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October 24, 2005 |
t’s almost the time of year to start pretending you’re Christmas shopping while you look for swanky new shit for yourself, and the commune is there for you with our first-ever annual Fall Gadget Guide. Join commune Tech Correspondent Mitch Kroeger as he guides you through the bewildering wilderness of the new and the shiny.
Casio Exslim EX-Z750
Now this is a nice little camera. The only problem is that the buttons are so small sometimes they get pressed when the camera’s in your pocket. This is a problem because I don’t wear any unde...
t’s almost the time of year to start pretending you’re Christmas shopping while you look for swanky new shit for yourself, and the commune is there for you with our first-ever annual Fall Gadget Guide. Join commune Tech Correspondent Mitch Kroeger as he guides you through the bewildering wilderness of the new and the shiny. Casio Exslim EX-Z750
Now this is a nice little camera. The only problem is that the buttons are so small sometimes they get pressed when the camera’s in your pocket. This is a problem because I don’t wear any underwear, so I end up with a lot of blurry shots of my dick. Still don’t see the problem? I didn’t either, but it made my mother in law throw up potato salad when she borrowed my camera. Advantage: Casio.
iPod Nano
This motherfucker is so skinny you can pick your teeth with it. Don’t, though: waterproof my ass! Also, don’t try tongue-kissing a girl when your tongue is all numb from electrical shock. There are only a few really kinky girls who don’t get all upset when you accidentally slip your tongue up their nose.
Roomba Discovery Vacuum Thing
This thing is absolutely the most expensive, funnest, and most high tech way possible to fuck with your dog. It’s awesome. You set this thing loose in your house and just crack open a beer and watch your dog go apeshit alternately trying to attack and flee from this bizarre little Star Wars vacuum droid. Of course, it’s all fun and games until your dog pisses on the thing in frustration, then it’s really fun games watching the finale as a tiny on-electrical-fire robot chases your dog around the house.
Sony VAIO VGN-TX670P
Now this is what I call a laptop. I don’t know if that’s technically correct or what, if it’s a notepad or tablet or UberPDA, Virtual Typewriter or whatever they’re calling this shit now. But I like this thing, whatever it is. It looks all space-age and shit and it flops open and shut so you can crack walnuts. Also, if you leave it on for a long time playing porn, it gets hot enough to make waffles. Fuck you, stewardess, you can keep your sad-ass little bag of nuts. I’m havin’ QWERTY waffles!
Motorola ROKR
This revolutionary new phone plays music, and not just when your phone’s ringing. About time, I say, I kept running up the bill on my old cell phone calling myself so I could hear “Tainted Love.” Motorola’s latest can play 100 songs, which is about 95 too many if you’ve got bad taste in music. But I guess technology can’t fix everything. I liked the ROKR plenty, except it sucks on the bus when you want to kick out the jams for everybody to enjoy, since it doesn’t play very loud at all. You’ve got to keep telling everybody to shut up and some people aren’t that big a fans of music or shutting up. Also, you’ve got to have a PHD to figure out how to get songs into the thing, it only comes with “Camptown Races” and I’m totally sick of that song now.
Motorola RAZR
I’ve always wanted to shave my balls while talking to my mom long distance, so Motorola’s RAZR cell phone seemed like a natural to me. I was actually pretty surprised that Motorola was on my wavelength there. Picture my disappointment though when the phone turned out to be pretty dull, causing some serious razor burn around the sack area even when used with shaving gel. Things improved markedly after I got it sharpened at the knife store at the mall, though. But you’ve got to remember not to leave the ringer on vibrate, or you’ll cut your fucking nose off if somebody calls while you’re shaving. Word to the wise.
Sharper Image Electric Dogshit Scraper
The best part of being an electronics reviewer has to be not having to scrape your own dogshit. Thanks a lot, Sharper Image. This thing will blast your shoe (or hat, really pretty much anything that’s got dogshit on it) with special ions that don’t do anything, and then de-poo the thing with a vibrating scrubber brush that’ll make your nads hard. The chicks dig it.
