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Tom Cruise's Shit Don't StinkAmerican actor must be some kind of heavenly gift to earth November 24, 2003 |
Winnipeg, Canada Sloe Lorenzo Pleasant-smelling possible gift to humanity Tom Cruise, seen here being admired from afar
"We've long suspected Mr. Cruise might have descended from a higher odor of stenchless man, and these findings have merely confirmed the innate superiority we've long gathered from Tom's demeanor and public statements," explained Dr. Remus Rooney of the Manitoba Center for Deep Thinking. The center, housed in a building once famously occupied by vice pioneer Brooks McNally's "assembly-line" brothel during WWII, is known ...
ccording to a troubling new study published today, Canadian scientists have found the shit of American actor Tom Cruise to be totally lacking in the offensive odor usually associated with common man-scat. The discovery raises a host of disturbing questions, not the least of which is what Canadian scientists were doing smelling Cruise's shit in the first place.
"We've long suspected Mr. Cruise might have descended from a higher odor of stenchless man, and these findings have merely confirmed the innate superiority we've long gathered from Tom's demeanor and public statements," explained Dr. Remus Rooney of the Manitoba Center for Deep Thinking. The center, housed in a building once famously occupied by vice pioneer Brooks McNally's "assembly-line" brothel during WWII, is known around the world for investigating questions of general scientific interest such as what those letters on zipper tabs mean and why some people insist on calling it "double-yew double-yew eye eye."
"When Tom looks at you, you can just tell his shit doesn't stink," added Rooney. "And now we have the research to back it up."
But how did this unusual study come about?
"Tom contacted us, actually," elaborated Dr. Rooney. "He was concerned that the cigar boxes of shit he was mailing to a local rival might not be having the intended effect, and sure enough it turns out the guy was using the stuff to insulate his house."
Rooney is careful to point out that Cruise's fecal matter is not odorless, which would just be creepy, but rather carries the robust odor of roasted almonds, a scent most who come in contact with the shit find pleasing. Through a series of tests at the Manitoba Center, Cruise's diet, lifestyle and religious practices are being examined as scientists attempt to probe the inner workings of the sweet-smelling actor.
"I hear he eats nothing but honeydew melons and bee larvae," insisted local roughneck Denny Lopez. "No shit. Or whatever they make that bee jelly out of. That shit's expensive. Damn but I'd like to get me some. My shit stink like death, yo."
"The defining characteristic of shit is that it stinks," explained leading fecalogist Roger Burns. "Which is what makes this case so unusual. If it doesn't stink, is it still shit? Or is Mr. Cruise instead shitting out something else? And if this is the case, is he still shitting it out, or do we need to come up with another verb for defecating a substance through one's anus? This is truly a heady day for science."
"Just a sec, I gotta take a shit," added Burns, excusing himself.
"Why don't you leave one instead?" countered Dr. Rooney, in jest. Both doctors chuckled heartily.
"That one never gets old," admitted Burns. the commune news' shit doth indeed stink, so much so in fact to warrant a recent local news report. Ramon Nootles is rarely singled out as the culprit in this matter, but only because of the overwhelming in-office opinion that commune columnist and resident alien Boris Utzov and his bizarre Eastern-European diet are to blame.
 | Bush to Britain: "Speak English, Motherfuckers"November 24, 2003 |
London, England Whit Pistol Befuddled President Bush wonders why that goofy-ass queen makes all the royal guards get the same odd haircut.
“Y’all talk like fruits over here,” concluded the president, as handlers corralled the president to the prime minister’s residence.
