the place is glutted with useless crap. º Last Column: Duck's Assº more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel. The second to last refuge of the scoundrel is a cave in the Ozarks. Third to last? Under the bed in a four-star hotel in Paris. Fourth? Puns. Puns are the fourth-to-last refuge of the scoundrel.”
-Johnuel SamsonFortune 500 CookieWhoever cut your jib, they fucked it all up, dude. Try wearing more spandex this week, your current quantities aren't providing sufficient coverage. Remember: an ounce of prevention is worth an inch of milk-fed veal. This week's lucky pizza restaurant mascots: The Noidette, Little Greaser, Humpy the Pizza Camel, "Cheese Dick" Richard Romano, Lumpy-Thighed Sex Goddess Valotta Ricotta.
Try again later.Top Racially Insensitive Desserts| 1. | Mint Jew Lips | | 2. | Negroreos | | 3. | Vanilla Dick | | 4. | Mr. Li's Chocolate Chink Ice Cream | | 5. | The Dirty Spaniard Sundae from Baskin Robbins | |
|   Cambodian Football Fans Riot, Burn Thai Embassy BY roland mcshyster 2/3/2003 Well Hop on Pop, it's time for another installment of Entertainment Police. I guess we just couldn't hold it in any longer. Feast your eyes (and if you really are, literally, feasting your eyes, drop me an email because that sounds freaky as hell and I'm curious as to how it works) on the latest and, by default, greatest films that Hollywood is wedging in between Coke commercials this week:
In Theaters
Final Destination 2
Raise your hand if you knew there was a Final Destination 1. At first I thought this might be one of those joke titles like Leonard Part 6 or Jaws 2, but then I realized it wasn't funny, so there must really be a first film. I asked around and nobody h...
Well Hop on Pop, it's time for another installment of Entertainment Police. I guess we just couldn't hold it in any longer. Feast your eyes (and if you really are, literally, feasting your eyes, drop me an email because that sounds freaky as hell and I'm curious as to how it works) on the latest and, by default, greatest films that Hollywood is wedging in between Coke commercials this week:
In Theaters
Final Destination 2
Raise your hand if you knew there was a Final Destination 1. At first I thought this might be one of those joke titles like Leonard Part 6 or Jaws 2, but then I realized it wasn't funny, so there must really be a first film. I asked around and nobody had heard of it, but somebody told me to check the Internet Movie Database, some sort of government Big Brother thing where they list every movie that anyone has even thought of making. I thanked the guy, of course, but couldn't get behind his back to make the cuckoo faces fast enough. What a freak. Like anybody cares that much about movies. Most directors can't even remember most of their films, and let me remind you, they're the ones getting paid. So anyway, the only conclusion I could come to was that there never was a Final Destination 1, but for some reason the studio wants us to believe there was. Like maybe if we can't remember the first one sucking, we'll figure it was good and be eager to see the sequel. A clever ploy, probably the smartest thing Hollywood has done since making the smallest soda size bigger than any human bladder, so you have to pay to see 9 ½ Weeks twice to catch the part you missed while you were pissing out in the hallway. But anyway, now that I've deflated the silicone out of their fake-boob premise, the real question is, should you want to see Final Destination 2? There's another question in there, too, which is if this film is a hit, will they call the next film Final Destination 3 or just admit the ruse and call it Final Destination 2 again? My guess is that they'll dodge that bullet altogether and go with some safe bullshit title like Finaler Destination or My Big Fat Final Destination. But getting back to the original question, the answer is: six.
The Recut
Al Pacino and Colin Farrell star in this boldly experimental film about Al Pacino being Al Pacino. And the funny thing is that I don't think Al Pacino's really even in the movie at all, the whole thing is just a bunch of famous scenes from Al Pacino's other movies cut together. Average white man Colin Farrell is computer-dumped into every scene to add continuity, using the same technology they used to treat us to John Wayne crapping in a beer commercial and Gandhi telling us why he'd drive a Volvo. The result is startlingly similar to Al Pacino's last eighteen films, at a fraction of the cost. Will this bold experiment in giving viewers exactly what they want pay off? That's hard to say, but I did love the parts where Farrell ad-libs and makes it sound like Pacino's talking about something other than what he was in the original films, like when Pacino's famous "Just when I think I'm out…" speech from The Godfather of Soul becomes about him mud-wrestling with Barbara Bush and Margaret Thatcher on peyote.
Shanghai Knights
This isn't the first time a poorly conceived theme restaurant has been made into a movie, and unless somebody was killed by a helicopter while they were filming, this probably won't be the last. But this film certainly deserves its claim to fame as the most recent. An offshoot of those annoying restaurants where yuppies pay to eat with no silverware while a bunch of gay failed actors bash about with swords and armor and people pretend like they're having fun, the Shanghai Knights chain at least made the improvement of offering Chinese food. The upshot here was that even in those backwards historical times the Chinese knew what the hell silverware was, even if they thought it was chopsticks. But how to translate this improvement into movie success? Well, you could do worse than casting the likeably gay duo of awkward nose model Owen Wilson ( Dennis the Menace, The Math Man) and Attention Deficit Asian Jackie Chan ( Ladder Fight Disco, The Underpants) in the lead roles, and surrounding them by an able supporting cast that falls down in charming ways. The script is a little on the thin side, but that's to be expected as it was based on a menu. However, even with all its shortcomings, this film is a marked improvement over previous efforts in the genre, such as the unfortunate Steak Knight and the truly wretched Eat Your Chicken or Die.
In order to keep up with the prevailing trends in Hollywood as of late, I've decided to open up some new revenue streams for the column by inserting product placements and some ads here and there, you know, because nobody gives a shit anymore. So as I sit here and drink my Gnert‡ cola and sniff some Elmer's‡² glue while I ponder the mid-winter movie season, let me be the first to suggest that it'd be awfully nice to have my cock sucked by a hooker‡³ right about now, maybe while I was smoking some crack†. Yeah, that would definitely help these movies go down smoother.   |
