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Middle East Peace Treaty: Everybody Out March 18, 2002 |
The Middle East MRS. BIRD/GRAPHICS D New population breakdown of the post-treaty Middle East
“I am glad we have finally settled this long, brutal time of unrest,” Saudi Crown Prince Abdullah told five men in a barren stadium as echoes filled all around him. “I look forward to a long time of peace and prosperity, and hopefully repopulating our lands.”
“We have much to be thankful for,” said Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, to a small group of friends he had invited over for Pictionary. â...
treaty was signed Friday declaring peace between Israel and its surrounding Arab nations, something few thought they would see in their lifetime. And this time there is high expectations the treaty will hold, meaning peace for the 349 people still residing in the Middle East following a massive exodus of hardline and extremists Arabs and Israelites. “I am glad we have finally settled this long, brutal time of unrest,” Saudi Crown Prince Abdullah told five men in a barren stadium as echoes filled all around him. “I look forward to a long time of peace and prosperity, and hopefully repopulating our lands.” “We have much to be thankful for,” said Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, to a small group of friends he had invited over for Pictionary. “Our perseverance and tolerance have paid off, and finally we are at peace with our neighbors. We may still have disagreements, but they will be settled with smiles and handshakes rather than bullets and fire.” It was Prince Abdullah who first proposed the necessary solution for peace: Ousting of hardliners, extremists, radicals, and others who would not help the peace process, or even hinder it. During week-long discussions with Prime Minister Sharon and representatives of other Arab nations, the decision was reached that someone had to go if there was to be peace. So they did. With the help of U.S. and U.N. troops, in busload after busload, one plane after another, extremists on both sides were rounded up and deported from each country. Some voluntarily admitted their stance against the process of peace or making concessions to opposing countries, others were rooted out by previous statements or funny looks given when told of the plan for peace. Whether taken by force or collusion, any oppositions of peace were removed so as to allow a smooth and uncontested transition to the Middle East’s new peace. All critics or challengers of the peace process have a new home in Antarctica, where they will found a new country, christened by President Bush as Boomtown. The president liked the name as he coined it, but admitted, “If the new residents of Boomtown can stop fighting for five seconds to agree on a new name, by all means, call it something else.” The huge population shift has already been a boon to the residents of the Middle East, who find themselves among the richest nations in the non-Western world now with their remaining wealth divided up among the remaining 349 residents. “Allah be praised,” said passive Saudi Koran teacher Aburah Kahim. “I knew my wisdom and goodness would be rewarded. Should my new Jewish neighbors wish to make the journey to my house, we will have a full pork-free dinner at my table.” Things are not looking so well for the new residents of Boomtown, who find themselves the poorest nation on earth overnight. And though the country has been in existence for only 72 hours, their murder rate far surpasses their predicted Gross National Product already. Their first planned meeting of Parliament was postponed Saturday after six suicide bombers of various ethnic origin destroyed the ice cave where the meeting was to be held. “I miss the West Bank,” one Palestinian youth was heard to say before a steady stream of rocks pounded him from behind. the commune news firms abs and tightens thighs and buttocks, but never our own. Ivan Nacutchacokov has recently taken to impersonating a hat rack when ex-wife Ivana walks by—he’s so good at it we’re thinking of promoting him to wastebasket.
 | Colin Powell An Ass ManSecretary of State, war hero likes butts and cannot lie March 18, 2002 |
Washington, D.C. Ansel Evans Oh, yeah, Secretary of State likey
"Sure enough," Powell said, addressing a room full of inquisitive teen-agers and fine ladies, "I am, always have been, and always will be a connoisseur of sweet asses."
"Don't get me wrong," Powell continued, "I love every part of a tasty young lady—and I do mean every part. But if you nailed me down, oh, I don't know, say held a gun to my hand and demanded to know… it's true, folks. I'm a rear admiral."
Previous statements from sources close to the Secretary of State have suggested he loves big and bouncy titties, ...
.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell answered an M-TV audience's question on the show Be Heard: An M-TV Global Discussion With Colin Powell that, despite contradictory claims by friends and gossipers, he is indeed an ass man.
"Sure enough," Powell said, addressing a room full of inquisitive teen-agers and fine ladies, "I am, always have been, and always will be a connoisseur of sweet asses."
