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Bagel Posthumously Awarded "Yitmotty"December 20, 2004 |
Red Bagel, pictured in an undated file photo, the same undated file photo we always use of him, could not be at this year's award ceremony, but his credit card footed the bill anyway.
Gay Bagel, a miserable shell of a man, praised his brother with backhanded compliments on Red's lifelong career of spending a lot of time on something never once profitable.
"What can we say about ...
hiter-than-white white man Red Bagel, founder and sometime-Editor of the commune was awarded his own publication's "You the Man of the Year" Award for the sixth year in a row, to no one's surprise. Bagel has been missing and presumed paranoid since the November re-election of evil incarnate George W. Bush, and Bagel's brother Gay presented the award posthumously to his own brother at a ceremony at the commune offices in Flatbush, New Jersey, even as Bagel's Caucasian manservant Rascal insisted his "master" was alive and willing to accept the award behind closed doors.
Gay Bagel, a miserable shell of a man, praised his brother with backhanded compliments on Red's lifelong career of spending a lot of time on something never once profitable.
"What can we say about Red that has not already been said in the poetry of stoned hippies everywhere," said Gay Bagel, reading from a fill-in-the-blanks form eulogy he acquired from the Internet. "My brother waged a war against the mentally stable everywhere in his attempts to spread the word of liars and morons. Without him around, the world is a little less prone to idiocy. But I've come here to bury Red, not to praise him, if I could but find the body. If I found him alive, then I would have come to bathe him and get him a clean suit, or at least have him cut his fingernails and stop dragging the name Bagel down into the sewers he smells like. I suppose all I really want to say here is: Red, if you are alive, anywhere, there are a lot of bills that haven't been paid yet and nobody can figure out how to get into the commune lockbox. All you here are witnesses—the man is this much closer to being declared dead, and soon I will be the boss of all of you."
And for the first time, the entire commune staff burst into tears at the thought of Red's passing.
Despite the sombering moment at the event, things cheered up when Rascal, representing Red Bagel himself, took the stage and promised us all our fearless editor was in the best of health, and thankful for his sixth consecutive win, making him the only person ever to win the YTMOTY, or "Yitmotty."
"Crikey, don't it beat all?" rattled the Australian manservant, who wore his best T-shirt to the ceremony. "Red misses y'all, I can assure ya, and soon as he feels it's 'all clear' to return to the surface, he's gonna join us for a three-week binge party of nothin' but lager, mates! Now… what say we drink up, for Red's sake?" Rascal, already drinking heavily before the announcement, devolved into a parade of Australian caterwauling understandable to no one, Australian or otherwise.
The event continued on into early evening hours, until most of us had drunken ourselves into a haze and all efforts to keep Omar Bricks away from the stereo finally failed. As 1980s nostalgia bombarded us through twin speakers, a few reporters spoke well of Red Bagel and his missing ass.
"There will never be another like Red Bagel—a man entirely devoted to his vision of a better America," said former Acting Editor Ramrod Hurley, now acting like a drunk. "An America of tomorrow, without fear and prejudice, without the suffering of the common man, and with a government forthright and honest with its own people. And now that he's gone, I call dibs on the boss job."
Hurley was bound, gagged, and wrapped in garish paper. The stamp on his head ordered us not to open until X-Mas, and I had to heartily agree. the commune news would like to apologize to its other Yitmotty runners-up, all nominated by the commune staff: Colin Powell, Colin Farrell, Martha Stewart, Quentin Tarantino, Kirsten Dunst, the guys who made Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas for Playstation2, the Da Vinci Code author Dan Da Vinci, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Arnold Schwarzenpepper, Dave Chappelle, and Spongebob Squarepants' buddy Patrick. commune correspondent Shabozz Wertham has serious doubts his vote for Farrakhan were taken seriously in our predominately-white-office offices.