Querbo Dancing Robot from Sony
Gay, you have a new name, and it is Querbo. At first I thought this thing was kind of cool, like a midget robot henchman. I even named it Steve, surely an upgrade from Querbo. But when I brought it to the bar to show off, well let’s just say the night ended with yours truly being nearly kicked to death between the pinball machines. And Querbo. I’d rather not get into what became of that happy little dancing machine. Shudder.
Be sure to join us again next year when we’ll take a look at the iPod Video, the Petco Remote Control Dog Neuterer and the Nokia Earring Phone. Until then, stay tight. Mitch Kroeger is the commune’s resident resident, sleeping on the front stoop of the building as an urban legend hangover cure.
| October 10, 2005 |
Washington D.C. Junior Bacon Presidentish Bush delivers what many consider to be his most heartfelt speech to date resident Bush's Thursday morning speech to the National Endowment for Democracy was greeted by supporters and detractors alike as an important milestone, outlining more clearly both the president's thought processes and his positions on topics ranging from global terrorism to the increasingly chaotic situation in Iraq.
"Every rose has its thorn," Bush explained, addressing questions about the higher-than-expected casualty rate for U.S. soldiers stationed in Iraq. "Just like every night has its dawn. Just like every cowboy… uhm. Hmm. Yep," Bush nodded to himself in closure on that thought.
"How do we explain something that took us by surprise?" Bush continued after a thoughtful pause, addressing his administration's planning for the post-war rebuilding of Iraq. "Prom...
resident Bush's Thursday morning speech to the National Endowment for Democracy was greeted by supporters and detractors alike as an important milestone, outlining more clearly both the president's thought processes and his positions on topics ranging from global terrorism to the increasingly chaotic situation in Iraq. "Every rose has its thorn," Bush explained, addressing questions about the higher-than-expected casualty rate for U.S. soldiers stationed in Iraq. "Just like every night has its dawn. Just like every cowboy… uhm. Hmm. Yep," Bush nodded to himself in closure on that thought. "How do we explain something that took us by surprise?" Bush continued after a thoughtful pause, addressing his administration's planning for the post-war rebuilding of Iraq. "Promises in vain, what is real but in disguise. What happens now? Do we break another rule? Let the others play the fool? I don't know how to stop feeling this way…" "Hold on to the nights," Bush continued, finding his voice in the words of popular poet Richard Marx before trailing off in dramatic fashion. "Hold on to the memories. Wish that I could give you more, that I could be your…" Bush's comments were met by a stunned silence from the audience, except for one asshole who was waving a lighter. Coming under increasing pressure in recent months to justify the loss of life in Iraq, Bush also indulged the audience with his deepest philosophical thoughts on the subject of war and sacrifice. "We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong," explained Bush. "Lo... Iraq is a battlefield." "Shooting at the walls of heartache, bang, bang. I am the warrior," Bush cocked his fingers in a pistol gesture to drive his point home. "And heart to heart we'll win, if we survive," Bush assured onlisteners, possibly referring to the administration's campaign to win hearts and minds in the Middle East. "Just a little more time is all we're asking for," Bush continued, amid questions of how long U.S. troops will remain in Iraq. "Cause just a little more time could open closing doors. Just a little uncertainty can bring you down. So if you're lost and on your own, you can never surrender. And if your path won't lead you home, you can never surrender." "Never surrender!" repeated an excited Bush, striking something of a pose. Addressing the recent flooding disasters in Louisiana, Bush dug deep again and offered words of consolation to the survivors, returning this week to their destroyed homes and ruined shit. "Don't be afraid to lose what was never meant to be," consoled a paternal Bush. "After the rain washes away the tears, and all the pain, only after the rain can you live again. I know the emptiness you feel inside, you're thinking if you break away, you'll never survive. I'm waiting as my heart beats just for you. Come on and take my hand and I'll pull you through. But things will never change until you want them to." "It cuts like a knife," Bush said in closing, when some wiseacre in the back row yelled a question about global terrorism. "Ooh, but it feels so right." Just when you thought the chance had passed, the commune news went and saved the best for last: this. Lil Duncan is the commune's Washington correspondent, and claims she will retain that title indefinitely, regardless of whether or not Denzel ever writes back.
| Viagra company CEO grilled on flaccid outlook; stands firm Hurricane Fred heard to remark: Wiiiiiillllllmmaaaaa! U.S. bubonic plague plan hopelessly out of date Argument over which hotties men would do turns violent |
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October 24, 2005 In CognitoHave you ever seen Tom Cruise slying around town, trying not to be recognized? Well, if you live in one of the piss-poor excuses for a town that aren't Los Angeles or New York City, it's not likely you have. But if you do live in the regular world I do, you probably have. The sunglasses, the hat—it's all a disguise. There's a very attractive celebrity under that stuff!
