 | 
 Dictator Vows Mole-Person Revenge December 22, 2003 |
U.S. administrator L. Paul Bremer, showing off his special-edition Iraqi Dictators Gone Wild DVD. On-screen is Hussein, who inexplicably used his one post-arrest telephone call to schedule a dentist’s appointment   After cornering Hussein in his underground lair outside his hometown of Tikrit, U.S. forces convinced the deposed Iraqi strongman to surrender under threat of being “bwasted” with shotgun rounds until such a time as he would be seen to comically spurt water from several bodily holes while drinking. At first Hussein resisted, but after a hose was run into the hole and his lair began to fill up with water, the “Butcher of Baghdad” relented. A wisecracking Hussein was pu...
fter receiving credibly non-giggling tips that the fugitive Iraqi leader was organizing a legion of mole-person insurgents to perform attacks on occupying U.S. forces, American soldiers successfully completed a raid last Saturday that netted them the biggest turd in the entire Iraqi punch bowl: Saddam Hussein. After cornering Hussein in his underground lair outside his hometown of Tikrit, U.S. forces convinced the deposed Iraqi strongman to surrender under threat of being “bwasted” with shotgun rounds until such a time as he would be seen to comically spurt water from several bodily holes while drinking. At first Hussein resisted, but after a hose was run into the hole and his lair began to fill up with water, the “Butcher of Baghdad” relented. A wisecracking Hussein was pulled from the hole by his voluminous whisker hairs, a seemingly cruel technique that Iraq experts nonetheless praised as the proper method for preventing injury to the former dictator. Hussein very nearly escaped shortly after his capture, after convincing his captors that the last thing in the world he wanted was to be thrown back into the dark, scary hole, anything but the hole. U.S. soldiers were about to return Hussein to his hole to teach him a lesson when a ranking officer familiar with the story of “Br’er Rabbit” stepped in and foiled the ousted president’s clever ruse. U.S. forces and the Iraqi public were shocked by Hussein’s unkempt appearance, described by some as “a dead bum having a bad hair day.” Many were expecting the imposing figure usually seen in pictures, a nattily dressed man in green fatigues with matching hat, worn characteristically at a rakish angle that seemed to say “Mustache rides: $5.” Soldiers charged with hunting down Hussein nearly passed the former president by, mistaking him for a hobo intent on making them feel guilty about their profitable imperialist ways. Saddam’s identity was confirmed, however, after the fugitive leader drew attention to himself by shouting “Rise! Rise my children and blindly stamp out thine enemies! Get up you lazy mole bastards!” before disappearing into his rustic underground retreat. Fears that Saddam was masterminding the Iraqi resistance from exile were sort of confirmed after the dictator’s capture, when it was discovered that Hussein had trained several moles to do parlor tricks during his time underground. Intelligence experts warn that, given more time, Saddam might have been able to train the rodents to slightly annoy occupation forces and nibble on U.S.-backed crops. At first, the Iraqi public was slow to believe that Hussein had actually been captured, signaling an end to their long national nightmare. But once Saddam started rambling on about the mole people, even the harshest skeptics had to admit the right man had been captured. A large number of Iraqis disappointed by Hussein’s boring surrender and lack of evil heroics have suggested that the muttering, dazed dictator was drugged by the CIA and his capture staged to sap insurgent morale, but those who knew the man suggest this is highly unlikely, unless Hussein had been gassed regularly since the early 1960’s. Questioned about possible CIA interference during his interrogation, a rambling Hussein was overheard to explain that he never minded being called “The Butcher of Baghdad” because it reminded him of his favorite musical, “The Barber of Seville.”
the commune news will never be flushed from our underground lair, though possibly only because no one is looking for us that we know of. Ivan Nacutchacokov nearly won a bet by avoiding injury and embarrassment during this entire assignment, only to be apprehended for smiling at the airport and cavity-searched for seventeen hours under suspicion of smuggling missing Iraqi cultural treasures.
 | Santa Claus Vetoing All Requests for Paris Hilton VideoDecember 22, 2003 |
Christmastown, North Pole AP Claus and Hilton (inset), two names on seemingly everyone’s lips this time of year
The video in question features the 22-year-old hotel heiress engaging in several coal-worthy sex acts with then boyfriend Rick Solomon. While readily available for illegal download on the Internet, many had hoped for a handsomely packaged VHS or DVD copy they could proudly display in their movie collection this Christmas, a wish that Claus will be unable to fulfill for multiple reasons.
“Even if I approved of the content, I can’t even get my hands on the thing,” explained Santa. “They don’t offer broadband access at the North Pole, ...
espite its popularity on Christmas wish lists the world over, Santa Claus called the commune offices this week to announce regretfully that he would not be fulfilling any requests for the Paris Hilton sex video this year.