It was a bad start to a rough visit to London for the president, on a goodwill trip to improve his image across the Atlantic. Inside sources describe Bush as beleaguered and exasperated with constant negative coverage of his visit to the country, as well as an extreme difficulty in crossing the accent gap. Bush had reportedly cupped his hand to his ear minutes earlier and mouthed, “I donâ...
nother embarrassing gaff from the president occurred Tuesday when President Bush, briefly addressing protestors as he was escorted to a meeting with Prime Minister Tony Blair, angrily demanded the crowd, “Speak English, motherfuckers!” “Y’all talk like fruits over here,” concluded the president, as handlers corralled the president to the prime minister’s residence. It was a bad start to a rough visit to London for the president, on a goodwill trip to improve his image across the Atlantic. Inside sources describe Bush as beleaguered and exasperated with constant negative coverage of his visit to the country, as well as an extreme difficulty in crossing the accent gap. Bush had reportedly cupped his hand to his ear minutes earlier and mouthed, “I don’t unnerstan ya,” before blurting out his loud insult to the surprised crowd. Though Bush’s meeting with the prime minister was insightful, according to better educated White House spokespeople, reporters from both countries were anxious to hear Bush’s excuse for the comment. “The president was tired and cranky, suffering from jet lag,” said overworked White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan, “he responded aggressively to what he perceived as an aggressive accusation in a language he couldn’t understand. He regrets saying things he should have only thought, but does not apologize. Wrap your head around that one.” Other difficulties presented themselves, the White House stated in an accompanying memo, all adding to Bush’s confusion with the language. He was disturbed when the prime minister asked for Bush to “knock him up” as soon as he arrived; also bothering him were a minor traffic accident involving a pair of “lorries” and the ride on the “lift” during his first stop. “We are talking about a president who hasn’t mastered this country’s cultural language quirks,” said an unidentified White House source this reporter nicknamed Big Johnson. “Put the pressure of selling the Iraq war and post-war reconstruction together with a culture he’s only familiar with through Benny Hill re-runs and we’re talking about one pissed-off president.” The visit was declared successful by the White House, claiming disagreements about the Iraq war and the country’s future were discussed and overcome, though gaffs continued to follow the president like a pack of redneck-sniffing hounds. When introduced to the Queen, the president shared how much he loved “We Will Rock You”; addressing a gathering British diplomats, Bush said how deeply he regretted bombing their country in World War II and he would make sure to see the big clock before he left. Thursday marked the biggest turnout of protestors as an estimated 100,000 tongue-clucking Britons gathered in Trafalgar Square to burn effigies of Bush, carry sort-of clever disparaging signs addressed to him, and generally dis the visiting president. Bush himself, in a better mood Thursday, took a Zen approach to the protests. “Everyone has the right to speak their own mind,” said the president. “We fought for their independence so they could say what they want.” the commune news has never been to England, but we’ve been to New England, and if all they got across the pond is clam chowder and the Celtics, we’ll just as well stay here. Truman Prudy is our UK correspondent, and a bit of an English muffin, if you get what we mean. And if you do, please explain it to him.
| 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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 November 24, 2003 Volume 56Dear commune:
Long time no see, guys. Since you put up those curtains and stationed that security guard out front.
I hate to say it, but I’m starting to feel like I’m not wanted anymore. Used to be you would sit around on your fat asses twiddling your fucking thumbs waiting for a new letter from Weak Hat. And I was always there for you, dropping in your mailbox unexpectedly like a mailbox-size Charo. I guess you got new friends now. All famous and shit, now the commune don’t have time for its old letter chums. Oh, I want "the commune" italicized in that last sentence, ’cause I mean that shit sarcastic. You guys are douchebags, and I’m not being sarcastic saying that.
But I’m a bigger man than you guys. In fact, stacked one on top of th...
