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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 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 ...
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. 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 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.
 | Egyptian flight crashes without terrorist help, thank you very much Mark Buckles Some Sort of Cockwad Everyone kind of a little relieved Bob Hope finally dead Yale bombed, Harvard too drunk to walk home |
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 August 23, 2004 Iraqi Politics Made SimpleI have been forcing others to study Iraqi politics so I can have a firm understanding of that region of the world "gisted" to me, so I might answer several important questions all on our minds: How long will our troops be in Iraq? What is our purpose of remaining there for all this time? What does Iraq stand for, it's some kind of acronym, right?
No, No, and No. Things are so infinitely complicated in Iraq, unlike over here in the States, that we may never entirely leave. Several parties are vying for control of Iraq, and they disagree on several key political points. Fortunately, they do agree on one thing: They all hate America.
This is no surprise. Anybody who has watched Fox News recently knows Middle Easterners love to burn American flags, with a proven hi...
º Last Column: History Reaganed º more columns
I have been forcing others to study Iraqi politics so I can have a firm understanding of that region of the world "gisted" to me, so I might answer several important questions all on our minds: How long will our troops be in Iraq? What is our purpose of remaining there for all this time? What does Iraq stand for, it's some kind of acronym, right?
No, No, and No. Things are so infinitely complicated in Iraq, unlike over here in the States, that we may never entirely leave. Several parties are vying for control of Iraq, and they disagree on several key political points. Fortunately, they do agree on one thing: They all hate America.
This is no surprise. Anybody who has watched Fox News recently knows Middle Easterners love to burn American flags, with a proven history of providing warmth during cold desert nights. But why do they hate us so? There are two schools of thought on the subject. One, they hate us for political meddling in the scene, attempting to maneuver their elections and political parties, cutting deals with puppet governments to pillage the land for its natural riches, and when all else fails, taking what we want by force. Or two, because we are so cool and have everything they want. Which is the correct reasoning? No one can say, at least they can't since I won't go over there and find out. Way too dangerous.
Let's look at a simple breakdown of Iraq's political factions: Al-Dawaa, or the Islamic Call, one of the oldest America-hating parties, who also hated Saddam Hussein. Now he's gone, so they're back to hating America again.
The Supreme Council for Islamic Revolution in Iraq, or SCIRI (pronounced "Scary"), another armed group of fundamentalists Islamics who would prefer to see clerical rule—and guess how they feel about the United States? They're not fans.
The Iraq National Accord, headed by new interim Prime Minister Iyad Allawi, who used to work with the U.S. C.I.A. and State Department, just like our old friend Osama bin Laden. Yep, not a good resume. They used to preach democracy in Iraq, but now have turned their sights on clerical rule. Real wide variety of options developing over there.
The Iraqi National Congress. Real stand-up sounding name, right? Unfortunately, their leader Ahmed Chalabi has been banned from all meetings deciding the future of Iraq, for alleged criminal activities. Just like our Congressmen.
Then there's several Kurd-driven groups, kind of like our Green Party over here. You would think that would be hopeful, but guess what? The Kurds hate us since Bush Sr. pulled support he promised against Saddam Hussein. So we're universally boned in fairly electing a leader for Iraq that doesn't despise us. Not that the Bush administration has any love for fair elections.
So what can we do? If we're going to rig an election, who do we put in power over there? I say Al Gore. He ought to be popular with the Iraqis, at least as popular as an American can get, since he won the popular election against Bush and still got screwed over by the man—talk about something in common. Plus, we owe him something. I, for one, would love to tune in CNN and see a lovable, stoic Al Gore addressing people in traditional Islamic attire about the dangers of greenhouse gases. Come on, let's give it a good ol' college try. º Last Column: History Reaganedº more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our capacity for customer service. Yes I'll hold.”
-Elvin EinschwartzFortune 500 CookieYou will find Love in a new job this week. Unfortunately it's Courtney Love, and she's your second-shift supervisor. Cheer up, it's not that nobody cares about you; it's just that nobody's willing to admit to it. Everyone's right: Your irrational hatred of the Chinese is starting to hurt your chopstick business. This week's lucky stars: Sirius, Orion, Omega 13, Pauley Shore.
