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January 26, 2004 |
General Motors’ Mars Rover SUV, pictured here with the popular “Johnny Five” Sportspak option eneral Motors Corp. announced today they would be recalling all production models of their popular Mars Rover sport-utility vehicle, due to unspecified problems with the vehicle’s onboard computer system. According to Robert Jungels, a spokesperson for the world’s #1 automaker, “God help the poor son of a bitch who’s counting on one of those things on a cold winter’s day.”
In an unrelated story, NASA technicians continue to twiddle knobs and fart around in an effort to repair their ailing Mars Rover, stranded on the barren Martian surface nearly 100 million miles from Earth. As of Friday, technicians were receiving only random blips of static and the sickening sound of grinding metal from the Rover’s powerful radio antenna.
“It’s just like m...
eneral Motors Corp. announced today they would be recalling all production models of their popular Mars Rover sport-utility vehicle, due to unspecified problems with the vehicle’s onboard computer system. According to Robert Jungels, a spokesperson for the world’s #1 automaker, “God help the poor son of a bitch who’s counting on one of those things on a cold winter’s day.”
In an unrelated story, NASA technicians continue to twiddle knobs and fart around in an effort to repair their ailing Mars Rover, stranded on the barren Martian surface nearly 100 million miles from Earth. As of Friday, technicians were receiving only random blips of static and the sickening sound of grinding metal from the Rover’s powerful radio antenna.
“It’s just like my Lumina,” mused mission controller Mark Banks. “Looks like beautiful. Drives like shit.”
“As the owner’s manual states clearly in twelve point Helvetica, it is not recommended that the Rover be driven outside of the country,” explained GM’s Jungels when told about NASA’s car trouble. “Foreign gasoline is rarely up to US standards, and you never know what kind of weird-assed Chink nail you’re going to kick up from the road.”
Asked whether the red planet would fall under his classification of “outside of the country,” Jungels was emphatic. “Shit yeah.”
The scene at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratories in Pasadena, CA was a desperate one over the weekend, with a crowd of engineers hunched over the Rover’s remote display terminal, offering a cacophony of suggestions. “Turn it over… no, jiggle the… you’re flooding it!”
According to NASA officials, the Rover failed soon after rolling of its landing platform on the Martian surface, and the “check engine” light has been on since last Tuesday.
“My dad was right, we never should have bought American,” lamented NASA engineer Richard Bennett, echoing a popular sentiment at mission control. Due to budgetary cutbacks, NASA’s original plan for a high tech NASA-only Rover designed by Honda and Toshiba had to be scaled back in favor of a more modest proposal before launch. The Detroit automaker’s low APR financing was said to be a major deciding factor for cash-strapped NASA.
“The funny thing is, the radio still works fine,” chuckled a bemused Bennett. “Clear as a bell. We’ve been listening to K-BIG all weekend, their whole doo-wop countdown. Except when Mickels is in charge, he likes to channel surf and we usually get stuck listening to some bullshit AC-DC song. If there is any intelligent life on Mars, they’re going to think we’ve got really shitty taste in music.”
Though it may be of cold comfort given the mission’s $850 million price tag, GM customer service representatives have assured NASA that the offending control module will be replaced free of charge, as soon as NASA can bring the Rover in to any of the over 7,500 authorized GM dealers in the United States and Canada. the commune news has owned several recalled GM cars over the years, and we can assure you none were recalled fondly. Ramon Nootles, however, is perfectly happy with his Monte Carlo, because when it’s not running it’s just that much easier to get a girl into the back seat.
| Hillary Clinton Regrets "Cock-Smoking" Gandhi JokeJanuary 19, 2004 |
Saint Louis, MO Alton Onus Sen. Clinton, delivering her "It takes two hands to give Bush the bird, but it's worth it" show-stopper en. Hillary Rodham Clinton apologized this week for referring to Indian leader Mahatma Gandhi as a "cock-smoking son of a bitch" in a speech at a Democratic fund-raiser earlier in the month. Insisting the statement was taken out of context, the former first lady explained that she was merely attempting to liven up her speech by making humorous reference to the deceased leader's man-pleasing proclivities.
