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Limbaugh Insists Media Playing Up 'White Drug Addict' AngleLiberal media loves a chunky junkie, claims conservative October 13, 2003 |
West Palm Beach, Florida Snapper McGee Talk show host Limbaugh, addressing allegations at Philadelphia broadcaster's convention, falls for reporter's old "who wants free speed?" trick. harming conservative hard-ass Rush Limbaugh is angry with the American media's harping on his admission of painkiller abuse this week, claiming the focus on his addiction stems from the media's attempt to promote a white Republican drug addict.
Limbaugh answered accusations from reporters with his trademark, "You know how liberals are…" before launching into his defense. Addressing reporters by telephone from a minimum-security rehab facility, the talk show host and political pundit, irrelevantly 52, claimed the story was exaggerated.
"You know how liberals are. They run the media, of course, we all know this, and there's nothing they love more than bringing down white people. They were behind such evil as the Clinton presidency, the success of Donovan McNabb,...
harming conservative hard-ass Rush Limbaugh is angry with the American media's harping on his admission of painkiller abuse this week, claiming the focus on his addiction stems from the media's attempt to promote a white Republican drug addict.
Limbaugh answered accusations from reporters with his trademark, "You know how liberals are…" before launching into his defense. Addressing reporters by telephone from a minimum-security rehab facility, the talk show host and political pundit, irrelevantly 52, claimed the story was exaggerated.
"You know how liberals are. They run the media, of course, we all know this, and there's nothing they love more than bringing down white people. They were behind such evil as the Clinton presidency, the success of Donovan McNabb, and my leaving ESPN. Though, frankly, those SportsCenter guys were starting to get on my nerves," announced Rush, following quickly with the proclamation he had lost 5 pounds during the statement alone.
The revelation of illegal substance abuse, or let's say misappropriation of not-quite-legal pep pills, come at a bad time for Limbaugh, who quit sports network ESPN after statements he made about the unearned success of quarterback Donovan McNabb sparked controversy. The media, the tubby conservative claimed, engineered his exit by blowing his words out of proportion, stupid as they might be, and they were trying to further humiliate him by taking his usage of thousands of Oxycontin and Lorcet pills over the years out of context.
"You know how liberals are," said the husky speed addict.
"Common sense allows us to put things into perspective. These are prescription pills, they're just not prescribed to me. It's not like I'm doing blow or shooting heroin into my eyeballs. I'm not some ghetto crackhead. I'm a popular Republican talk show host, and the media loves to see conservative white guys get the book thrown at them for trivial infractions. If I was not famous and just a regular white guy, like a federal judge or CEO of a major multinational, I would just have this reduced to a fine and no one would care. But because I'm outspoken and everyone knows me and I'm always right, the liberal media wants to stick it to me, just to erase stereotypes."
Limbaugh, a former fat man now in a modestly chunky man's body, did not find much support with former colleagues at ESPN following the leak of the investigation.
"We are all shocked, it's as best as we can put it," said ESPN spokesperson Robert Fulgham. "We hired Rush three weeks ago. Knowing his history of working in talk radio and making light of liberals, democrats, feminists,
radicals, and basically all non-white people, we thought him to be a terrific sports analyst and commentator who would make broadcasts more lively. The last thing any of us at ESPN ever expected was this kind of insensitivity. When it comes to a quarterback in the year 2003, color is simply not an issue."
Fulgham was politely reminded the issue at hand was actually concerning Limbaugh's use of prescription pills before continuing.
"Oh, yeah," said Fulgham. "Everybody knew he was a big fat pill popper. Did you think he was exercising to kick that ass into shape? C'mon. He would chew handfuls of hydrocone in between five or six Baby Ruths. He had intravenous
coffee intake. It's not really a secret if you work with the guy. You don't want to get me started on those SportsCenter guys and what they do around the place." the commune news is happy to wish Rush Limbaugh a speedy rehabilitation, and looks forward to the great tell-all book it'll lead to. Bludney Pludd is some kind of correspondent, and frankly, we thought we had gotten rid of him, but we're not like pissed or anything to see him still around. Not really pissed or anything.
| Scientists Say No, Really, Universe Shaped Like Soccer BallAstronomical breakthrough hard to believe October 13, 2003 |
This universe is brought to you by Spalding ccording to U.S. and French researchers reporting in the science journal Nature last Thursday, the universe is shaped like a giant soccer ball, patched together out of a dozen spherical pentagons. No, really.
Data from NASA's Wilkinson Microwave Anisotropy Probe, a device the researchers insist is made entirely of tapioca, has indicated that the universe is finite and symmetrical. The probe maps background radiation left over from the Big Bang, the interstellar genesis event that occurred over 20 years ago, according to researchers.
The same researchers also indicated that regularly ingesting expensive sugar pills will cause your cock to grow big and hard like a redwood. Other revelations discovered by the researchers last week: grizzly bears are terrified ...
ccording to U.S. and French researchers reporting in the science journal Nature last Thursday, the universe is shaped like a giant soccer ball, patched together out of a dozen spherical pentagons. No, really.