"Don't get me wrong," Powell continued, "I love every part of a tasty young lady—and I do mean every part. But if you nailed me down, oh, I don't know, say held a gun to my hand and demanded to know… it's true, folks. I'm a rear admiral."
Previous statements from sources close to the Secretary of State have suggested he loves big and bouncy titties, the bigger the better. One close friend, female, assured the press Powell was a legman, and couldn't resist a sweet mama with a long pair of "sex handles."
"Again, nothing wrong with a nice pair up there or down there," Powell said with a sly grin, running his hands sensuously against the podium, "but you all have me wrong. I'm into hip fox with a loose caboose."
As if proving his statement, as he exited the press room, Powell stopped and craned his neck trying to catch a glimpse of a female M-TV intern with a fully-loaded trunk on the way up the press aisle. "Mmm-mmm-MMM!" Powell grunted under his breath, shaking his head to escape the vision and exiting quietly. the commune news is presented in anamorphic widescreen to preserve its original theatrical aspect ratio of 2.35:1. Lil Duncan is the commune's Washington correspondent and therefore gets a parking space close to the building while hard-working tiny-type writers have to hoof it in from two blocks away.
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 July 7, 2003 Even Better Than the Reality Thingthe commune's Omar Bricks, coming to a real world near you Somebody just told me the other day that the big thing these days is reality TV. Apparently there's some show where a bunch of idiots are stuck on an island and they have to do goofy things every week to survive. I told that dope that Omar Bricks has been hip to Gilligan's Island for years, but it turns out he was talking about a different show. Just goes to prove the saying that everything old is new again. Except Bob Hope, damn. That guy's so old his odometer rolled over and they're putting single-digit candles on his birthday cake again. If I ever get that old there'd better be some magnificent future world for me to sit around and bitch about, that's all I can say.
I guess the thing now is that everybody's got cameras in their houses and people sit around and watch ...
º Last Column: Mail Order Bride Monopoly
º more columns
Somebody just told me the other day that the big thing these days is reality TV. Apparently there's some show where a bunch of idiots are stuck on an island and they have to do goofy things every week to survive. I told that dope that Omar Bricks has been hip to Gilligan's Island for years, but it turns out he was talking about a different show. Just goes to prove the saying that everything old is new again. Except Bob Hope, damn. That guy's so old his odometer rolled over and they're putting single-digit candles on his birthday cake again. If I ever get that old there'd better be some magnificent future world for me to sit around and bitch about, that's all I can say.
I guess the thing now is that everybody's got cameras in their houses and people sit around and watch other families on TV, that's the hot thing right now. When I was a kid they kicked your ass for that kind of thing, but I guess it's all kosher now that it's Alice Cooper's family or whatever on TV. It is kind of funny when he bites the head off of shit at the dinner table, but I still think The Munsters did it better, and first. I don't remember anybody gossiping back then about whether or not Grandpa was going to beat breast cancer, there must've been more going on in the world back then.
People apparently can't get enough of this reality stuff, even if it sucks. Actually especially if it sucks, from what I've heard. These people wouldn't know a good reality show if it snuck up behind them and made them bungee jump naked into a pie tin full of rats. If this isn't a situation screaming for Bricks-style intervention, then neither was last month's slot car racing semifinals.
It's obvious that what the world needs is a dose of true reality, Omar Bricks-level reality. The good shit. So I've taken as my solemn duty to outfit Osaka with Ramrod Hurley's stolen home video camera and gave her specific pantomimed instructions not to let a single morsel of Bricksian reality go untaped from now on. I even got her a shirt from the show COPS so people won't hassle her for filming in casinos or strangers' backyards or other such normally taboo locales.
If these people think Alice Cooper getting a rubber chocolate Easter bunny lodged in his colon is entertaining, they've obviously never seen what an actual real person can do with an air cannon that shoots tennis balls on fire in Amish country.
I'm not sure what we're going to call the show, maybe something clever like "Run, It's the Cops!" with Omar Bricks or maybe The Masked Reality Badass if I anticipate legal hassles. Some dude told me they already have that show and it's called Jackass, which you can guess got him stuffed down a port-a-john like instant magic. If there's one thing I won't tolerate, it's insults disguised as information.