Clinton's bizarre comments came while speaking in support of Senate candidate Nancy Farmer. The former first lady introduced the aspiring senator to the fund-raiser crowd with a comparison to Gandhi, suggesting that both had blown more men than the A-bomb. The stunned silence of the room turned to nervous laughter when the former first lady followed her comment with an explana...
en. Hillary Rodham Clinton apologized this week for referring to Indian leader Mahatma Gandhi as a "cock-smoking son of a bitch" in a speech at a Democratic fund-raiser earlier in the month. Insisting the statement was taken out of context, the former first lady explained that she was merely attempting to liven up her speech by making humorous reference to the deceased leader's man-pleasing proclivities.
Clinton's bizarre comments came while speaking in support of Senate candidate Nancy Farmer. The former first lady introduced the aspiring senator to the fund-raiser crowd with a comparison to Gandhi, suggesting that both had blown more men than the A-bomb. The stunned silence of the room turned to nervous laughter when the former first lady followed her comment with an explanatory "blow job" facial expression using her tongue and cheek.
The resultant public outcry once newspapers picked up on the story led to a prompt public retraction from the New York senator.
"Mahatma Gandhi was a great man, and I sincerely apologize if I ever gave any indication to the contrary," Sen. Clinton stated in apology. "He was a true gift to humanity."
"You can ask anybody whose choad he smoked," added Clinton after a brief pause.
The outrage incensed by Clinton's previous statements flared up like a gas-soaked Buddhist monk when word of her apology hit the street.
"I'm visibly offended," blustered Tonight Show joke writer George Mattson. "Everybody knows Gandhi material is my thing. If she thinks she can horn in on my comedic territory, she's got another thing coming. I've got years worth of 'Damn, Chelsea Ugly' jokes saved up. Years. Also I've also been meaning to say that Hillary looks suspiciously like she should be Bill's mother. Now I'm going to say it."
"Hillary has been trying to inject humor into her public persona lately," explained publicist Aria Hershberg. "She's understandably tired of coming off as the prototypical lesbian stuffed shirt in mannish shoes, and who can blame her? Just play along, trust me. She's still new at this and it can take a while for an adult to develop a personality belatedly, just give her a little time. And actually I thought the thing she said about the giraffe's gynecologist was kind of funny. Maybe you had to be there."
Displaying a unique talent for shoveling shit straight into an oncoming hurricane, Sen. Clinton has dug herself deeper with each successive quote following the incident.
"Listen, listen, I have admired the work and life of Mahatma Gandhi and have spoken publicly about that many times," explained Clinton at a recent charity dinner. "What I said the other day was just a lame attempt at humor. I sincerely apologize for suggesting the honorable Mahatma Gandhi would tongue your balls for a dollar."
After a relieved sigh from diners, Clinton continued. "What I should have said was 'Mahatma Gandhi's mama so ugly she could knock the dot off a Hindu at twenty paces!'"
In spite of recent public relations setbacks, Clinton's attempts at developing a sense of humor show no signs of flagging. In the last week, Sen. Clinton has spoken out in support of legislation "to make math easier for retards" and has gone public with the incredibly dated quip that "the next time I see Michael Gorbachev, I'm gonna wipe that thing off his head. What's up with that thing, really?" the commune news has the utmost respect for India and all the other nutfuck nuke-having foreign nations out there. Ivana Folger-Balzac has the utmost respect for Indiana Jones, which isn't the same thing at all, but we're sure as hell not going to be the ones to point that out.
| Michael Jackson completely innocent, assures fan who never met him Escaped sex offender enjoys legal loop hole, several other holes White men dominate science positions, all non-sports positions Gold, shotguns, ammunition, fallout shelters all make strong showings |
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January 19, 2004 Premature TerminationI'm happy to inform everyone following my adventures I have made some headway in my efforts to redesign how the commune is managed. Red Bagel finally agreed to cut some of the office fat and fire three employees whose jobs are redundant. Of course, the catch was I had to be two of the employees—I'm not even sure how the physics of that works out, it would apparently at least involve him firing me twice. Needless to say, I put off accepting that deal until I can reach some sort of agreement with him in which other redundant employees are fired and I'm allowed to retain my position. But still, it's progress.
Don't let this leave you with the impression I like firing people. It's the least favorite part of my job, or it would be, if I was allowed to do it. I suppose it might rank...