º Last Column: Volume 55
º more columns
Dear commune: Long time no see, guys. Since you put up those curtains and stationed that security guard out front. I hate to say it, but I’m starting to feel like I’m not wanted anymore. Used to be you would sit around on your fat asses twiddling your fucking thumbs waiting for a new letter from Weak Hat. And I was always there for you, dropping in your mailbox unexpectedly like a mailbox-size Charo. I guess you got new friends now. All famous and shit, now the commune don’t have time for its old letter chums. Oh, I want "the commune" italicized in that last sentence, ’cause I mean that shit sarcastic. You guys are douchebags, and I’m not being sarcastic saying that. But I’m a bigger man than you guys. In fact, stacked one on top of the other I bet I’m still 9 inches higher than all you guys. You have to stack them sideways, not one on the other’s shoulders. Let’s be realistic here. Sorry, I passed out there. What I was saying is I forgive you. When you get right down to it, the commune is a good source of news and swear words. Which I fucking appreciate. All I ask is you keep turning out the great alternative news, the tell-it-like-it-is columns, and that Entertainment column which I’m ambivalent about. And please publish my letter. And if you can swing it, find a 8,000-foot mountain and carve my likeness into it. For old times’ sake. "Weak Hat" Tim McGee
Harrisburg, PADear "Weak Hat":
Thanks for being so understanding about not publishing your letters. After all, the commune gets hundreds of letters every millennium, and we can’t fit all those into our regular editions. Mostly because two-thirds of them are from you. Quit writing us already.
It’s nothing personal, it’s just that you frighten us and we fear becoming like you in any respect. As a measure, we’ve decided to stop swearing just to be on the safe side. The great alternative news and tell-it-like-it-is columns? Not doing that anymore. Please let us know in the future anything else you like about the commune and we’ll take precautionary measures to stop doing that as well.
As men are judged by the company they keep, the commune is regarded by the nutholes who write them letters.
the commune
Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for the stacks of unread letters lying around our offices—if we read them, we’d just be severely depressed visualizing the cretinous nobs slobbering over half-composed thoughts and somehow managing to mail them to us. And we’ve made a promise to ourselves to stop letting our readers bring us down.º Last Column: Volume 55º more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“No man is an island. But I have met several women I would like to live on for the rest of my life.”
-John Donne JuanFortune 500 CookieBy the pricking of my thumb I have really fucked up my keyboard playing. Trust in a higher power this week—the Waffle King knows what he's doing. Why be merely happy when you could be shit-yer-drawers happy? The world is you oyster, which explains that nauseating fish smell you can't escape. Lucky hammers roofing, jack, ball peen, MC.
Try again later.Top Other Inventions by the Crash Test Dummy Creator| 1. | Self-ejecting canned corn | | 2. | 5-string bass | | 3. | Hot Hands®, the cheapest, safest, easiest way to light your hands on fire | | 4. | Crash Test Dummy Secret Base Playset (Figures sold separately) | | 5. | Freshomatic, battery-powered freshness-testing meter | |
|   Newest Governors Already Recalled BY roland mcshyster 11/10/2003 Greetings, potential moviegoers, and welcome back to another week of Roland McShyster's Entertainment Police. We're back with our usual look at what Hollywood's hit with the car this week, and will do our best to jot down the license plate numbers of those responsible before the perpetrators can peel out off into the night. So without further undo ado, let's peek between our fingers at this week's movies.
In Theaters
Bastard Commander: The Far Side of the World
Honk if you're tired of seeing movies that try to make the Cobra Commander into a sympathetic character. We all know he had some kind of motivation, like all the other kids made fun of him back in grade school because he had a lisp, e...
Greetings, potential moviegoers, and welcome back to another week of Roland McShyster's Entertainment Police. We're back with our usual look at what Hollywood's hit with the car this week, and will do our best to jot down the license plate numbers of those responsible before the perpetrators can peel out off into the night. So without further undo ado, let's peek between our fingers at this week's movies.
In Theaters
Bastard Commander: The Far Side of the World
Honk if you're tired of seeing movies that try to make the Cobra Commander into a sympathetic character. We all know he had some kind of motivation, like all the other kids made fun of him back in grade school because he had a lisp, etc. But what Hollywood producers don't understand is that the whole point of the character is that he's just a bad guy and a jerk, and he doesn't have any kind of special gun to shoot so he's lame anyway. Those same producers called in Russell Crowe to try and recreate the white-wash job he did on insane folk-rocker Graham Nash in A Beautiful Mime, and he does his best here but it's hard to act much through a big chrome motorcycle helmet. The film is also hampered by the bizarre decision to tie characters from Gary Larson's The Far Side comic strip universe into the action. This might have been a stroke of genius in another film, but in this one the infant goes cartwheeling out the window the second a guy shows up with a gun that shoots Doberman pincer dogs. It all goes surreally downhill from there, as the film is overrun by giant talking cockroaches and ostriches wearing neckties. There were a couple of funny bits toward the end, but it turned out those were all from Far Sides I'd missed on the days my bastard next-door neighbor stole the paper.