Some might ask how a guy who's never seen a reality show is going to revolutionize the genre, but that kind of thinking is the exact reason you're not a genius yourself. All the hot new shit comes from guys who don't know what the hell they're doing. Just look at the Beatles: Half the time they didn't even have the tape running the right way and Paul held his guitar all retarded and backwards like he'd never seen one before. I hear sometimes they even let the freakin' drummer sing, not exactly a batch of Julliard grads. Mozart himself didn't know thing one about music, how could he? Dude was only five when he died. When I was five, I thought swearing into a kazoo was music. But people back then were sick of all that bullshit harpsichord music and they went ape for some kid dicking around on a piano. And that changed music forever.
By the way, if you happen to see an Omar Bricks-looking dude jogging down your street with a diminutive Asian camerawoman in tow, try to cover up any corporate logos you might be wearing. I don't think we've got the budget for that shit. Thanks.
Bricks out. º Last Column: Mail Order Bride Monopolyº more columns | 
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Milestones1750: Antonio Salieri, second-rate composer and eternal inspiration to the commune. His alleged murder of Mozart, as portrayed in Amadeus, forever encourages us in our war with Crochet! magazine.Now HiringStepchild. Just sit around and eat and drink me out of house and home without ever raising a finger. Hey, I'm talking to you, you little shit. There ain't no law says I got to be nice to you just 'cause I'm knocking boots with your mom.Top 5 Worst Things to Hear in a Blackout| 1. | Let's play Guess Who's Not Wearing Pants? | | 2. | Did you ever hear how electricity was invented? Funny story… | | 3. | We'll find our way out by lighting my farts. | | 4. | Say, this feels like a tumor. | | 5. | Wow, we're trapped in an elevator with Ashton Kutcher! | |
|   Yates Trial Inspires Color-Coded "Insanity" Chart BY roland mcshyster 3/17/2003 Oscar fever is upon us, ladies and gentlemen, and fear not: that puss-like discharge is a completely normal symptom. Hollywood is throwing all of its bulimia-managed weight around in an effort to whip us all into an Oscar frenzy, until we're running around like assholes, buying movie hats and snatching up tickets for movies we've never heard of. Since after all, they must be good if Hollywood wanted to artificially boost their box-office by leveraging back-room deals for Oscar nominations, right? They wouldn't go to all of that trouble for a turkey, would they? Don't be silly. So let's ratchet up the anticipation to an uncomfortable level before the big night with one final look at the nominees!
Best Picture
Chicago&nb...
Oscar fever is upon us, ladies and gentlemen, and fear not: that puss-like discharge is a completely normal symptom. Hollywood is throwing all of its bulimia-managed weight around in an effort to whip us all into an Oscar frenzy, until we're running around like assholes, buying movie hats and snatching up tickets for movies we've never heard of. Since after all, they must be good if Hollywood wanted to artificially boost their box-office by leveraging back-room deals for Oscar nominations, right? They wouldn't go to all of that trouble for a turkey, would they? Don't be silly. So let's ratchet up the anticipation to an uncomfortable level before the big night with one final look at the nominees! Best Picture Chicago -read EP review- I've already given the city of Chicago enough free publicity by refusing to review their movie a few months back. I'm not about to add insulin to injury by talking it up more, here. More than I already have, anyway. So I'm stopping. Right… Now!
Gays of New York -read EP review-
Hands down the best gay film of the year. Notice I didn't say the "gayest best film," because that would be improper English, or "gayest good film," because that honor belongs to the overpoweringly gay epic Sweet Homo Alabama. GoNY, however, is good and gay in its own right. Though some thought the disco club rumbles in the film were too graphic, I think that the film would have lost its realism if they had left out all of the hair-pulling and name-calling. Some might argue that the film is too gay to win the big prize, but that didn't stop Cool Hand Luke, now did it? Even money says this one makes off with the naked-guy statue.
The Hours -read EP review-
There's some kind of standing rule with the Academy where if all of the reviewers fall asleep during a certain movie, they have to nominate it for Best Picture. Partly just tradition, I think, but also none of those guys want to admit they weren't deep enough to power through some ass-numbing exploration of a woman's spirit filmed in real-time with no cuts or bathroom breaks. The Hours is the secret shame of this year's nominee class, and I understand why. Getting through this movie is like serving a tour in Vietnam, only hard. Look out for this one as a dark-horse candidate for the win if none of the voters can get through the video.