º Last Column: Curriculum Vitae º more columns
I'm happy to inform everyone following my adventures I have made some headway in my efforts to redesign how the commune is managed. Red Bagel finally agreed to cut some of the office fat and fire three employees whose jobs are redundant. Of course, the catch was I had to be two of the employees—I'm not even sure how the physics of that works out, it would apparently at least involve him firing me twice. Needless to say, I put off accepting that deal until I can reach some sort of agreement with him in which other redundant employees are fired and I'm allowed to retain my position. But still, it's progress. Don't let this leave you with the impression I like firing people. It's the least favorite part of my job, or it would be, if I was allowed to do it. I suppose it might rank in the bottom 5, actually, maybe between cleaning Bagel's birdcage and plucking the feathers off Bagel's bird. It would easily be one of the four or five least enjoyable parts of my job description, if they'd let me do it as I've been asking for years. I've fired people before, of course. At my old website, poopoftheday.com, I unfortunately had let my mother go when it became apparent the website wasn't making enough money to support more than one employee, or even one, and although she wasn't technically being paid for her services, it sent a clear message to potential future stockholders we were serious about making major changes. Mom was quite upset, and refused to give me a ride to work after that, but it takes a strong stomach to run a tight ship. And hard abs. In fact, between you and me, I fired quite a few people during my tenure running the commune last year, and only had yet to inform them they were let go. Editor Bagel, in his infinite exact opposite of wisdom, saw fit to retain those employees to keep doing whatever the hell it is they do here, but that would have been far different if I had the paper to print those memos firing them all. It wasn't easy for me, from any angle, as mom was quite dismayed to find out I didn't have the opening to hire her on after all. I had planned a real swift and brutal housecleaning here at the commune, for the good of the company, and like mom is quick to remind, I never clean anything. But some day, I'm sure, all the anchors holding the commune down will be severed and we'll be free to sail free. You might be wondering, what does it take to make a good boss? I assure you, it is not, as Mr. Bagel believes, "deep pockets and an occasional bare-assed paddlin'." Not that I would mind having either. No, the secret to good management of a staff is trust. I repeat, in italics, trust. Once you have your employees' trust you can do whatever you want to them and they'll never see it coming. Of course, plotting out their firings years ahead of time and claiming it was a necessity caused by the current market is the easy part. Getting there trust—how in the world does a boss do that? Being infinitely smarter and correcting their mispronunciations of simple words isn't the way. If I had to follow Red Bagel's example, apparently dressing like a riverboat gambler and calling all your employees "suh," regardless of their sex, is the way to success. Spending more time chasing pigeons in the park with a cane made of human bone rather than in the office, this must be one way of earning employee loyalty. Or it could be as simple as picking the smartest member of your staff and subjugating him to the most humiliating meetings and stick him in the most demeaning position available. Who knows, perhaps it's all these things. Of course, who really needs the commune? According to the letter from FCC Chairman Michael Powell, nobody. And I have to agree. Maybe it's time I gave up on turning the commune into my alternative news website ideal, and concentrated on spreading my wings and soaring to new heights. Of course, I have the feeling I'd get swatted down by Bagel's bone cane if I tried. º Last Column: Curriculum Vitaeº more columns |
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Milestones1982: Fred Connor born, grows up to lead successful rebellion against war of the machines in 2011. Or at least he would have been, if a Terminator hadn't successfully eliminated him from history, according to Research Editor Griswald Dreck.Now HiringGood Terminator. Talking to Griswald Dreck has made us see the wisdom of employing a preventative Terminator security system, preferably a skilled Terminator robot who has been reprogrammed to protect commune staff members. No pay or retirement plans—yours is not to reason why, just to do and die.Top Unrevealed Bush Tax Cut Benefits1. | Paper currency disintegrates upon touching hands of lower classes | 2. | Top 1 percent of wealth holders can legally eat cloned dinosaur | 3. | Five new interns approved for every Democrat who votes for cuts | 4. | Third Star Wars movie legally required to be drastic improvement | 5. | Millions of tax dollars refunded to rich; T-shirts for poor | |
| Bush Slips the Court a BigotBY johan sebastian crackersnatch 1/19/2004 Pirates of the Terrible Kind"Arr," growled Captain Blueballs as his ship, the Black Mama, crept slowly into cursed waters.