Data from NASA's Wilkinson Microwave Anisotropy Probe, a device the researchers insist is made entirely of tapioca, has indicated that the universe is finite and symmetrical. The probe maps background radiation left over from the Big Bang, the interstellar genesis event that occurred over 20 years ago, according to researchers.
The same researchers also indicated that regularly ingesting expensive sugar pills will cause your cock to grow big and hard like a redwood. Other revelations discovered by the researchers last week: grizzly bears are terrified of clowns, nobody can see you if you have your eyes closed, and if you stick your tongue against the railroad tracks in February, no way will it get stuck there.
The argument for a dodecahedral universe, made up of twelve pentagons forming a sphere, is a radical departure from earlier theories. It would also seem to end the fierce debate in the scientific community over whether or not God likes soccer. Previous suggestions about the universe's shape, from Boellinger's Taco Theory to Neumann's assertion that the cosmos is shaped kind of like an abstract pelican, have been proved absurd by this latest data.
"We were just shitting you when we said last year the universe is shaped like Lon Chaney's dong," admitted researcher George Ellis. "It's actually shaped like a soccer ball. Scout's honor!"
Fellow researchers Jeffrey Weeks and Domar Segui, still high from the rush of their groundbreaking discovery, greeted Ellis' announcement with a sustained jag of scientific giggling.
"Totally!" agreed Segui. "A big-ass soccer ball, filled up inside with galaxies shaped like blueberry muffins."
"Oh yeah!" remembered Ellis. "I almost forgot about the muffin galaxies! Most of them are shaped like that, except the one that's shaped like a high-heeled shoe and is made of braunschweiger."
"And candy!" nodded Segui, choking on a licorice whip. "The stars are made of candy and Mars is made of chocolate and nougat!"
"And the Milky Way was douched out of the vagina of the giant space-goddess in 1942!" shouted Weeks above the cacophony, which quickly died down. "Okay, that was going too far," admitted an embarrassed Weeks. the commune news is pear-shaped in general, though we'd like to remind readers that two pears stacked on top of each other do form a vaguely "hourglass" figure, if you squint your eyes. Boner Cunningham is known around the commune offices as an "Idiot Savant," but that's only because most of the staff thinks "savant" is French for "asshole."
| Mark Buckles Some Sort of Cockwad Everyone kind of a little relieved Bob Hope finally dead Yale bombed, Harvard too drunk to walk home Study finds low I.Q. causes lead paint eating, not other way around |
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October 13, 2003 Whale Ass"It's cold enough to make ice cubes in my ears, especially if you like ice cubes that double as candles."
Someone once said, "People will buy anything." He probably didn't think I heard him, he said it kind of under his breath after I finished purchasing a moped with no wheels from him, but whether he wanted me to hear or not, he was right. As the incident with my "noped" proves. It was as true in his time as it is in mine.
You got to give him credit, though, that guy was a good salesman, as well as a good philo softener. He could sell a refrigerator to an Eskimo, I bet, like the saying goes. But that makes sense, I guess. Even if they live in the cold weather it's probably pretty warm in the igloo, otherwise they would freeze do death. Even if it isn't, yo...
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"It's cold enough to make ice cubes in my ears, especially if you like ice cubes that double as candles."
Someone once said, "People will buy anything." He probably didn't think I heard him, he said it kind of under his breath after I finished purchasing a moped with no wheels from him, but whether he wanted me to hear or not, he was right. As the incident with my "noped" proves. It was as true in his time as it is in mine.
You got to give him credit, though, that guy was a good salesman, as well as a good philo softener. He could sell a refrigerator to an Eskimo, I bet, like the saying goes. But that makes sense, I guess. Even if they live in the cold weather it's probably pretty warm in the igloo, otherwise they would freeze do death. Even if it isn't, you've got to put your frozen hamburger somewhere, right? You don't want to just leave it lying around or put it in your underwear drawer. Like the health department guy told me, that's not sanitary.
I do wonder why people would live at the North Pole at all, or any of those Eskimo places. You got to imagine they're the ones who started all these rumors about Santa Claus. 'Cause let's face it, they lose Santa Claus, there's no reason for anybody to go see the North Pole. Just to say they went, I guess, but that means your tourist dollars are coming entirely from pricks. That would suck. Busloads of pricks coming into your frozen tundra every year, getting off wearing their big J. Crew winter parkas, looking around and saying, "Well, this is overrated." No wonder there's so much suicide in cold climates.
Not that I know much about Eskimos. I love the pie they make, but other than that I'm completely in the dark. Their asses and balls are cold, if what people say is true. Just like the well-diggers. I wonder if Eskimos ever thought about traveling south, where they could all get jobs as well-diggers. People are probably tired of the well-diggers complaining about how cold their asses and balls are, but the Eskimo just rolls in like, "Ha! This is cold? You sissy." Then they dig wells. They could make a killing. But really, I don't know how much money there is well-digging now that we can bottle water. All those Eskimos moving to New England for nothing, that would suck.