The Lords of the Ring: The Out of Towners -read EP review-
What was supposed to be either the best gay movie of the year, or at least the gayest best movie of the year, turned out to be the least-gay mediocre movie that was supposed to be better and more gay. Peter, Paul and Mary Jackson pulled a fast one with this wild departure from the modern classic original, and I don't mean the good kind of "fast one" like in an airplane lavatory. Steve Martin is obviously acting upon orders from individuals who have kidnapped his family, but the directors, at least, should have known better. The series still has a chance to redeem itself, but early word is that the third film will star Lou Diamond Phillips. Really. If this one wins the Oscar it'll be because someone's a big fan of "The Hammer Song".
The Pianist -read EP review-
Funny, sure, but I doubt they're going to want to have to show a clip montage of past Oscar winners that includes a midget in a sleeping bag being mistakenly used as a giant tampon for a whale. In this case, the nomination is the award, and a secret thank-you to the Farley brothers for cutting the title down from their original The Princess and the Pianist.
Best Director
Rob Marshall, Chicago -read EP review-
I'm not kidding, piss off with the Chicago stuff.
Martin Scorsese, Gays of New York -read EP review-
It's fitting that Scorsese should invent the gay-boxing epic (with 1945's lesbian opus Raging Bull), see it aped masterfully in last year's Lords of the Ring, and then turn around and trump them all with this gay disco masterpiece. I don't know how they'll end up copying his latest coup, maybe they'll make Saturday Night Fever again, but I hope they just leave well enough alone.
Roger Daltry, The Hours -read EP review-
Roger Daltry must've been too wasted away in Margaritaville to jump on the "Rock Stars Directing Blockbuster Movies" bandwagon last year, and when he did finally show up to direct something, a year late and with his pants only half on and his eyes all bloodshot, it isn't a pretty picture. Pun most definitely intended. Some directing classes or rehab time couldn't have hurt, and it's pretty clear there are a few scenes where he dozed off while the camera was running. After the world-ending badness of Tommy, it's not like we were expecting anything better than a kick in the nuts here, but I still left feeling vaguely disappointed, and sore.
The Farley Brothers, The Pianist -read EP review-
At first glance this may seem like one of the Academy's usual gag nominations, but for once I think they're actually acknowledging the skill it takes to get a camera crew up an elephant's ass.
Pedro AlmovĂłvar, Talk to Her
Now here's the gag nomination. Fairly uncreative by Academy standards, but maybe they've got some inside joke about a guy waking up in bed with some Mexican dude and saying "Pedro, I'll move over and talk to her" that makes it hilarious. You never know.
Best Actor
Adrien Brody, The Pianist -read EP review-
Finally, that funny guy from Mallrats gets his due, though of course he had to unwittingly have sex with a buffalo to get it. That's the price we all have to pay. But who knew he had a poofy first name like "Adrien"? No wonder we haven't seen him in more action vehicles.
Nicolas Cage, Adaptato
Only Nicolas Cage, or possibly Robin Williams, (maybe Gerald Ford) could pull off the lead role in this heavily bizarre Mr. Potato Head movie. But Cage does it with more panache, funny noses and sour cream than anyone had a right to expect. Maybe now he'll finally get to take a crack at the big-budget action roles he's always been denied because of that crazy look on his face.
Daniel Day-Lewis, Gays of New York -read EP review-
Daniel Day is just amazing in this film. His shoes match every outfit… even the ones you wouldn't think would go with anything. In addition, he does the gay thing better than most supposedly gay people. Give the man a restaurant already.
Toby Keith, The Quiet American
Another gag nomination that provides a polite smile and little else. Maybe the Academy needs to hire some new writers.
Jack Nicholson, About Shit -read EP review-
Jack is the man, even when he's not a man (see Kangaroo Jack, 2003. Actually, don't see it, since it was kind of rank, but think of it when you read that comment) and the Academy has never been afraid to French-kiss his two Jakes. Woah, excuse me. Just barfed. Got too vivid there even for my own self. Anyway, there are few men on earth who can carry a film in which absolutely nothing happens, and thankfully for us Jack is one of them. I'm not sure who the others would me, maybe Jesus or that Jonestown guy. I hear he was pretty charismatic.