"These waters be cursed," announced Blueballs gravely.
"But Cap'n," asked Nonose. "Weren't you the one who cursed them?"
"Makes no difference," explained Blueballs. "I dropped me favorite soap in these waters years ago. They be cursed as far as I be concerned."
"Arr, Captain." His first mate, Matey, agreed.
"Arr. Uh… old chum," replied the captain.
"Shiver me bilge snake, ye lily-wiper!" barked Blueballs to Leonard.
"Sorry Cap'n, didn't understand a word you just said," apologized Leonard, who was new to pirating.
Blueballs shot Leonard a disgusted glare.
"Keelhaul me gapers or y...
"Arr," growled Captain Blueballs as his ship, the Black Mama, crept slowly into cursed waters.
"These waters be cursed," announced Blueballs gravely.
"But Cap'n," asked Nonose. "Weren't you the one who cursed them?"
"Makes no difference," explained Blueballs. "I dropped me favorite soap in these waters years ago. They be cursed as far as I be concerned."
"Arr, Captain." His first mate, Matey, agreed.
"Arr. Uh… old chum," replied the captain.
"Shiver me bilge snake, ye lily-wiper!" barked Blueballs to Leonard.
"Sorry Cap'n, didn't understand a word you just said," apologized Leonard, who was new to pirating.
Blueballs shot Leonard a disgusted glare.
"Keelhaul me gapers or you be Davey Jones' bitch!"
"Nope, none of that either," said Leonard.
"Alright then! Spivey, bring me Nemo's parrot!" the captain demanded.
"Who's Nemo?" inquired Leonard in a most unpirate-like phrasing.
"Nemo be the saltiest old dog ever did scourge these seas. Him be a pirate as true as there be. Too true, in fact. Nobody speaks pirate good enough to understand a word he says, we don't even know his real name. We finally got a talkin' parrot to translate for him just to figure why he kept shittin' behind the powderkegs."
And it was true, Nemo was a dog saltier than a bag of Frito-Lays. He had no conscience to speak of, and held onto no remorse for any of his salty deeds. Including eating the very last cookie from the pirates' skull-shaped cookie jar.
"The parrot, Cap'n," said Spivey, handing over the parrot.
"Arr, matey," was the way Blueballs thanked him.
"Yes, Cap'n?" asked Matey.
"Nothing, nevermind."
Captain Blueballs whispered something in the parrot's ear.
"Braaa, the captain courteously requests a cigarette, braaak!"
"Captain, land ho! I mean ho's on the land!" interrupted Stipple, shouting down rudely from the crow's nest.
The men crowded around the starboard railing and spied two young women on the beach, half-dressed, looking desperate and delicious.
"I am Mable and this is my luscious sister, Heloise!" the first one, Mable, yelled shipward. "Our men left us here after the high seas drove them faggy!"
"Yes, Heloise!" agreed Heloise, waving coyly.
"Thank heavens you are here! We were afeared that pirates might come upon this isle and do terrible things to us," explained Mable, either trying to guilt the pirates into good behavior or possibly bluff them into forgetting they were pirates for a minute.
"Yes! Awful, fornicatery things!" blurted out Heloise, sounding excited.
"Hmm. Me thinks we can find use for these girls," insinuated Blueballs, salaciously.
Nemo grunted something nobody quite caught.
"Yessir, we can boil 'em in a stew, boil in a stew," repeated Nemo's parrot.
Blueballs and Matey both scowled at Nemo in the most bewildered way possible. The captain shouted something about cod-liver oil and the towrope was lowered. Once the girls were onboard, Blueballs set them up in the captain's quarters with jigsaw puzzles and frothy milk drinks.
"But Cap'n, ain't this be the time for the rapin' and the pillagin'?" asked Nonose.
"Nay," announced Blueballs, striding atop a soapbox. "For we be the honorable kind of pirates! Or at least those which be sympathetic compared to the corruptest members of the royal navy. And that be not our way."
"Oh," responded Nonose, not remembering that part.
For more of this great story, buy Johan Sebastian Crackersnatch's
Pirates of the Terrible Kind |