If someone can sell a refrigerator to an Eskimo, I don't know if that makes them a terrific salesman, really. I don't know nothing about Eskimos. For a long time when people said that, "He could sell a refrigerator to an Eskimo," I thought they were just saying Eskimos were crazy people. Living inside ice houses, buying refrigerators, eating whale ass. These fuckers were probably buying all sorts of shit they didn't need. Subscriptions to People, electric hat rack, radioactive butter. They were just crazy, but crazy in a cool way, like wild and can't be restrained.
Hence the phrase, "He fights like an Eskimo!" Which never caught on, no matter how I tried to drop it everywhere. Better luck next time. º Last Column: Losing for Dummiesº more columns |
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Milestones1979: Some people call Red Bagel a space cowboy (wahnt-waaow). Ignorant to popular culture, Bagel burns his driver's license and spends two years living underground as Miguel Carlos Ferrina.Now HiringSmall Town Rube. Trustworthy innocent needed to flush gremlins out of elevator system. Competitive wage to be paid upon successful completion of duties. No Sci-Fi geeks, please. Most Painful Music Lawsuits1. | Christopher Cross vs. Kris Kross (1992) | 2. | John Fogerty vs. John Fogerty (1985) | 3. | Warner Bros. vs. Pri.. The Ar.. That Guy Over There in the Pastel Pants (1994) | 4. | Michael Jackson vs. Insane Kahlil's Rhinoplasty (1987) | 5. | The Ghost of Nat "King" Cole vs. Natalie Cole (1991) | |
| California Loses! Schwarzenegger Aryan-Elect; Davis Out on His AssBY h.i. standard 10/13/2003 The Bitcher in the City (Part 2)As cute as Shelly was she was pretty dumb and just as useless a tool as everyone else, so I thought she should just die already. I told her so, but she didn't think it was as funny as I did. Which was fine because I didn't think it was funny. She and her big fat Army boyfriend Mervin didn't care, though. They just sat there listening to that lame-ass Dixieland Jazz they liked so much and acted like they liked it. It was all stupid posturing. No one could like that dumb music. I don't like it.
Mervin was tapping his hand absently on the stupid table. "You look familiar, kid," he said. He always called me kid, 'cause he was a dick.
"Oh? Stupid."
"Yeah," said Mervin. He was bobbing his head to the stupid music again, like a tool, but he stopped after a minu...
As cute as Shelly was she was pretty dumb and just as useless a tool as everyone else, so I thought she should just die already. I told her so, but she didn't think it was as funny as I did. Which was fine because I didn't think it was funny. She and her big fat Army boyfriend Mervin didn't care, though. They just sat there listening to that lame-ass Dixieland Jazz they liked so much and acted like they liked it. It was all stupid posturing. No one could like that dumb music. I don't like it. Mervin was tapping his hand absently on the stupid table. "You look familiar, kid," he said. He always called me kid, 'cause he was a dick. "Oh? Stupid." "Yeah," said Mervin. He was bobbing his head to the stupid music again, like a tool, but he stopped after a minute. He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. "By George, now I know why you look familiar! You remind me of this guy I knew at Isherwood State. What was his name?" "My brother went to Isherwood State. Squirrel Flange." Mervin nodded. "That's it! Squirrel Flange! I must have known him there. What's your name, kid?" I hated the jerk and wished he would just up and die. But I told him my name anyway. "Preston Flange." "Oh." He thought for a minute. "Squirrel Flange… nope, I never met a Squirrel Flange. I must be mistaken." What a big fat fake. A useless tool that ought to have his head popped by God's very own fingers. I got to feeling a little nauseous in the stupid club so I went outside. By the time I was at the door I heard Mervin yelling that I looked familiar again, but I didn't want to talk to him no more. I went out into the cold, rainy, nighty, New York City night. I realized I didn't like Squirrel much anymore, not since he went and turned into a Texas Ranger, like he was a bigshot. He didn't go through training or anything either, just woke up a Texas Ranger one morning, complete with the uniform. What a show-off. The only person I probably did like and didn't think was a tool so much anymore was the little foreign exchange student who lived with us. She was 13 and from some other country. She was always nice and would smile at me and say something in that funny language and I would pretend to understand, then we would have our chickens fight together, to the death. I missed her, being so cold and lonely in New York City. Then I remembered she lived in New York City, with mom and dad, those tools, but I wasn't ready to go back home and get in trouble for killing that dumb kid at Bible College. So I just decided I'd call. Lucky for me, Jing Ma answered the phone. "Happy to ring you up," declared Jing Ma happily. "Jing Ma, it's me, Preston. What's up?" "You for very naughty, Preston Flange. Telling news says you to kill a boy." "Don't tell me you turned all fake and tool-like on me, too," I said. I was mad, but not too mad. She was just a kid. With a poor grasp of English. She'd believe whatever she saw on the TV. "Please, Preston Flange. Please to come home and not kill no more." I hung up. She was just going to guilt-trip me. Who needs a guilt-trip? For more of this great story, buy H.I. Standard's The Bitcher in the City |