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Dick Cheney Written Out of Republican PartyUnpopular Vice President denounced as "a bad idea from the get-go" November 12, 2001 |
Washington, DC K-mart Portrait Studio Dick Cheney, unable to hear the axe falling
"As everything progresses," said President Bush, "you'll be seeing less and less of Dick Cheney until his contract expires. He'll sink more into the background, with the idea being eventually we'll replace him entirely."
Insiders say that disappointing approval ratings and a lack of appeal among female constituents 18-49 led to the decision to do away with the Vice President. An unidentified source, namely some guy we didn't know, described the Vice President as "a bad idea from the get-go."
For months rumors persisted that the diminishing role of the Vice President was a sign that produc...
OP leaders announced at a press conference yesterday that Vice President Dick Cheney would be gradually written out of the Republican party over the next few months.
"As everything progresses," said President Bush, "you'll be seeing less and less of Dick Cheney until his contract expires. He'll sink more into the background, with the idea being eventually we'll replace him entirely."
Insiders say that disappointing approval ratings and a lack of appeal among female constituents 18-49 led to the decision to do away with the Vice President. An unidentified source, namely some guy we didn't know, described the Vice President as "a bad idea from the get-go."
For months rumors persisted that the diminishing role of the Vice President was a sign that producers of the Republican party were unhappy with his performance. Continually the president denied such claims, but with recent announcements, many are taking it as proof positive the Vice President failed to live up to expectations. President Bush disagrees.
"Dick Cheney was fine for the time and place, he was instrumental to early success of the Bush administration," the president said. "But he's grown artistically, as we all have, and would prefer to pursue solo projects at this time. And we in the administration feel like the Vice President position would be better served by someone else as well, so the parting is amicable."
GOP analyst Milton Monopoly has another version of the story.
"Let's face it, the president is a much bigger hit than anyone expected. You got this fairly young tough-guy president and who's covering his back? An ancient legislator," Monopoly said. "Okay, he was interesting in the beginning, the reckless young president and the wisened old congressman with the bad ticker, sort of like a 'Jake and the Fat Man' team up, or 'Hardcastle and McCormick.' But he never pulled the ratings like Bush did, so they axed him. It was obvious from a few months in he was on his way out, then when the terrorist plot was in full steam he's mysteriously missing all the time when as Vice President he should be knee-deep in it like the president. Everybody in Washington knew Cheney was being written out, especially Cheney."
Monopoly suggested Cheney would be replaced immediately, and a replacement may already be on the way in.
"Some people are saying Guiliani, but that's unrealistic, the president won't have some guy who's a huge threat to him. The more obvious choice, and what I think they're going to do, is Colin Powell. There's a lot of excitement there, with Powell being a former military man and Bush an administrator with not as much 'street' experience. Plus, there's always the exciting racial tension. You're talking a party that everybody will be tuning in to." the commune news thought you said LAUNCH, not LUNCH. Lil Duncan is a senior correspondent for the commune and eats punks like you for breakfast.
 | Suspicious White Powder Turns Out to Be CocaineAuthorities relieved to see massive shipment of illegal narcotics November 12, 2001 |
El Squatro, CA Junior Bacon The police, in too big a goddamn hurry to wait for the photographer to get there
"We were awful worried at first," said Sheriff Fluff Drivel of nearby Littlehead City. "These days everyone's on edge whenever they see white powder. Hell, my wife refuses to bake anything that involves using flour right now."
Drivel's partner, Officer Roy Dither, added, "I was the one to investigate the powder itself. You remember that TV show, I think...
truck laden with hundreds of packages of a mysterious white powder attempted to cross the border here today, drawing scrutiny from the Border Patrol and local law enforcement officers concerned that it could be just the latest in a series of terrorist attacks involving Anthrax. After closer investigation, a spokesman revealed, with some relief, that the substance turned out to be simply 94% pure Colombian cocaine.
"We were awful worried at first," said Sheriff Fluff Drivel of nearby Littlehead City. "These days everyone's on edge whenever they see white powder. Hell, my wife refuses to bake anything that involves using flour right now."