The video in question features the 22-year-old hotel heiress engaging in several coal-worthy sex acts with then boyfriend Rick Solomon. While readily available for illegal download on the Internet, many had hoped for a handsomely packaged VHS or DVD copy they could proudly display in their movie collection this Christmas, a wish that Claus will be unable to fulfill for multiple reasons.
“Even if I approved of the content, I can’t even get my hands on the thing,” explained Santa. “They don’t offer broadband access at the North Pole, I’m still using this infernal dial-up connection. I can’t even download MP3s of the latest Christmas carols, it’s hopeless. Though from what I hear of today’s music, Santa may not be missing too much on that front, ho ho.”
Off the record, Santa expressed his concerns that hearing some godawful dance hit about Christina Aguilera getting fucked under the Christmas tree might shake his already strained Christmas spirit. Additionally, Claus wished to get the word out on several other hotly anticipated items he won’t be able to cram under Christmas trees this December 25th.
“The Gilligan’s Island DVD—that’s not even out yet. Just because I can breed magical flying livestock doesn’t mean I can time-travel here, kids. Have your parents check the street dates for these things before you send Santa your list next year, please,” the jolly fat man requested.
“Also, I’m not doing color picture phones this year,” Santa apologized. “My distributor in Korea said he could get me the parts but then he hit some kind snag with the displays and let Santa down big time. He can expect a big, dusty hunk of coal in his stocking this year, don’t worry. Though I sincerely doubt he’ll even notice, since most of those Asian countries don’t know Christmas from a crab cake. I stopped going to Singapore last year because everybody thought Santa was some kind of clown and they all wanted me to blow up balloon animals. Not that Santa minds getting a few fortune cookies on Christmas Eve, those can be a nice change of pace that go down surprisingly well with milk.”
Unfortunately, the Orient has not been alone in letting Santa down in recent years.
“Truth be told, some parts of Canada are even questionable these days,” St. Nick griped. “Last year I plopped down a chimney in Winnipeg and half the kids thought I was one of the X-Men, they wouldn’t shut up about wanting to see me extend my claws or shoot fireballs out of my armpits. None of those little children seemed too impressed with the old candy-cane behind-the-ear trick, either. I’m half inclined to skip Canada this year and see how much Christmas cheer their precious Wolverine brings them in my stead, the ungrateful little comic book geeks.”
Santa stresses that while full of good cheer and the Christmas spirit, most of his elves possess a third-grade education at best, and simply do not have the skills necessary to work with complex electronics.
“I thought it was bad back in 2001 when I had to have my elves dig up a bunch of old waffle irons and slap George Foreman decals on them,” Santa explained. “But now it’s just gone completely out of hand. Nobody wants a painted nutcracker anymore. Now it’s all Playstation 2 this and DVD burner that. I’ve had to farm most of my production work out to the Far East, and though small and well-behaved, I doubt those people are what most children envision when they think of Santa’s workforce.”
The resultant layoffs have hit the Christmas elf community hard, leading to rising levels of depression and substance abuse, aided in no small part by the North Pole’s harsh climate and the poor genetic tolerance for alcohol inherent in the Christmas elf population.
Due to rising tech expenses and soft sales of Santa-themed merchandise, Santa’s profit margins are razor-thin this year, children. Nice boys and girls can show their love for Santa by requesting less-demanding toys this Christmas season.
“Who wouldn’t love a little wooden toy train? That’s a classic. Those are pretty cheap to make, and we’ve got tons left over from the elf rehab workshops. Or how about a wooden dolly with a painted face? That’s pretty nice. And blocks. Kids used to have loads of fun with blocks,” Santa said, sighing distractedly.
Claus also wanted to stress with parents the importance of not arming their homes with high-tech burglar alarms and other security systems impervious to Christmas magic.
“Santa Claus doesn’t like to break a window, but he does what he has to do to deliver the magic of Christmas,” warned Santa in a stern tone. the commune news has been accused several times of ruining the magic of Christmas, but stands by its record of thirty-four charges with nary a conviction. Bludney Pludd celebrated his third straight year as winner of the “Hey Biff!” award for the nation’s most gullible journalist in 2003, and word is he’s a snipe hunt away from being the odds-on favorite to repeat again in 2004.
| 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 |
|
|
| 
 December 22, 2003 Sorry for Skipping the Poor KidsNothing's more depressing than gearing up for the Christmas season, getting all jolly and stuff, and getting one of these letters from the little kids who are oh-so innocent: "Santa, can you please bring gifts to all the poor kids this year?"
Ah, Christ. Like I needed that bring-down.