 | Sales of HerpEase STD Treatment SkyrocketDecember 20, 2004 |
New York City Algor brochure Finally, beautiful people will no longer be afraid to gobble down STD drugs like they were circus peanuts
Finally bending to pressure from marketing experts, Algor has begun renaming its other not-quite-popular-enough drugs under the now commonplace industry practice of drug names that have nothing to do with a condition or its treatment. By the beginning of 2005, the ...
he pharmaceutical niche player Algor released startling fourth-quarter projections this week, a reversal of fortunes many in financial circles attribute to the company renaming many of its medications for the treatment of sexually transmitted diseases. Realizing that social embarrassment may play a part in the afflicted avoiding treatment for their cursed states, Algor saw fourth-quarter sales of their best selling herpes treatment ClearVue skyrocket after the drug was changed from its longstanding name of HerpEase.
Finally bending to pressure from marketing experts, Algor has begun renaming its other not-quite-popular-enough drugs under the now commonplace industry practice of drug names that have nothing to do with a condition or its treatment. By the beginning of 2005, the company hopes to offer a complete line of attractively-named treatments for the unfortunately STDed.
GonorRid, the company's industry-standard drug for the treatment of puss-laden malcontents suffering from gonorrhea, will be shipped to pharmacies under its new label of SmoothOperator beginning in January.
A similar fate awaits the company's pride and joy, Crabex, Algor's floundering treatment for pubic lice. After months of focus group testing, Algor has recently decided to rename the drug PartyZone.
Last but not least is SyphiLess, the company's breakthrough treatment for syphilis sufferers. Though Algor has yet to make an official announcement on the renaming of this drug, early leaked reports indicate that the drug will be called either Blissex or PissFree in 2005.
But will Algor's new approach be a success? To answer that question, we went straight to STD sufferers for the real dirt.
"Oh yeah, I'd definitely buy more if it was named something like Smurfies or something, that would definitely boost sales," according to porn impresario Tori Anus, a frequent Crabex user. "Then I'd stop getting those dirty looks from the dried up old bags at the Wal-Mart pharmacy. They'd just think I'd been fucking Smurfs or something."
Determined to dig deeper into the beans of the story, this reporter conducted further research among the loose women of 1-900-HOT-DATE, likely to be experts on the treatment of cock-borne illness. In addition to providing hours or stimulating conversation, Misty and Chakra also provided great advice about writing off the cost of the toll call as a business expense.
"Algor definitely has a hot idea on their hands there," insisted Misty, a buxom brunette with smoldering green eyes. "You're getting me hot just talking about it."
"Hot and naughty," agreed Chakra, a Thai-Scottish delight who insisted on conducting the telephone interview in the nude.
No doubt the executives at Algor have done similar research, since it's loads more fun than the alternative of company execs experimentally contracting STDs themselves to see if they feel embarrassed about getting treatment. So the New Year looks to be a happy one for Algor shareholders, who haven't heard news this good since the company changed its name from Cock Rot Ltd. in 1999, amid reports that investors were too embarrassed to purchase their stock. the commune news is a staunch believer in safe sex, which is one reason why this seat belt just ain't coming off, honey. Truman Prudy is the commune's expert on public shame and the midnight train to Georgia, which is a lot to fit on a business card. Office pervert Ramon Nootles could not be reached for comment on this story, as he was at the doctor getting a pap smear.
| Iraq occupation troops to enjoy long period of job security Site's Quantum Leap fan fiction lacks subtlety, convincing characterization Japanese Nikkei commits seppuku after closing in dishonor RIAA to hunt down individual music pirates, sodomize them |
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 January 3, 2005 What's a Cornhole?I have a question for my loyal readers, or even the disloyal ones, anyone who traipses over the column on their way to reading Entertainment Police or Pickle Barrel or maybe some guys stumble on the page by accident thinking commune is French for pussy or something, I don't know, the French probably have 50 words for it.
My question is: What's a cornhole?