Drivel's partner, Officer Roy Dither, added, "I was the one to investigate the powder itself. You remember that TV show, I think it was 'Banacek' or maybe it was 'Mannix,' that one back in the '70s? Anyway, it was just like that episode of 'The Streets of San Francisco,' where they caught that guy with the big bag of white powder, and George Peppard or Karl Malden or whoever stuck his finger in the bag, right up to his knuckle, and then tasted the powder and said 'Pure horse.' Well, I just went ahead and scooped up a big handful of the powder in question, and I was all ready to say that, to say 'Pure horse,' but before I could, my mouth had got all numb and everything, and then I was thinking about how my neighbor used to have horses when I was a kid, and he used to race them, and I used to see him giving them some white powder before the races, and that got me to thinking, well, maybe it was something else. Then I remembered how these ants used to be all over the stable where he kept the horses, these really interesting little black ants, you know, and they would just all follow each other in a big long line up the wall, and I always wondered what made them do that, and then-"
Sheriff Drivel then gently interrupted his partner with a friendly, two-handed smack to the side of the head with his baton. Officer Dither reeled off, twitching spasmodically, his arms flailing and blood streaming from his nose and ear, while Sheriff Drivel continued.
"To make a long story short, we had the powder analyzed, and it turned out that it wasn't Anthrax at all. It also wasn't 'pure horse,'" he snorted, casting a glance at his still-convulsing partner. "All it turned out to be was your plain old garden-variety cocaine, so we sent these jokers on their merry way. I can tell you, we were awfully glad to find out it wasn't Anthrax, though. We hate that kind of music down here." Look for Wallace Watermelon's award-winning volume of poetry, "Reflections on a Gift of Chutney Pickle from Myself, Since You Heartless, Soulless Bastards Never Give Me Anything," as soon as he finishes writing it, and it gets published and wins some awards.
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 November 12, 2001 Take Them Out to the Guillotinethe commune's Stan Abernathie doesn't know who bought him this Bud Ice, but he's grateful none the less There was a lot of talk this season about contraction in baseball. In other words, rounding up the teams that are too pathetic to wear the mantle of MLB and having them taken out back to be shot, much like my last three dogs who had the plague and my wife after she broke her leg power-walking. Some say this would be good for the sport: to thin out the ranks so that only the strong survive, and throwing the rest to the wolves of more popular sports, like football and croquet. Others argue that it's just a ploy by the owners, a bluff to get the players to agree to electroshock tracking collars at the next contract negotiation meetings. Everywhere, people are talking about it: from a WWII vet I met in a barbershop on Tuesday to a traveling salesman I met in another barbershop Saturday afterno...
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There was a lot of talk this season about contraction in baseball. In other words, rounding up the teams that are too pathetic to wear the mantle of MLB and having them taken out back to be shot, much like my last three dogs who had the plague and my wife after she broke her leg power-walking. Some say this would be good for the sport: to thin out the ranks so that only the strong survive, and throwing the rest to the wolves of more popular sports, like football and croquet. Others argue that it's just a ploy by the owners, a bluff to get the players to agree to electroshock tracking collars at the next contract negotiation meetings. Everywhere, people are talking about it: from a WWII vet I met in a barbershop on Tuesday to a traveling salesman I met in another barbershop Saturday afternoon. The buzz in the air is palpable. What do I think about the impeding contraction? Good riddance! The teams most often rumored to be under the axe are the Montreal Expos, the Florida Marlins, the Tampa Bay Devil Rays and the Minnesota Twins—not a half-dozen men between them. I mean that: the Devil Rays are actually a little-league team from Georgia who won some kind of Cheerios Sweepstakes to play in the big leagues. The last time they played the Yankees half the team went home with wedgies and pink-bellies. So they're an easy call. How about the Montreal Expos? Frankly, I'm surprised a team named after an off-brand of panty hose has lasted this long. No need to worry about protests if we put them out of their misery, a gay pride parade in Nebraska draws more folks than an Expos game. I went to an Expos game one time on fan appreciation day, thinking I'd get a bobble-headed doll or something, right? Wrong. I went home with Vladimir Guerrero, it turns out every ticket-buying fan got a player for the weekend. He sealed my driveway and helped me dredge out the basement: a very nice young man. It was probably our folly in thinking that Canadians would be interested in American baseball anyway, since what they call "baseball" is a far different sport that involves whiskey and chainsaws. What about the Florida Marlins? Their problem is exactly the opposite of the Devil Rays: the youngest guy on the team is 76, and he's the bat boy. I guess that's what you get for putting a team in a place where the state bird is Betty White. I saw a Marlins game once where the third baseman was killed three times during the game: twice by line drives and the third time he had a stroke during the seventh-inning stretch. They have more EMTs in their stadium than the Cardinals have hot-dog vendors, and their games take six hours because they're constantly having to revive the players (and some fans) with the electroshock paddles. And did I mention that they're slower than David Wells in a Jacuzzi full of glue? The entire team had one stolen base last year, and that only happened because the catcher for the Brewers, Snapper McGee (who had been traded from the Marlins only weeks earlier), died on the play and hence couldn't throw to second. So the Marlins are out. That leaves the Minnesota Twins. Here's my question to you: has anyone actually seen the Twins in the last few seasons? I don't recall that I have and I'm starting to get worried that they might be buried in the snow up there or may have been eaten by Sasquatches. I recommend we send some St Bernards northward to confirm that the team is even still there before we talk about folding their franchise. The thing I want to know, though, is why only four teams? Surely these aren't the only miserable excuses for a baseball team that we could rightfully give the ol' Kervorkian treatment to. Are we sure anyone in Anaheim got those flyers under their windshield wipers letting them know they have a team? The last time I was at an Angels game, the team didn't even show up, and I spent the afternoon playing pickle with their coach and a janitor. I heard the Kansas City Royals had to bus in hobos for their games this season, since the only fans that showed up were the players' moms, and they were driving the coaches crazy, loudly second-guessing all of their decisions. I'm sure we could cut a lot more teams if we were serious about ridding this sport of losers and has-beens. Who would cry a tear for the Verno Beach Needledicks or the Fresno Filibusters? What about the Woody Creek Dirty Liars or the Mason City Menopause? Now that I think of it, I'm kind of tired of the Chula Vista Screaming Dandies, the Eugene Scat-Flinging Apes and the Apple Valley Dipshits, too. I say off with their heads, every last one. Look, I've got nothing against any of these towns or their fans and I love an underdog just as much as the next guy. I'm just tired of being called on to pinch-hit every time I've sat down and just gotten comfortable with my beer and sausage-dog, that's all. º Last Column: º more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“Impartiality is a pompous name for indifference, which is an elegant name for Cletus, my inbred asscrack of a neighbor about whom I am far from indifferent.”
-CK FesterchildFortune 500 CookieYou wir find gleat rove in an ord flend. That's not an accented translation; you just have a really weird fortune this week. It's time to face the facts, or at least the facts of life: even if you manage to get that face you drew on your hand pregnant, it's just going to be one more mouth to feed. This week's lucky ringtones: Hangin' Tough, Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm, Two Princes, Kokomo.
Try again later.Top Frustrating Wi-Fi Dead Spots| 1. | Flower bed outside ex-wife's bedroom window | | 2. | Antarctica. Most of it. | | 3. | Men's room at the zoo | | 4. | Twilight Zone | | 5. | Raging Waters: the whole goddamned theme park | |
|   Mistress Nancy New House Dominatrix BY roland mcshyster 11/12/2001 Well, it seems that another two weeks have passed us by, leaving some of us wiser and others of us with a burn in the shape of an exhaust pipe on our ankle. I've found myself especially reflective this week, wondering at the marvelous ballet of life, the opera of death, and the wine-tasting of being in a coma. Heady thoughts for a movie review column, I know, but it's best not to forget that should we ever doze off at the wheel of our Bonneville and drive into a lake, we might end up in a coma. And on that day we stop watching the movies… and the movies start watching us. I'll let you chew on that for a while whilst we go about our business with this week's edition of "Ask Roland":
Q. Roland, in light of the events on September 11th, do you think we've seen the...
Well, it seems that another two weeks have passed us by, leaving some of us wiser and others of us with a burn in the shape of an exhaust pipe on our ankle. I've found myself especially reflective this week, wondering at the marvelous ballet of life, the opera of death, and the wine-tasting of being in a coma. Heady thoughts for a movie review column, I know, but it's best not to forget that should we ever doze off at the wheel of our Bonneville and drive into a lake, we might end up in a coma. And on that day we stop watching the movies… and the movies start watching us. I'll let you chew on that for a while whilst we go about our business with this week's edition of "Ask Roland":
Q. Roland, in light of the events on September 11th, do you think we've seen the end of the "Age of Irony"? Is it even possible to be ironic in the current national climate? And what will this mean for the lowest-common-denominator comedic filmmakers of the last few years?
