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 July 11, 2005 |
Ketcham, NJ National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration A satellite photo of the menacing storm.
"He's back," stammered the fearful, doddering old fool. "He's back and he's come to finish off the job he started on my flower bed! And then I'm next!"
Old George Wilson, a Ketcham, New Jersey resident of 60+ years, claims the storm to be the reincarnation of a dead neighbor boy who has carried a talent for mischief into his reincarnated...
ortals fled in terror from the Gulf Coast, fearing the rising wrath of Hurricane Dennis. The dangerous storm had already inflicted severe damage on Cuba, then grew in strength to a category 4 storm, which is apparently a meaner storm than what it had been before. But the real threat may lie in a small garden in New Jersey, where corporeal being Mr. Wilson assured reporters the "menace" was after nothing else but his rose garden.
"He's back," stammered the fearful, doddering old fool. "He's back and he's come to finish off the job he started on my flower bed! And then I'm next!"
Old George Wilson, a Ketcham, New Jersey resident of 60+ years, claims the storm to be the reincarnation of a dead neighbor boy who has carried a talent for mischief into his reincarnated hurricane form. Wilson warned the local media, but when they failed to listen, brought his story to the commune, the world's most gullible news source.
"That Dennis has only one goal in mind," warned Wilson. "He wants to destroy my roses and drive me out of my mind!" When it was pointed out that those were actually two goals, old man Wilson pulled out a chunk of his own hair and screeched.
Indeed the hurricane has destroyed several gardens and virtually everything else it touched in Cuba, and has turned to engage the Gulf Coast of the United States. Though the New Jersey rose garden in question is several hundred miles out of the hurricane's current direction, Wilson assures all it is the hurricane's ultimate target.
Some of Wilson's story was easily verified, including the existence of a young boy named Dennis Mitchell who lived next door to Wilson in the 1950s. Though the boy mysteriously disappeared several years ago and his body was never found, Wilson claims the hurricane now bombarding the United States and terrorizing himself out of a feud the ghost carried into his new existence.
"That little monster says he just wants to play," groaned the old man, "then he makes noise and sets off fireworks and wreaks havoc on everything. He had to go, don't you understand? He had to! I just… I needed peace and quiet. That's all I wanted… a little peace and quiet!"
Though there didn't seem to be any doubt to the possibility of a young troublemaker being reincarnated as a category 4 hurricane, some further explanation seemed necessary: Why trash Cuba as he did? Why not simply come back as a tornado in New Jersey, or a gopher, or any number of creatures cable of destroying a garden quickly and efficiently?
"I'm not sure why he came back as a hurricane," admitted Wilson. "But I can guess why he attacked Cuba. That Mitchell boy always hated the Commies. He planned on growing up to fight them in World War III. He… he always made me be the Reds. He forced me to play soldiers with him," sobbed the old man.
Contacted for further comment, Wilson's wife contradicted the man's version of the story, painting a picture of an old fussbucket and a charming young man who just wanted to be friends.
"Oh, I thought he was a perfect little gentleman," said Mrs. Wilson. "The problem with my George is, he's just grumpy. He's half out of his mind sometimes, you know. And if that hurricane does destroy that rose garden of ours… oh, well. Tropical winds will be tropical winds." the commune news has never known of a little boy to be reincarnated as a hurricane, but we have suspected that bum that keeps shitting on our lawn might have been a large orange dog we knew in another life. If Mordecai "Three-Finger" Brown is ever reincarnated, we'll be pissed at losing the only reporter who works for free.
 |  July 11, 2005 |
New York City Courtesy Pfizer The pill in question, which Pfizer really could have made a lot larger for the sake of men with size issues
“Not only does Viagra work, sometimes it works all too well,” Pfizer spokesperson Dennis Baylor chuckled knowingly in explanation. “And sometimes it takes a little ‘self control’ to get that horse back in the corral, you know?”
Baylor continued to speak in baffling euphemisms for several minutes.
“Like if a business meeting’s about to start, or your wif...
fter weeks of suggesting that patients who had gone blind while using the company’s best-selling erectile dysfunction drug were pussies, the pharmaceutical giant Pfizer has assumed a new tack this week, as explained in the recent publication of the company’s informational packet entitled “Viagra Doesn’t Cause Blindness, Yanking Your Wank for Five Hours Causes Blindness.”
“Not only does Viagra work, sometimes it works all too well,” Pfizer spokesperson Dennis Baylor chuckled knowingly in explanation. “And sometimes it takes a little ‘self control’ to get that horse back in the corral, you know?”
Baylor continued to speak in baffling euphemisms for several minutes.
“Like if a business meeting’s about to start, or your wife’s pulling up in the driveway and you’ve still got your pants off and the Ken dolls and Candyland pieces strewn around the bedroom, well then it might be time to take matters into your own hands, if you know what I mean,” Baylor inferred, possibly speaking from personal experience.
“But too much of a good thing can be a bad thing,” Baylor continued. “And the old wives’ tales might be right about how being a little too friendly with your member might just lead to a little condition we like to call the blind man’s buff.”
Doctors like to call the condition non-arteritic anterior ischemic optic neuropathy (NAION), or in English, the sudden, permanent loss of vision due to swelling of the optic disc. Pfizer argues for a coincidental association, given that the NAION condition is most common in the sadly overweight and the diabetic, both prime markets for the company’s dick pills.
