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India, Pakistan, Israel, Palestine to Settle Disputes in RingUnprecedented 4-country tag team match will solve all grievances January 7, 2002 |
New York City, NY Junior Bacon Israel's tough man The Yiddish Nightmare and his manager, The Colonel
Representatives of each country are going to battle head-to-head in a no-holds-barred open match Jan. 19th, dubbed my McMahon as the "WWF International Slam: World Wrestle III."
According to McMahon, details of the match are still being worked out, though the four sides have tentatively agree to a pairing, Israel and India against Pakistan and Palestine. Under the current rules as proposed, the outcome of the...
ecent events of 2001 as well as deteriorating treaties have embroiled the entire world in the disagreements of the countries of India and Pakistan as well as Israel and Palestine. Now, thanks to the negotiations of the United Nations and special arbitrator Vince McMahon, the four countries are going to settle their differences once and for all—on the mat.
Representatives of each country are going to battle head-to-head in a no-holds-barred open match Jan. 19th, dubbed my McMahon as the "WWF International Slam: World Wrestle III."
According to McMahon, details of the match are still being worked out, though the four sides have tentatively agree to a pairing, Israel and India against Pakistan and Palestine. Under the current rules as proposed, the outcome of the match could determine Palestine's acceptance of the state of Israel and their occupation of the West Bank, and foreign objects will not be banned.
Wrestlers so far chosen for the match have included India's Sacred Cow, Pakistan's The Koran Krusher, Palestine's Little Jambi Twister, and from Israel, The Yiddish Nightmare.
"These are some great wrestlers, and some great countries," said McMahon, talking from the lobby of the arena where the proposed superslam would take place. "It's about time they stopped talking and started pinning. Enough of this chosen one hoo-ha. Maybe if Allah or God or whoever wants you to win so bad, he'll make the other man tap out."
Some controversy has arisen over how well the countries will adhere to the agreed outcome, with the promise of no re-matches (unless the Pay-Per-View take triples expectations). Also, there is some debate over The Koran Krusher's friendship with "Stone Cold" Steve Austin, a reported drinking buddy. If things go down hard enough on the mat, will Stone Cold step in?
"I got no interest in politics or religion," said Stone Cold, returning a phone call to the commune. "I attend the church of pain. That's all I care about. But if some lousy trash-talker like the Sacred Cow takes a folding chair to my buddy while he's helping out Little Jambi… well, that's just low-down and I can't abide that."
Democratic Senator Tom Daschle has remarked on his own suspicions that the whole thing is just another Vince McMahon exploitative extravaganza with an eye on making money rather than world peace.
"This whole thing stinks of a way to get Stone Cold into the ring with the Rock. It's just like McMahon to use the pain and suffering of hundreds of years of relations between these nations to stage some showdown. Did you see the last bout with The Yiddish Nightmare? The Rock was pacing back and forth in the stands, just waiting to pop in and throttle Danny Jalalabad. Sounds like some McMahon foreshadowing to me." the commune news doesn't need to bench 150 lbs. to be a man—besides, we've been pretty sick lately. Lil Duncan is a proud sponsor of the 2002 Jamaican bobsledding team.
 | Man Resting Comfortably After Candy Heart TransplantRecipient of world's first sugar-based replacement heart fairs well January 7, 2002 |
Indianapolis, IN Junior Bacon Sugar-based heart keeps Tarwell alive, sweet
Tarwell, a 62-year-old ladder climber, had been waiting two years for a donor heart due to a weakening of his own heart after the cancellation of Baywatch. Doctors were growing increasingly alarmed Tarwell would never make the top of the donor list, as it’s all in who you know.