Ted Huxley, Angel's Rump, New Hampshire
A. Good question, Ted. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to split with the consensus here and predict that the "Age of Irony" is far from over. After all, what's an action film without Arnold's menacing, irony stare after the bad guy feeds his entire family to a cannibalistic new-age cult? And who would bother to watch a Christina Aguilera video if her taut, irony thighs were not on display for all to see? I predict that the "irony" look has a lot more mileage left in it, and that it's only real threat is from the also-popular "steely" look, not the long-awaited release of the "Dr Who: The Robots of Death" DVD on September 11th.
Q. I'm so close, Roland. Years ago I realized that someone—or someTHING was trying to communicate with me during ABC's movie of the week. It all started years back when I was watching "Another 48 Hours" on a Sunday evening, enjoying Murphy and Nolte's comical misadventures. During one especially funny scene, where Nolte is mad at Murphy from some bone-headed thing or another, I noticed a distinct pattern of beeping during their dialogue. It took me a while to figure it out, but then suddenly it dawned on me: Morse code. What the devil could this mean? A subliminal subtext to the film? A secret message for the eagle-eared? I had to find out. I decided to rent the film to watch it again… I'd earned my merit badge in Morse code as a scout years ago, but shamefully admit that my decoding skills have slipped over the years. If Samuel Morse stood before me now, well, I imagine he'd get sick all over himself and frankly I don't blame him. I make no excuses at my Morse coding ineptitude, and I don't expect others to make excuses for me either. Anyhow, I rented the movie at my local Hombre Video store and was shocked to find that it contained no Morse code in it at all! Apparently whoever was behind this was choosing the ABC movie as a forum to communicate with me and me alone. So I returned to my post in front of my 35 inch Zenith TruTube set, armed with only a pen, some paper, an Amstel Light and "The Idiot's Guide to Morse Code and Pig Latin (Doubleday, 1995)" the following Sunday night. Week after week I kept vigilant watch over the Movie of the Week, each week receiving a new coded message. But who could it be sending me these messages, Roland? The Russians? The Venusians? The Jeffersons? Is it you, Roland? So far the messages have been vague about their source. Here's what I have so far: GNUTLE. ZEEPRO. HAMMY. ZIPLX. FZZRT. ILM. TEET. TEET. I'm so close, Roland. Maybe it's Pig Latin.
Morris Timbaker, Oleo, Nebraska
A. Wow, Morris. Sounds like Nebraska's a pretty exciting place to live. If I were you, I'd keep myself within the state lines and never, ever leave. I mean that.
The preceeding letters were edited for clarity and because the second one was over fourteen pages long. Now it's time for the movies!
In Theaters Now:
Domestic Disturbance
I was beginning to think that Chuck Norris would never recover from the humiliating beating he took from the Hillbilly Twins in Wrestlemania XV, but now he's returning to the big screen to give Stephen Seagal and Jet Li a taste of old-school box-office thug competition. Here, Norris plays a retired CIA karate guy who just wants a little peace and quiet… but some Jehovah's Witnesses, an Amway salesman and a young woman running for city council have other ideas! Jackie Chan could learn a little something from this one about kicking someone's ass with a phone.
Mobsters, Inc
Nobody gets tired of hilarious CGI goombas smacking each other around with frying pans and scratching themselves with ice picks, that's the first rule of Hollywood. This kids' classic should give Disney's upcoming Jack the Ripper animated film a run for it's money, and you can bet your kids will be singing "There's a Body in the Trunk" and "Two Through The Eyes, Tony-Boy" until you want to hide the cursed CD and tell them the family dog has a taste for plastic. Maybe then they'll finally let you take Rex on the "big walk", eh?
Shallow Hal
Mix "Clueless" with "2001: A Space Oddity" and what do you get? I don't know, they're not screening this one for the critics. Way to pencil your names in on my shit list, guys.
Now on Video:
The Animal
I've been saying for years that the Muppets movie franchise has been going down the tubes, and it looks like the Hollywood big-wigs are finally taking notice. After the dismal failures of "The Muppets and Mary Kate and Ashley's Favorite Sleep-Overs", "Muppet Mall Party", "The Great Muppet Salmonella Scare", "Muppets in a Waiting Room", "The Muppets Meet the Yankees", and "The Muppets Vs. The Department of Justice", I was afraid the next Muppet movie might try to kick my elderly mother in the teeth. But thank God for small favors, because "The Animal" is the best Muppet picture in years, harkening back to the glory days of "Muppet Lambada Lesson" and "Fame". Finally the quiet dignity behind the Muppet empire, Animal, gets his own movie. And if you don't think watching Animal yell "Wipe-Out! Wipe-Out!" for two hours while he jumps on shit is entertaining, then my friend I think the child in you has just choked on a Duplo block.