Please don't laugh now, I've just never heard the term before. I grew up in California and we had no real experience with corn out there. I mean, we'd eat it, but it's not like in Iowa or nothing, we didn't go out and plant it and grow it and sit and watch it for hours and burn it for fun or nothing. We had television and yoga where I grew up, not ways to waste your time.
I tried asking my mom and...
º Last Column: Roasting Pockets O'Shannon
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I have a question for my loyal readers, or even the disloyal ones, anyone who traipses over the column on their way to reading Entertainment Police or Pickle Barrel or maybe some guys stumble on the page by accident thinking commune is French for pussy or something, I don't know, the French probably have 50 words for it.
My question is: What's a cornhole?
Please don't laugh now, I've just never heard the term before. I grew up in California and we had no real experience with corn out there. I mean, we'd eat it, but it's not like in Iowa or nothing, we didn't go out and plant it and grow it and sit and watch it for hours and burn it for fun or nothing. We had television and yoga where I grew up, not ways to waste your time.
I tried asking my mom and she passed out on the phone, which might be unusual except for the fact she does it all the time. My dad just went into a spiel about how back in his days the homosexuals didn't rub it in your face. I'm not sure what that has to do with corn or why the homosexuals would rub corn in your face, or what exactly it is that they rub in my dad's face that gets him so riled up, but it wasn't worth talking to him for another hour to figure it out.
I asked everybody at the commune and they just break out laughing, like when I ask who's supposed to edit my columns. Nobody would tell me at all, though Ramon Nootles offered to show me. I don't even want to talk to him after the last time he offered to show me something. Stu Umbrage actually did offer an explanation, but he would only speak in palindromes, so after an hour of him uttering only four words, three of which weren't even palindromes, I gave up. No answer at the commune.
I've heard "cornhole" plenty of times, usually in movies or reading through Omar Bricks' hate mail, but I'm never sure what it's supposed to mean by the context I find it in. It didn't bother me until I picked up a script over the weekend for a part I'm auditioning for next week. The movie is titled Cornhole but I couldn't really grasp the meaning of the word from reading my six-line part. You might guess, I don't like to read entire scripts because I don't want my character to know about things going on that my character wasn't there for, and I also hate to read.
Would you believe "cornhole" isn't in the Webster's dictionary? That's the assumption I'm going on. If anyone finds it in there, let me know. It will definitely be a surprise.
I guess it could be a Spanish word or something, maybe some kind of dip. Sometimes really artsy movies are titled after foreign words because that makes them smarter. If you called a movie Fartknocker you're not getting the same kind of audience as if you called it Le Knocquer de Flatulénte. As far as field research on the term and everything, I've never seen holes in corn. I suppose if you rip a corntree out of the ground the hole left could be called a cornhole, but what's the point of calling somebody that or referring to that in a prison?
So anyway, I hate to take up a whole column with this question, but I've got to find out, it's driving me nuts. Hurry up and let me know, if you can. Nothing would be worse than showing up at an audition for a movie called Cornhole and not knowing what it means. They'd think I'm an asshole or something. º Last Column: Roasting Pockets O'Shannonº more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“I have not yet begun to fight! When I have begun, it will look quite different. Fists will be flying about, and you will hear a high-pitched whistling sort of sound that will actually be a scream. In fact—I'll make a little hand gesture to let you know. When you see that, that will let you know I'm fighting.”
-John Paul Jones RingoFortune 500 CookieLove is a relative term, but even that nugget won't save your ass if you pork your cousin. Stay away from salty snacks this week, even if it means tunneling underground. Try wearing your watch on the other arm—maybe that's your problem. This week's lucky names: Alexia. Ephyn. Scatman. Toolio.
Try again later.Top Cruel New Rumors| 1. | Gay people can't whistle | | 2. | Tennessee quarter shows state trooper harassing black motorist | | 3. | French Stewart not actually French | | 4. | Cats love vodka | | 5. | Donald Trump is secret owner of McDonald's chain | |
|   Iraq Allowed to 'Work Off' $4.1 Billion Debt BY momo momo 12/27/2004 The IdiotadOf the men who challenged Telio, all were stout and broad-shouldered, hardened of skin and buttocks. They would fight for the glory and honor of Grazi, and perhaps piles and piles of treasure and the occasional loose woman.