“Finally, we got desperate and drank a few bottles of Kentucky Bourbon between all of us,” stated Tarwell’s surgeon Michael Matuzo, “and I think at that point someone bet me I wouldn’t put a candy heart in him. By the time I woke up out of the haze...
n Saturday Ollie Tarwell of Decatur, Illinois entered the medical history books as the world’s first candy heart transplant. Tarwell’s doctors say his recovery is going surprisingly well in these initial post-op stages. Tarwell, a 62-year-old ladder climber, had been waiting two years for a donor heart due to a weakening of his own heart after the cancellation of Baywatch. Doctors were growing increasingly alarmed Tarwell would never make the top of the donor list, as it’s all in who you know. “Finally, we got desperate and drank a few bottles of Kentucky Bourbon between all of us,” stated Tarwell’s surgeon Michael Matuzo, “and I think at that point someone bet me I wouldn’t put a candy heart in him. By the time I woke up out of the haze I was already closing and he was showing good signs.” The candy heart, which is the size of a human fist and purchased at a novelty store in Indianapolis next to the hospital, reads, “Love Machine” on the front. Doctors are surprised at how well it pumps blood throughout the body and shows no signs of failure. And because it’s candy, the body refuses to reject it. “The transplant team couldn’t agree in entirety on what to use,” said Matuzo, fielding questions about the surgery. “A few of us liked the message ‘Sweet Thing,’ but the rest of us thought it sounded gay. I’d hate to be in a traffic accident, lying all cut up next to my heart and have it saying ‘Sweet Thing’ when the paramedics show up. How weird is that?” Tarwell is already out of bed and reportedly cleaning his floor of the hospital, but doctors say after the initial sugar high wears off he will likely resume normal activity with only a headache as a side-effect. In order to keep his candy heart functioning properly, he is under strict orders to exercise, diet, and eat a pound of sugar or artificial sweetner a day. The nation’s transplant doctors are reacting with fervor in the wake of the surprising medical miracle. Seven new candy heart transplants are being planned this week, and doctors are already looking into the feasibility of candy livers, kidneys, and pancreas. “Frankly,” said surgeon Donald Bakley, “pancreatic transplant isn’t likely to be too successful. Once you can make a candy organ that is capable of producing normal amounts of insulin, you’ve also just loaded the body with the biggest piece of sugar available. Talk about a catch-22.” Tarwell is expected to make a full recovery and resume his former ladder-scaling business. Candy organ transplant groups have also begun fervently razzing scientists working on cloning human organs, jeering at them to “Catch up.” If you run a candy store and would like to donate organs upon your death, please fill out the back of your driver’s license and specify “candy” under the heading “type.” the commune news… don’t that beat all! Red Bagel is the commune’s fearless editor and wearer of fine Colombian hats.
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 January 7, 2002 Ask Not What Your Country is Doingthe commune's Rok Finger is breaking winds of war Good people, do you know there's a war going on? I trifle not. I just found out about it, much to my astonishment. It's apparently in Albania or Argentina, somewhere in that region, and yes, we are heavily involved. Our fighting boys and their dads and butch sisters are over there as we speak. If only there were some way the public could be informed on the political actions of our leaders.
Needless to say, as a patriotic American second in fervor only to the late Roy Cohn, I went down to offer my skills to the military recruiters. Unfortunately, my skills as an ace columnist and professional dreamcatcher weaver didn't exactly suit the needs of the military at this time. I am unfortunately unfit for active service, due to my height, my age, and a phony backbrace I wore to the ...
º Last Column: Why Not Have Two Christmases?
º more columns
Good people, do you know there's a war going on? I trifle not. I just found out about it, much to my astonishment. It's apparently in Albania or Argentina, somewhere in that region, and yes, we are heavily involved. Our fighting boys and their dads and butch sisters are over there as we speak. If only there were some way the public could be informed on the political actions of our leaders.
Needless to say, as a patriotic American second in fervor only to the late Roy Cohn, I went down to offer my skills to the military recruiters. Unfortunately, my skills as an ace columnist and professional dreamcatcher weaver didn't exactly suit the needs of the military at this time. I am unfortunately unfit for active service, due to my height, my age, and a phony backbrace I wore to the recruiter's office, which I assure was part of an unrelated matter I'd rather not go into.
It's sad to know you're not class A cannon fodder material, but I'll learn to deal with it. There are other ways to serve my country, I know, and I was determined to find it as long as my country was under fire and my interest was minorly raised.