Brother Bear
Kudos to Disney for showing some class in naming their latest animated manifesto Brother Bear, which is far more P.C. than calling him a "Black Bear," an offensive term racist scientists have been using for years. And it's a welcome turn of events after the debacle of Disney's last animated shocker, Black Hotties Acting Naughty, which was a box-office disappointment and was way too stingy with the cheesecake. Brother Bear tells the story of an African-American bear's struggle to earn respect on the street, or whatever the woodland equivalent of the street is. The clearing, whatever. Word on the street is that Brother Bear will be Disney's final traditionally-animated feature, I'm not sure if that means all their movies in the future will be done like Dr. Katz or what, but I'm game for the change. The current popularity of CGI animated films has proven amply that computers are where it's at, even if it is a lot harder to draw with a mouse. But apparently there are some guys over in Korea or somewhere who can do it, so cool.
Good Boy!
Sitting through political docudrama about George W. Bush's first 600 days in office, bankrolled by his right-wing supporters and corporate backers? Yeah, that sounds a lot better than having my nuts cut off with a weed whacker.
Looney Tunes: Back Door Action
If ever a film disturbed me to my very core as a human being, while brutally assaulting my faith in humanity, it was Baby Geniuses. But Looney Tunes: Back Door Action is number two with a bullet, and it has its eyes on the prize. While I understand that Warner Bros. has been under pressure to keep up with Disney's deteriorating morals these last several years, there is such a thing as going too far, and this time they went too far and a half. If I wanted to watch cartoons having sex, I'd move to Japan, thank you very much.
The Matrix Restitutions
It really warms my heart to see those Matrix-happy bastards finally getting what they had coming. After tricking fans of the original Matrix into sitting through the painfully unwatchable The Matrix Reloaded, which was about as much fun as watching somebody else play a video game for two hours, the Wacowski's chickens have finally come home to roost. With some guidance from the U.N. Film Crimes tribunal, the courts ordered the Wacowskis to make The Matrix Restitutions as a third "we're sorry" film to fulfill the community service portion of their sentence. The resulting movie tells the story of two comic book geeks who get into directing and score a surprise sci-fi hit, only to lose all sense of perspective and turn out a disgustingly convoluted and pompous sequel, which prompts a violent fan backlash against the brothers themselves. The courts ordered the Wacowskis to put hundreds of Matrix fans through kung-fu and wire-stunt training to make the spectacular vigilante mayhem of Restitutions believable, and it was money well-spent. The result is both satisfying and unintentionally hilarious, in a "pasty white gimp kung-fu" kind of way. And the best part of Restitutions? None of the guys get naked, and Keanu keeps his hard drive docked the whole time. Hallelujah.
The Texas Chain Store Massacre
One of my prime arguments against letting women direct movies has always been that it would eventually lead to tons of horrible movies about menstrual bleeding and shopping. Well, the first part of my prophecy came true a lot sooner than the second, but the second apocalyptic horseman has just pulled into town. While I'm sure it was very exciting if you were there in person, watching a movie about a really bitchin' sale at an outlet mall in Texas and some ladies who made an absolute killing on discounted home furnishings is one of my personal red flags that I've somehow ended up in a Turkish prison against my will.
Well, that's about all the nuts you can stuff into this squirrel's cheeks this week, gents and gentinas. Here's hoping the day's treating you well and that little claymation dude from the old Dominos Pizza commercials isn't chasing you all around, because man would that suck. Adios!   |