Best Actress
Salma Hayek, Fritos
Best snack-food movie since Kurosawa's Ramen-dan, and Salma Hayek makes eating Fritos look like something we should all do, naked.
Nicole Kidman, The Hours -read EP review-
To be honest I forgot she was in this; she must have come in after I tried to kill myself by choking on a Whopper. The candy, you think I want to die with Burger King in my mouth? Ick.
Nathan Lane, Unfaithful
Proving he's just as good at playing a chick as he is at playing a really effeminate man, Nathan Lane won a lot of fans this year, many of whom would beat the shit out of themselves if they knew they were lusting after a dude.
Julianne Moore, Farhvergnugen
Though Moore should probably be recognized for the best performance anyone has ever given in a two-hour car commercial, I got sick of that "Da da da" song after about ten seconds and I think it may have soured me on her as a human being.
Renée Zellweger, Chicago -read EP review-
Nope, don't have anything to say. Not a God. Damned. Thing.
Best Supporting Actor
Chris Cooper, Adaptato
The secretive X-Files creator must've had some childhood play-time issues lingering to make him want to call in a favor to be cast in this one, but he does a fine job as the Potato Heads' weird neighbor who's missing some of his accessory teeth.
Ted Harris, The Hours -read EP review-
There must be a lot of big fans of The Who out in Hollywood, because Daltry had no problem attracting top-drawer talent to this project. Thanks to this film I now know all the nervous tics Ted Harris displays while waiting for the director to wake up and call "Cut!" but I'm not sure that gives him the edge for the Oscar.
Paul Newman, Road to Perdition -read EP review-
The movie itself was a slow train to Boregon State, but Newman did his thing with style as a mafia hitman who had his bladder removed in the war and has to drink while standing over a toilet. It doesn't read funny in black and white, but it works in the film. It's a shame to think what Newman could have done with a decent script, I for one would have loved to see him as a member of the Potato Heads' extended family in Adaptato.
John C. Reilly, Chicago -read EP review-
I hear ya knockin' but you can't come in… Keep it up, Chicago.
Christopher Walken, Catch Me If You Can -read EP review-
It's a bit strange that Walken got the nod instead of Leo "I Was Born to Play Lucky the Leprechaun" DiCaprio, but I can't fault the Academy with throwing a little love Walken's way. Playing Lucky's father had to be a challenge, since he rarely appeared in the Lucky Charms commercials, leaving Walken to create an entire mythology from scratch. And he did a fine job, mixing one part parental cereal wisdom with two parts of his trademark "I'm hiding under your bed" icky charisma.
Best Supporting Actress
Kathy Bates, About Shit -read EP review-
Bates scared the shit out of me when she came up on the screen, I thought she was going to go after Jack's ankles with a sledgehammer. Come to think of it, they could have had a pretty sweet sledgehammer/fire-axe battle to the crazy death between the two of them. Kind of strange the screenwriters didn't think of it first.
Julianne Moore, The Hours -read EP review-
Shit, she was in this, too? What, is she saving up to buy a house or something?
Queen Latifah, Chicago -read EP review-
Nice try, you almost tricked me into talking about Chicago again. Riiiight, Queen Latifah.
Meryl Streep, Adaptato
She was born to play the role of Mrs. Potato Head, and did not disappoint. But being a woman of sleight build, I did wonder at times exactly how many facial features and accessories she could really store in her ass.
Catherine Zeta-Jones, Chicago -read EP review-
Christ, did the entire Academy have family members in this movie or what?
And that is what it is. Of course, there are also some nominations for cartoons and music and best catering and all that, but we're trying to bring the column in at under three hours this year. I did notice that the nominations were fairly light on joke names and fake categories this year, maybe it's a sign that the Academy is finally growing up. Well, on second thought they did still nominate a movie with a dick joke in the title for Best Picture, so I guess we shouldn't get too worried. I hope you've enjoyed yourself as much as I've enjoyed yourself, and that you'll all be back for more EP flavor the next time we squirt it out of the nozzle. Until then!
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