And all of this, so the story goes, over the honor of a woman. A hippy, full-breasted woman with lips like a couple of pillows and a tendency to drink a little too much. She was Mildred, Mildred of Grazi, Mildred the golden haired, Mildred of two minds and unsure of who she would rather lie with tonight, Mildred the hussy. She had been chosen by a husband of Grazi, her downstairs neighbor Pithameneus of Grazi; she was taken to Telio by the young and golden-locked Penis.
Outraged, Pithameneus called on his brother Agriculturus, a former farmer...
Of the men who challenged Telio, all were stout and broad-shouldered, hardened of skin and buttocks. They would fight for the glory and honor of Grazi, and perhaps piles and piles of treasure and the occasional loose woman.
And all of this, so the story goes, over the honor of a woman. A hippy, full-breasted woman with lips like a couple of pillows and a tendency to drink a little too much. She was Mildred, Mildred of Grazi, Mildred the golden haired, Mildred of two minds and unsure of who she would rather lie with tonight, Mildred the hussy. She had been chosen by a husband of Grazi, her downstairs neighbor Pithameneus of Grazi; she was taken to Telio by the young and golden-locked Penis.
Outraged, Pithameneus called on his brother Agriculturus, a former farmer and swing king of Cappus. Agriculturus, or Aggie, of the bountiful forearms and delicious sweet corn; Agriculturus, the stubborn fuckhead; Agriculturus, he who has been rumored to have sampled from both sides of the plate, but still considers himself firmly heterosexual, no matter what certain coliseum graffiti might insinuate. Agriculturus came to the aid of his brother Pithameneus and brought 160 ships, all for the purpose of bringing Mildred back from Telio.
Men came to their aid, as men always seem to flock to Agriculturus, the less said about it the better. The first to arrive was Duckus, the swift, son of Doodius; Duckus the unwashed, he of the especially poor hygiene; Duckus the flatulent; Duckus, with the shortest toga in the land, he who could induce the vomitous response in many at once. He brought 6 particularly smelly ships.
The next to arrive was Jargis, the emasculated; Jargis, whose javelin throw was equivalent to that of the goddess Aphrodite, which is not a compliment; Jargis, who ornamented his shoes with rare stones and started gossip amongst the masses; Jargis, son of Unimax, who was quick to deny it. He brought twenty ships, but they were universally ridiculed by all others.
Also came Usyless, he of the lowest self-esteem in the land; Usyless, who needed constant reassurance in the slightest of tasks; Usyless, who raided the self-help section of the local library frequently, he who was quick to tears and too self-conscious of his weight; Usyless of the fad diet, he of not much help in a fight. He brought 40 ships, though no one asked for them.
Another to come was Prickus, the greatest of all assholes in Grazi; Prickus of the hurtful insults, he who was quick to borrow treasure and slower to return it; Prickus, with a girl in every port and a whore stashed away on every boat; Prickus with no friends, who sailed by himself and bossed people around until all good employees chose to jump overboard rather than face insults and endure his spiteful sarcasm for the entire voyage. He brought 1 ship, and was lucky to get it.
And finally was Killalles, the mightiest warrior of all; Killalles of Spago, son of Maximus Painus, who was somehow Roman; Killalles, who could pry stone from rock with his member, he of the arms too thick to wear a proper sweater; Killalles of the big teeth, not that anybody wanted to say such a thing in his presence if anybody knew what was good for him; Killalles who had the eye of every woman in the land, and even occasionally Agriculturus; Killalles with the single downfall of tremendous ego. He brought 89 boats, and one for the ego.
All of this for the love of a single woman, and in the humble opinion of this poet, under witness of the gods, it sure wasn’t worth it.
For more of this great story, buy Momo’s
The Idiotad   |