Look, once and for all, I cannot help the poor kids. It's not because I'm some big fat asshole, lord knows. My hands are tied on the matter. Sorry. Life's hard, learn to cope.
Once Thanksgiving is over I got my helpers showing up in droves telling me what kids want, and every one says, "By the way, getting a lot of flak on the whole 'poor kids' thing. Can you do something about that this year?" I kick them out of the office and don't tell them anything else, because i...
º Last Column: Get Me on the Next Plane to Nigeria!
º more columns
Nothing's more depressing than gearing up for the Christmas season, getting all jolly and stuff, and getting one of these letters from the little kids who are oh-so innocent: "Santa, can you please bring gifts to all the poor kids this year?"
Ah, Christ. Like I needed that bring-down.
Look, once and for all, I cannot help the poor kids. It's not because I'm some big fat asshole, lord knows. My hands are tied on the matter. Sorry. Life's hard, learn to cope.
Once Thanksgiving is over I got my helpers showing up in droves telling me what kids want, and every one says, "By the way, getting a lot of flak on the whole 'poor kids' thing. Can you do something about that this year?" I kick them out of the office and don't tell them anything else, because it's none of their business. I'm the head elf. They don't need to know the murky depths of the business.
But just for the record, without naming names, let's just say it's very difficult to run a high-overhead operation like this and cutting costs wherever possible is a must. I got the elves and reindeer out selling band candy and magazine subscriptions all year around just to afford the toys in the first place, then I have to work out tax bracket nonsense with each individual government. That's a lot of work.
Not that these guys aren't jolly in their own way, I'm not pointing the finger at them. They've got their own problems. You don't have a major influx of toys every year on the same night and not have big tax issues to deal with, I understand the mechanics of it. So for centuries I've been working out deals on the side to keep operating at whatever cost, and it just turns out the poor kids get screwed in the deal. Sorry, shit ain't fair.
It's not just getting lists and making the toys, folks. There's red tape, always red tape. I've worked out a deal in most countries where a certain percentage of every family's individual income qualifies for toy delivery. As you can imagine, it's a pretty dismal story for the poor kids. It's not my fault you live in a trailer and dad cleans up roadkill for a living. I never said forget the contraceptives, baby, I know when to pull out. The fact is people don't put the thought into having kids they should, and who gets screwed? You kids, that's the fact. Tell your dad he should have been studying for the SATs instead of rocking out to Cinderella.
So the rich kids get richer and the poor kids get squat. Those capitalist countries love it. And the communist countries, now that it's like three or four, I can't even work out a deal with those knobs. They always demand I do something about sanctions and I keep telling them, I don't touch sanctions, not my business. I'm all about the toys. They say when I can do something about improving trade relations they'll let me deliver toys, but hard luck until then. And don't even get me started on Israel—they've been stonewalling me for years.
It's shit. I know it's shit. But sometimes you work with the cards you're dealt. My philosophy is, if I can get 40% of the kids out there presents, it's better than 0%. I'm working on the rest, believe me, I've got lobbyists and everything. Next time you see a diminutive fellow in Washington, you know he's working overtime to bring toys to the poor kids of the world. One of these days, children. One of these days. º Last Column: Get Me on the Next Plane to Nigeria!º more columns | 
|
| |
Quote of the Day“Even the smallest man among us can accomplish truly great things. And when it's over, it takes less beer for him to get drunk. That is truly great.”
-Leonard Rutland, Professional Drinking FishermanFortune 500 CookieWhat are you keeping that scab for? Throw that thing away already, for Christ's sake. Too many cooks spoil the broth, and so does putting sun-dried mayonnaise in it. Remember when dad told you you'd one day do something great? You will this week—remember he said that, that is.
Try again later.Top Things Overheard at Your High School Reunion| 1. | "Oh My God—you haven't changed your clothes a bit!" | | 2. | "I haven't seen you since the date rape." | | 3. | "Man, were you right about Dishwalla. One-hit wonders." | | 4. | "Best friends 4-ever, my ass! Where were you at the trial, motherfucker?!?" | | 5. | "That guy used to be a real dick. Don't let that priest outfit fool you." | | 6. | "You still owe me four push-ups, wiseguy—don't think I've forgotten." | | 7. | "Want to dance with me, Charlie? Or is it Charlene now?" | | 8. | "The old gymnasium still smells like burned flesh—what memories!" | | 9. | "So tell me why we needed to learn proofs again?" | | 10. | "Mr. 'Most Likely to Succeed' came into Denny's last night for an application. Revenge, like our soup, is best served cold." | |
|   Bush Plans to Send Troops to Moon by 2018 BY roland mcshyster 12/22/2003 Ho ho ho, America, there are prostitutes all over the place here at the commune offices and this can only mean one thing: It's the holiday season. Yessir, nothing brings out the holiday spirit more than the commune's Beds for Hookers program, now it its third year of keeping whores warm and full of holiday cheer. You can thank noted philanthropist Red Bagel for that one, if you're a hooker with Internet access. However, the ladies of the night aren't the only ones getting into the spirit, as I have to admit I've enjoyed my share of assorted nuts roasting on an open flame and Jack Frost chewing on my balls this week. So though it's been said many times and many ways: Happy Hanukah, commune world!