I'm proud to say, loyal readers, Rok Finger was the first on his block to organize a rubber drive. I went door to door collecting, but faired poorly; it's a shame how many used prophylactics are just thrown out these days. The few I did collect, well, let's just sum up by saying the federal officials I talked to weren't anxious to take them off my hands. I could barely take them off my own hands, it wasn't a pleasant experience. Until a more concentrated need for recycling pops up, though, I won't be collecting any more materials for the government.
My next thought was to buy and sell war bonds. But I wasn't even sure where to start the purchase of war bonds. I remember the old slogan, "Buy bonds where you work or bank," so I began there. Fellow columnist Omar Bricks was only too happy to sell me the war bonds he happened to have. War bonds are easy to tell from fake bonds, he assured me, by the various colors they are written in. Each one is hand-stenciled in crayon. As the guarantee on the front ensures, they are good "till the shit comes tumblin' down."
Would you believe I could not re-sell any of these? Some even told me they were fake. I know that is not the case, but perhaps being from the foreign province of New Jersey Mr. Bricks' war bonds are not good here. So I simply took orders for them from various friends, neighborhood associates, and vaguely Mafioso types. Well, without getting into the fine details, what I was doing was not quite "bonding" and was actually referred to as "illegal betting" by the federal agents. They would not cover my bonds, even though I made it clear I expected America to win the war by April or I would not collect on my bond. The charges are still pending, I'm sure we can once again sort everything out without any jail time, my attorney Morrie is quite the mouthpiece.
With all else failing, I tried to assemble a Rok Finger calendar to sell to my fans, with all proceeds going to the war effort. I was thwarted, however, despite all my guarantees to the photographer they would only be semi-nude photos. Damn spineless photographers and their weak stomachs.
In the end, I decided my only real outlet was to go about my daily life. My regular business. Go to work, come home, use the bathroom as needed, spend time with my friends and family, neighborhood associates and vaguely Mafioso types. And spend like a monkey with winning lottery tickets. So I have. New S.U.V., board games by the dozens, a widescreen HDTV, and a new George Foreman grill. The soldiers in Aufvedersehn are doing their part the only way they know how; and here at home, we're doing ours. º Last Column: Why Not Have Two Christmases?º more columns | 
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Milestones2003: The infamous "Battle of the Bulge" breaks out at when office wench Ivana Folger-Balzac mistakes Ramrod Hurley's beerbelly for a birthing alien larvae and sets into the Acting-Editor with a can opener. The skirmish and resultant standoff lasts 18 hours and claims the lives of several Crochet! magazine staffers, for whom the commune observes a moment of near-silence.Now HiringSexecutioner. Why does everybody keep laughing when we say that? We need a dude who can kill some fucking people in an official capacity, okay? What's so funny about that? You guys are sick. Anyway, pay commensurate to experience. Must provide own mask, axe, electric chair, whatever floats your boat.Top Shit That's on Fire Right Now| 1. | Ted Ted's ulcer | | 2. | Iraqi fireworks stand #5 | | 3. | Lousy gag candles | | 4. | Old love letters/most of Colorado | | 5. | Salsa music. No, seriously. | | 6. | Apparently some part of Bruce Springsteen | | 7. | The sun. Pretty sure. | | 8. | Richard Pryor-model Jiffy Pop | | 9. | Dad? | | 10. | You obviously lied about those being asbestos pants. | |
|   Euro Already Losing Ground to Scooby Bucks BY roland mcshyster 12/24/2001 Ho ho ho, America! Season's greetings and welcome to a special Christmas edition of "Entertainment Police". What makes it special, you ask? I'm not sure, but it's Christmas Eve so why the hell don't you step off my balls, alright? Damn. If I'd known you were going to be like this I wouldn't have worn my new shirt. Why don't we just skip straight ahead to the "Ask Roland" before somebody blows a snot rocket in my eggnog, alright?
Q. Hey Roland, man, what have you been smoking? They must have some powerful drugs up there in commune land, because you forgot to review the greatest movie of all time: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone! You been living under a rock or something, man? This thing's bigger than Mama Cass retaining water! They should send some Magicals and Mug...