Because celebrities are often actors or performers in some way, they have an innate ability to disguise themselves. You can't teach that kind of stuff, and it's good we already know it because no one does teach it. Celebrities know that putting on a hat shields the hair area and the forehead from being recognized—and the sunglasses? They expertly hide the eye area, which is important place to be seen so a cel...
º Last Column: Life Among the Proles º more columns
Have you ever seen Tom Cruise slying around town, trying not to be recognized? Well, if you live in one of the piss-poor excuses for a town that aren't Los Angeles or New York City, it's not likely you have. But if you do live in the regular world I do, you probably have. The sunglasses, the hat—it's all a disguise. There's a very attractive celebrity under that stuff! Because celebrities are often actors or performers in some way, they have an innate ability to disguise themselves. You can't teach that kind of stuff, and it's good we already know it because no one does teach it. Celebrities know that putting on a hat shields the hair area and the forehead from being recognized—and the sunglasses? They expertly hide the eye area, which is important place to be seen so a celebrity can be recognized for their famous features. If you ever see a celebrity in a movie—and you probably will—wearing glasses or something, you'll notice they'll always take them off so the audience can say, "Hey! It's (so and so)!" The reason for this is that normal non-celebrity people cannot see a celebrity in real life without storming them like a rampaging rhino. That's dangerous enough, and if there's more than one it can cause a riot. How would you like to be standing there, famous and all, and all of a sudden be swarmed by a couple hundred ravenous fans? Well, it's not gonna happen to you. But for celebrities, it sure sucks. That's why they wear the stuff they do. For you novices out there, I'll give you some quick tips for going "in cognito," as we celebrities call it: The hair and eye areas need to be disguised. I've seen some celebrities disguise themselves with facial hair, and if you're as famous as J-Lo it's a good idea. But really it's a mistake to spend a lot of time and risk doing yourself permanent facial damage just to cover your chin and nasal ridge. Unless you're really famous for your chin, like Jay Leno or Popeye, it's not going to make a difference. Hair and eye areas. I repeat: Hair and eye areas. I remember one time, this should tell you how fantastic an in-cognito artist I am: I was being followed into a grocery store once by a lunatic fan/bill collector. There's not a hat in the store, and all the sunglasses are sold out. Anybody else would've panicked and signed the autographs/summons papers. Not Clarissa Coleman. I made a quick disguise out of a box of Kellogg's Cornflakes and some Fruit Rollups—I literally had to eat the eyeholes out of my "glasses," and I was picking cornflakes out of my hair for hours. But I sure as hell got out of that store without signing anything. An expert? If I can say so modestly, fuck yeah. If you're wondering what all this has to do with anything, it should be obvious by now: Since I'm no longer going to be using these skills on a regular basis as a big-time celebrity (having walked away, by choice, from the spotlight) I decided I would pass these skills onto tomorrow's generation of stars. For a price, of course, I'm not some good-hearted Gandhi giving it away for free. The classes will be $30 a day, or $60 per hour. This is all based on how much money I think you'll spend on it. And don't go asking for acting lessons, because I've been ordered by a judge not to teach any more acting classes for money—apparently it constitutes fraud in this state. So all you get is the disguise lessons. It's just like the old expression goes—if you're going to act the part, dress the part first. º Last Column: Life Among the Prolesº more columns |
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Quote of the Day“Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes! Or, if they're wearing sunglasses, just aim for the balls. Cocky shits.”
-General Dicky PrescottFortune 500 CookieThat noise outside your bushes? It's just me. Something important tomorrow, but I can't remember if it's "lottery" or "leprosy"… Don't forget to check under refrigerator; it's shrimp, that's what you're smelling. Lucky numbers 15 and Qwiddley-Two.