In Theaters
Cold Mounta...
Ho ho ho, America, there are prostitutes all over the place here at the commune offices and this can only mean one thing: It's the holiday season. Yessir, nothing brings out the holiday spirit more than the commune's Beds for Hookers program, now it its third year of keeping whores warm and full of holiday cheer. You can thank noted philanthropist Red Bagel for that one, if you're a hooker with Internet access. However, the ladies of the night aren't the only ones getting into the spirit, as I have to admit I've enjoyed my share of assorted nuts roasting on an open flame and Jack Frost chewing on my balls this week. So though it's been said many times and many ways: Happy Hanukah, commune world!
In Theaters
Cold Mountain
Jude Law stars as a Civil War soldier who is left for dead by his compatriots after he comes down with a bitter case of the sniffles, only to blow his nose on the odds and heroically ride a train home to see his wife Nicole Kidman, who is crippled by her fear of the 1800's. The casting director struck a coup by landing Nicole Kidman for the role of Nicole Kidman, saving audiences from the mind-bending confusion of having to remember that someone fatter than Nicole Kidman is actually Nicole Kidman for about two hours, within the fantastical world of the film's reality. Renee Zellweger is endearingly puffy as ever in her role as Kidman's supporting actress, though her character's name isn't Zellweger because that would cause a confusing plot hole, since her dad is Donald Sutherland and she's not married. Whatever, the movie was slow.
House of the Sandy Frog
Jennifer Connelly is an alcoholic former Mouseketeer and Ben Kingsley plays the retired baseball mascot horning in on her turf in this by-the-book adaptation of the Twain classic. The point of the Twain story was that when you're an alcoholic it's easy to get confused and forget whether somebody's a retired baseball mascot horning in on your turf or a horny retiree-balling Turk basking in mace, but in the film adaptation such nuances are lost and it becomes about a girl with big boobs shooting an Uzi. Thankfully.
Mona Lisa Simile
After deciding that the title Julia Roberts is Ugly Like the Mona Lisa probably wasn't going to cause any fire code violations with people trampling over each other to get into the theater, the cats with the big wigs on at Columbia decided to rechristen this dingy with a moniker that would appeal to the highly profitable faux-intellectual chick flick set. Thus the highbrow name, which is unfortunately destined to confuse moviegoers who toked their way through High School English. To recap, a simile is a figure of speech using like or as to compare two unlike things (for example, "Julia Roberts looks like a reindeer.") This is not to be confused with a metaphor (as in Kafka's thriller Metaphormosis), which is when an analogy is drawn by literally substituting one idea for another (as in "Julia Roberts has those weird alien lips that ate my dog."). Unfortunately, this bit of semantic nuance is the most interesting thing about the film, which could have been accurately but less-profitably titled This Movie Sucks Like a Beijing Hooker.
Monster
Charlize Theron headlines the role she was born to play in this adaptation of Stephen King's harrowing short story, the tale of a strange creature who looks just like Ashley Judd but somehow isn't. Christina Ricci seeks to de-creepy her image by starring opposite the vaguely creepier Theron, hereby appearing comparatively normal within the film's world. And it works, sort of. It's a Stephen King adaptation, so of course there's some supernatural nonsense going on and shit glows, but primarily this is a film about what happens when your pod clone starts getting better film roles than you do.
Paycheck
Calling a spade a spade for once in its miserable history, Hollywood isn't even trying to fool you into thinking the actors had any personal investment in this project. You might be inclined to feel a bit of righteous indignation about that, until you hear that Ben Affleck has the starring role, and then it all becomes very understandable. Wasting good acting on a scene with Affleck is like getting dressed up to go watch kangaroo boxing. I'd tell you what the plot entails but if the actors themselves didn't bother to learn it I'm not about to do the heavy lifting for about one billionth of what they get paid. Screw that.
I'm afraid that's that, America. Though I wish this season could go on and on, I don't really mean that, it's just a romantic thing to say. The reality of that would likely be hellish. So let it go, America, turn the page and before you know it you'll be gorging yourself miserably on little chocolate bunnies and wondering what in the hell happened. Happy holidays.   |