Ho ho ho, America! Season's greetings and welcome to a special Christmas edition of "Entertainment Police". What makes it special, you ask? I'm not sure, but it's Christmas Eve so why the hell don't you step off my balls, alright? Damn. If I'd known you were going to be like this I wouldn't have worn my new shirt. Why don't we just skip straight ahead to the "Ask Roland" before somebody blows a snot rocket in my eggnog, alright?
Q. Hey Roland, man, what have you been smoking? They must have some powerful drugs up there in commune land, because you forgot to review the greatest movie of all time: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone! You been living under a rock or something, man? This thing's bigger than Mama Cass retaining water! They should send some Magicals and Muggles and some shit over to your place to give you a wake-up call. Fuck you, dude!
Marty Ramart, Luger, Oregon
A. Nice try, Marty. This reminds me of that "You should review E.T." joke that was going around several years back. Right, like they'd name a big-shot movie "E.T." What's that supposed to stand for? Evil Turkeys? Sounds like a bomb to me. If that was going to be a hit it would have to stand for "Enormous Tits" and it's not like we're in Europe here. Here in America we like our sex classy, like in "Bram Stoker's Dracula" or "Showgirls". I give you points for creativity in making up a title though, what's your movie supposed to be about? A wizard trying to pass his gallstones? Bombs away, Marty!
Q. Hey Roland. I just got done watching the second season of The Sopranos on DVD and I have to admit that I was surprised by the death of Salvatore "Big Pussy" Bompensiero. But even more than that, I'm curious as to how you get to be a big mob guy with a nickname like "Big Pussy". The last time I checked, that wasn't a compliment. I called an Italian guy "Big Pussy" at a bar one time and he hit me with a table. Is this just bad writing or is this some La Cosa Nostra secret that I don't know about?
Mersh Lauben, Ripe Grove, Wisconsin
A. Good question, Mersh. While many of us have watched this show faithfully, riveted by the exploits of these big fat singing Italians, few know the behind-the-scenes stories of how the characters came to be. Everyone knows that the lead character of Tony Soprano is based on rough-and-tumble opera bad-boy Lucky Pavoratti, who once beat up a small child for a candy bar during a layover at a train station in Europe. But what few know is that the character of "Big Pussy" Bompensiero is based on real-life opera fatass Flaccid "Big Pussy" Domino, who opens his mouth so wide when he sings that a cat once jumped down his throat after the tuna sandwich he'd eaten for lunch. Hence the nickname, and the occasional weak meows while he's singing. Personally, I can't wait for them to base a Soprano character on the third member of their trio, the certifiably hot Tia Carerra, who sings pretty good for a skinny chick.
Now that that's out of the way, let's talk movies!
In Theaters Now:
ALI
Listen, I looked the other way when the religious right got fed up with the current state of insipid, bumbling, amoral Hollywood movies and started making their own insipid, bumbling, moral films. Apparently "Super Jesus Christ Brothers" and "The Last Temptation Island of Christ" weren't enough for them, but that's fine, let them throw their money into making films that only the heavily stoned or alarmingly elderly will pay to see. But now that lawyers nationwide have decided that they should cut out the middleman and make courtroom dramas themselves, I have to ask: Where do you draw the line? Who's going to want their own movies next? Women? Black people? Fatties? Anyway, that's all beside the point, since whoever thought the American Law Institute was a good subject for a movie needs to be held in contempt of entertainment.
Jimmy Nimrod, Boy Genius
Okay, now I'll be the first one to admit that this, and any other, comedy about a retarded kid who thinks he's an inventor and super-spy is in bad taste. But you can punch my one-way Amtrak ticket to hell because this is the funniest movie of the year. You'll laugh until you need head restraints and a drool cup yourself when Jimmy unveils inventions like the dumpling gun and the magic "poop-to-pudding beam", or when Jimmy's secret spy pictures of the Russian operatives turn out to be just out-of-focus shots of his privates. I only hope the massive karmic debt wracked up by this film falls on the filmmakers themselves for making it, and not us for laughing because I plan on seeing it twice more this weekend.