Try again later.Top Selling commune Paraphernalia1. | the commune's Book on Tape: Everyone's favorite verbose classic War & Peace printed in tiny type on the non-sticky side of a roll of Scotch tap | 2. | The "I Sued the commune for Libel and All I Got Was This Lousy Mug" Mug | 3. | "Pin the Paternity Suit on Lil Duncan's Babydaddy" Home Game | 4. | Boris Utzov Guide of English Slang | 5. | Ivana Folger-Balzac. Please, somebody take Ivana Folger-Balzac. | |
|   Newest Governors Already Recalled BY v.d. whistling 7/12/2004 Harvey Potluck and the Wish BitchHarvey's third year at Hogwash Military Academy and Magic Technical School was off to a most depressing beginning indeed. First, the mustache hadn't grown in like he had hoped at all. Then, that unfortunate incident where he was caught in an indecent act with his broomstick, which earned him the vulgar nickname "Stickfucker" to be endured all year long. Then he found out Phenom Retarded, the devious bastard who had helped kill his parents, was released on shock probation by an old insane magic judge. What a shitty year.
When things seemed they could get no worse, an ominous expression meaning they of course did get worse, he was called to Professor Opatricka Robinson's office. The Asst. Principal of Hogwash had always been very cool to him, but not cool like the guys it's oka...
Harvey's third year at Hogwash Military Academy and Magic Technical School was off to a most depressing beginning indeed. First, the mustache hadn't grown in like he had hoped at all. Then, that unfortunate incident where he was caught in an indecent act with his broomstick, which earned him the vulgar nickname "Stickfucker" to be endured all year long. Then he found out Phenom Retarded, the devious bastard who had helped kill his parents, was released on shock probation by an old insane magic judge. What a shitty year.
When things seemed they could get no worse, an ominous expression meaning they of course did get worse, he was called to Professor Opatricka Robinson's office. The Asst. Principal of Hogwash had always been very cool to him, but not cool like the guys it's okay to smoke pot around. Cool in the British sense—bitchy.
"Ah," she said, as Harvey entered the door. "There you are, Potluck. I scarcely recognized you, you've grown so tall this year. And that ridiculous mustache."
"It's coming in," he insisted. "I just shaved it. So lay off."
"My, my, Mr. Potluck," she said, slamming a book shut and putting it on her desk. "You've developed quite the rebellious streak, haven't you, young man?" Harvey said nothing. "Would you like that mustache to come in fuller, perhaps?"
He didn't answer. She raised her eyebrows and stiffened her upper lip, demanding him to speak.
"I guess so," he said. And then—poof! In the magic sense. Harvey's mustache blossomed into full bushiness. He looked not unlike Freddie Prinz.
"My word, that's more like it!" exclaimed Professor Opatricka with a smile. "That's a handsome mustache indeed."
"Shit peckers, Professor Opatricka!" replied Harvey. "However did my mustache grow in so fast? Magic?"
"Duh. But not just any kind of magic, Harvey—the wishing kind. The same kind millions of children and naïve adults make every time they blow out candles, see a shooting star, or pluck out the eyelashes of their victims."
"Wow!" said Harvey, running his fingers through his luxurious new 'stache. "But wishes—do they really come true?"
"Don't sound so gay when you say that, Harvey!" said Professor Opatricka. "Of course wishes come true! Especially when you're a Wish Bitch."
"A Wish Bitch!" Harvey needlessly repeated. He had heard of such things before, Wish Bitches. They were a small but powerful collective of magic beings who descended from the Druids, and listened to the Doobie Brothers. Like many things at Hogwash, they were rumored to exist, but conveniently not seen until they became major plot machinations. But Wish Bitches were illegal, for some reason—why would Professor Opatricka risk her secret with him?
"Professor Opatricka," began Harvey, "I want you to know, I won't tell anyone you're a Wish Bitch."
"Damn right you won't, stickfucker," she said. She hoisted her stocking leg up on her desk and pulled her skirt back to reveal her thigh. "It's hard work being a Wish Bitch, kid. Always knocking yourself out casting wishes that only work for other people. Well, it's about time one of my wishes came true."
What followed probably shouldn't be described in this book, but I'm writing it up anyway. Maybe I'll publish it in a magazine.
For more of this great story, buy V.D. Whistling's
Harvey Potluck and the Wish Bitch   |