Baby Boyscouts
Normally I'd puke at the mention of a low-rent rip-off of the hip urban hit "Baby Geniuses", but I have to admit that this potent mix of "The Edge" and "Look Who's Talking" kept me in stitches from the opening shot of the Columbia chick in a diaper to the closing credits scroll, which was continually interrupted so the babies could be fed and hosed down. You've never seen camping done like this, as the baby boyscouts are, one-by-one, eaten by bears, birds of prey, large muskies and even a moose in the film's hysterical high-note. Kudos go to the inventive writers who mine comedy from such ingenious scenarios as having the babies try to start a campfire by leaving a soiled diaper out in the sun, only to have it explode and blow out a crater bigger than the one in Raymond Burr's bed.
The Golden Bowl
Finally taking toilet humor to it's logical extreme, the Farley Brothers pinch this wonderful loaf on our entertainment lawn. Here we have the tale of the four brave knights of Crapalot, played by Jack Nicholson, Buster Keaton, David Lee Roth and that fat guy from Remember the Titans. They're on a quest to bring a holy throne back to it's rightful place in the king of England's bathroom, and quickly because he ate some pork that may have turned some time last week.
Television:
Alias (ABC)
ABC continues its downhill slide into network oblivion with this awful re-hash with the remaining cast members of the original Alice, the fun show about the single mom waitress and her friends at work. But everyone's gotten predictably boring over the years, not to mention their spelling's pretty fucked up, and to sum up this show: No Flo? No go!
Crossing Jordan (NBC)
That Michael Jordan is amazing! How on earth that guy has time to lead a fantastic basketball team to victory, star in a new hit series, and still perform his regular full-time job of endorsing every product made here and overseas is beyond me. And this is no fluff comedy, either: Jordan is a tough Lean on Me-style crossing guard, when he says stop, he means STOP!
The Big Mac Show (Fox)
Everybody loved those popular McDonald's commercials and nobody was sadder than Roland M. they couldn't get everybody for a regular series. But who would have thought Big Mac, of all characters, would be the big network star? Nobody, and rightly so, since this show is on UPN. But it's still a lot of fun, despite the lame substitute characters like McFish and Shamrock Shake. Still, maybe if the show gets big enough good ol' Grimace and maybe even Ronald himself will drop by for an episode!
Video Games:
Boy O Boy, is Roland McShyster pickled tink! Yep, you guessed it, I got my hands on a preview version of Microsoft's Sexbox Console and some games! I'm as surprised as you are the company would mail me a preview console to review, and the dude who delivered it required a generous tip. He may not have been a mailman, but I remember seeing him in some capacity at the post office, or a picture of him, maybe. Who cares? I'm too busy gaming to ask questions or describe faces for sketch artists!
Kabuki Warriors (XB)
Before you get yourself all hyped out, be warned: Kabuki is Japanese for mime. Man, what a weak concept. All in all, it's not bad, but c'mon, without learning all the specialty moves all you can really do is pretend you're in a box. I tried roping my opponent, but the controls are too damned difficult, so it ends up the guy beats me by walking against the wind across the screen and nailing me with a big heavy invisible hammer. Not for me.
SEX Tricky (XB)
Now this here's a game with power! Cut phat beats worthy of your master, the awesome DJ Tricky, or be banished to the realm of nerddom and no longer able to get into any clubs. Much better than the Super Mario rip-off where you're Björk and have to escape the giant teddy bear.
Tony Hawk's Prosecutor Tux (XB)
Same as the game I reviewed last week for PS2, but in this one you're dressed like a motherfucker. Comparing it to PS2, the graphics and sound and game play and all are better, or maybe not as good, or perhaps not that much different. But the controls are definitely not the same for each game system, unless I was playing the PS2 version. It's hard to tell with the exact same game, folks.
NFL Prime Time 2002 (XB)
Your average football game, you ask? No! This one is above and beyond expectations as the game play is generated by the computer itself. Instead, you're Dennis Miller and you have to quickly come up with anachronistic references and jokes that sound way more intelligent than football fans could get, thus maintaining your feeling of superiority over the rest of the human race. Now this is the next century of gaming!
A mixed bag of games, true, but the power and style of the system is beyond belief. And so I give the Sexbox my highest rating ever: Good!
I hope it was good for you, too, America! Stop by in another two weeks and we'll see what we can do about that stutter of yours.   |