The Lords of the Ring: The Fellowship in the Ring
I don't think I'm going too far out on a limb when I say this has got to be the most heavily anticipated gay boxing movie, ever. Finally a filmmaker has the cajones to address the obvious sexual tension that ensues when two men in their shorts pound each other's asses for an hour in front of thousands of spectators. Most boxing films to date (except the notable lesbian opus "Raging Bull") have drawn the line at hugging in the ring, but this brave film shatters that barrier with passionate open-mouth kissing during the fight's dramatic climax. Certainly more satisfying than the usual "beat 'em up" ending. Sensitive direction, fabulous costumes and Hector "Macho" Camacho's first inside-the-ring kiss make this a gay boxing film for the ages.
Now on Video:
Mule in Rouge
Scoot over Francis, there's a new mule in the spotlight! Loveable Moonie Margot Kidder stars in this hilarious farce produced by hubby, Mr. "Mission: Important" himself, Tom Cruise. Margot's brother Vlasik from Croatia needs a green card to stay in the country, so with the help of a farmer with a heart of gold, they dress up a mule like a woman to fool the immigration officials and pose as Vlasik's wife. The only thing is, Vlasik doesn't realize she's a mule! You can just imagine the comedy that comes shooting out that hole.
The Center of the World
Once again, those megalomaniacs in Omaha, Nebraska have tipped their hand and wildly overstated their case for tourism for yet another year. To hear these people talk you'd think that Omaha was the fashion, culture and banking capital of the free world. Every year they put out a new movie trying to rope suckers into visiting the Cornhusker state. This one is about on par with last year's "Omaha Spring Break" and "Nebraska: The Wet T-Shirt State" from the year before, but none can compare with their audacious 1992 entry: "Omaha: Everyone Gets a Blowjob".
Scary Movie 2
Generic-brand movies are all the rage this year, and why not? Their plain-text posters are easy to read, the admissions are cheap, and who's to say that once you get inside, they're not the same as the more expensive brand-name pictures? Who wants to pay for all of that expensive packaging and advertising anyway?
Television:
The Amazing Racist (CBS)
The network that brought you hilarious bigot Archie Bunker is hoping lightning strikes twice with this hour-long drama about a loveable Louisiana state legislator who always says the wrong thing, to the horror of his politcally correct spin doctors.
The Tick (Fox)
The terrifying Edgar Allen Poe story about a clock that won't let its owner forget the murder he committed doesn't exactly make for hit sitcom material. The star power of Tom Wopat is wasted and the show is neither funny nor scary. What a huge disappointment from the network that shook things up with groundbreaking shows like Married to Children and The Tex-Mex Files.
The Garbageman (CBS)
CBS turns to the tried and true formula for success again with this show about an amateur sleuth. In this case, a smart trash-talking garbage man (James Earl Jones) finds a dead body in a dumpster every week which leads him on a brand new mystery to find out whodunnit. Predictable? Maybe. Successful? Sure 'nuff! I'm predicting the biggest hit for CBS since Murder She Dead.
Video Games:
Forever Kingdom (PS2)
This game is, of course, based on that syndicated show about a guy who's a cop by day and a king of a small mediterranean country by night. Not bad, some fun moments, but the fact the show was canceled years ago doesn't get me very excited to play it. Just shows how long it takes to program stuff for that Playstation 2.
Blood Wake (XB)
Nauseating game where you're a teen-ager trying to find out why there's so much blood in your nocturnal emissions. I've never been into that zombie-fighting role player game crap in the first place, but this one hit a little too close to home for me. Trust me, dude, just cut down to three or four times a week and everything ought to be fine.
NBA Inside Driver 2002 (XB)
For all of you people who say there's never been a successful game playing as Shaquille O'Neil's chauffeur… you keep on saying it. This dillhole game is as boring as driving games get. Where to next, Mr. O'Neil? Nike endorsement deal? Kazaam sequel negotiations? Recording studio for another rap album? Yessir, your 10-foot-tall holiness. What a biter.
Okay, America. May you sleep tight tonight with visions of sugarbeets dancing in your head, and I hope Santa brings you everything you've ever dreamed of. Unless you've been dreaming of writing entertainment reviews for the commune. If that's the case, then fuck right off. And Merry Christmas.   |