Try again later.Top Five Worst Things to Hear in an Iraqi Prison1. | "Oh, wow! Hold still, let me get my camera!" | 2. | "From now on, the conduct of corrections officers will be supervised by Private Pyle." | 3. | "Looks like we're going to be here a while. Good thing I brought my harmonica." | 4. | "These tattoos? Aryan Brotherhood." | 5. | "And another thing—you jokers have cried 'Rape!' once too often. I'm not falling for it anymore." | |
| Conservative Woman FoundBY red bagel 10/24/2005 A Fistful of Tannenbaum, Chapter 17: King's ConspiracyEditor's Note: Having time-traveled back to the years of King Arthur, adventure-loving Jed Foster was living the sweet life as a V.I.P. guest of the king himself when he became smitten with smittenesque Princess Penny, the most beautiful girl in the King's court and his personal favorite. The King noticed, you can bet your poor person's crown, and immediately began plotting Jed's death.
Chapter 17: King's Conspiracy
Jed Foster found Princess Penny throwing horseshoes in the back of the castle, by the toolshed. It was one of the only times he could be sure to catch her alone, just her and her 53 handmaidens.
"There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere," said Jed. It wasn't true, but it sounded stupid to say, "There you are,...
Editor's Note: Having time-traveled back to the years of King Arthur, adventure-loving Jed Foster was living the sweet life as a V.I.P. guest of the king himself when he became smitten with smittenesque Princess Penny, the most beautiful girl in the King's court and his personal favorite. The King noticed, you can bet your poor person's crown, and immediately began plotting Jed's death. Chapter 17: King's Conspiracy Jed Foster found Princess Penny throwing horseshoes in the back of the castle, by the toolshed. It was one of the only times he could be sure to catch her alone, just her and her 53 handmaidens. "There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere," said Jed. It wasn't true, but it sounded stupid to say, "There you are, in the exact place I'd knew you'd be." "I'm always out here tossing horseshoes," Penny reminded him. "I'm hoping to turn pro next year." "I've already begun making you a pair of shoes for when you do," reminded Jed with a smirk. It made him chuckle a little, to remember all the wealth and fortune he left behind in the future, his past, where he was loved by no one, but respected by all. And then to come to a world like this, where he had not a penny to his name, and no one knew who he was. But he had a feeling they all respected him deep in their subconscious, even if they couldn't say why. And he only wanted one penny—the princess, the prettiest maiden of them all. Jed threw all the woo he could find at Princess Penny, knowing woo-tossing was the best way to win a girl when you didn't have any money. He told her she had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, and beautiful golden hair like strands of woven gold that he wanted to chop off and bury so only he could find it. And her ass was nice, too. He hoped she wouldn't ask about her teeth, because then he would have to lie and say they were nice, despite the fact they were made of poorly carved wood. What do you expect? It was the Middle Ages. But while Jed tried to bag an attractive historical babe, the King was not oblivious—which meant he knew what was happening. The King was in a parapet high above the horseshoe courtyard, watching Jed's smooth moves on the medieval honey. He stroked his reddish beard as he stood by the window, leg perched up on a bench or something. I sort of picture Richard Harris in Camelot in the role, and if you would picture him that way too it would save me a lot of describing time. "He's quite the lovemaker, isn't he, Catpants?" The King's faithful counselor, Catpants, stood by obediently, so it wasn't like the King was talking to himself. "I wouldn't know, King, we've only shaken hands," said Catpants. "If the King is sick of the time-traveler, why doesn't the King simply have him beheaded for treason or some other made up crime?" "No," said the King, "that's just what he would expect. Besides, the people would probably be extremely outraged if I killed him. They obviously had tremendous natural respect for him, even if they don't quite realize it yet. No… no, Catpants… I have a better plot in store for Mr. Bigshot Time-Traveler Jed Foster. Mr. Foster is about to be promoted to Supreme Knight of the King's Army. And he'll leave tomorrow to do battle with the Pope's Legion of the Damned… where he'll surely be slain in battle!" "I'm sorry, sir, I left the room for a minute. Could you repeat that?" But the King had already put his plan in motion, and it was too late for repeating. Next Chapter: The Pope War |