Pfizer’s Viagra has been for years the leader in the lucrative Erectile Dysfunction market, known as “ED” to everyone but guys named Ed. A serious health side-effect like blindness could torpedo the company’s profits, since being blind is nearly as much of an obstacle to scoring chicks as is not being able to get it up. Add the two together, and you’re in some serious deep shit.
Baylor was evasive when asked to clarify, in simple terms, what exactly the company was blaming for the incidents of blindness.
“What, are you daft?” Baylor balked. “Choking the chicken, slamming the ham, paying a visit to Peter O. Johnson, tree-hugging, the friendly fist!”
“Uh… spanking it, giving a slap-down to the little man, torquing your tuna, performing the holy handshake!” continued Baylor, growing frustrated and less nice by the minute. “You know, kid, dong massage!”
Unable to get a clear answer from Pfizer, this reporter turned to men’s men on the street for answers.
“Yeah, my mom always told me that would happen,” explained disco-ball installer Trent Yardbird. “Going blind because of, you know, taking your little buddy out for a skipper. Pulling the pud, slapping the salmon. The man’s crank handshake. You know what I’m talking about.”
This reporter’s further requests for clarification were all met with a withering “Man, you stupid.”
However, this reporter will not rest until he finds the truth, commune readers. At the suggestion of commune editor Red Bagel, I’ve scheduled an interview with my high school health teacher, Mr. Thorpe, as I continue my dig for the truth. Apparently Bagel believes he may have inside information relevant to this investigation. the commune news takes the affliction of blindness very seriously, and out of sympathy for the afflicted we plan on temporarily blinding office dong Ramrod Hurley for entertainment at the commune’s upcoming yearly Summer Picnicalicky. He knows it’s no time to bring this up, but commune teen reporter Boner Cunningham has always thought the word “doing” should be a sound effect, like “boing,” rather than such a serious word.
| Hotshot newborn "panda" just monochromatic bear Cereal rapist pleads guilty in Snap, Crackle, Pop cases G8 outcome: Poor countries receive long-awaited pot to piss in Elephant tagging in Malaysia: slow elephants always "it" |
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 July 11, 2005 Genius, Inc.After last installment's adventures with the Omar Bricks Perpetual Motion Machine (an electric water distiller covered on all sides by throbbing punch-balloons) and the resulting disastrous core meltdown that destroyed the southern quarter of my neighbor Hamms' house last week, I realized the error in my recent thinking. True inventors don't set out to make the world a better place. True inventors set out to make the world give them a lot of money. So I decided that free energy for all (and especially for me and select close friends) could wait, since I can't waste any more time or brainpower on inventions that don't make a shitload of money really fast.
Answer? Last week I formed Genius, Inc., a think tank that consists of yours truly and my loyal secretary and bodyguard, Fog...
º Last Column: The Omar Bricks Perpetual Motion Miracle
º more columns
After last installment's adventures with the Omar Bricks Perpetual Motion Machine (an electric water distiller covered on all sides by throbbing punch-balloons) and the resulting disastrous core meltdown that destroyed the southern quarter of my neighbor Hamms' house last week, I realized the error in my recent thinking. True inventors don't set out to make the world a better place. True inventors set out to make the world give them a lot of money. So I decided that free energy for all (and especially for me and select close friends) could wait, since I can't waste any more time or brainpower on inventions that don't make a shitload of money really fast.
Answer? Last week I formed Genius, Inc., a think tank that consists of yours truly and my loyal secretary and bodyguard, Foghat. It's an idea factory, really, a new kind of company that doesn't play by the old rules, in business or in badminton. It's like Apple without all the gayness attached.
And let me tell you, it's been a busy couple of weeks. Omar Bricks is the first to admit that, while brilliant, not all of our early products have been entirely successful in the marketplace. Among the long string of inventions that the world was not ready for include the Live Mouse Computer Mouse, the Freeway Parasail and my pride and joy, BreathWreckers gum (available in Onion & Garlic, Cigarette, and Whiskey Double flavors).
But failure is the mother-in-law of success, or however the bar-napkin quote goes, and in time the world finally caught up to Genius, Inc., leaving us with our first truly marketable product. SpamHat.
Genius, Inc.'s first product release to extend beyond the convenience store down the block from Bricks Manor is going to be SpamHat 8.0. It's really the first version, but people like to feel like they're buying some advanced version that's had all the bugs and bullshit worked out, hence the 8.0 at the end. Eight's a good number, since most things have been perfected by their eighth time around the block, except of course the Rocky movies.
SpamHat does exactly what you'd think; it filters out the sun's harmful rays and prevents you from getting hat cancer. Originally I was going to make an electric hat that filtered out junk email, but that turned out to be a real pain in the ass so I just kept the name and tossed all the computer bullshit and the '87 Ford windshield wipers I had bolted on, and we were ready to go.
There's also a piece of Spam sewn inside the hat, to keep your head cool. I mainly added this so I could keep the bitchin' name without getting involved in any false-advertising lawsuits, but then I came to realize it was actually pretty useful for head-cooling, attracting wildlife, and as an emergency snack. A safety note for bald dudes though: don't leave SpamHat in the freezer too long or else the Spam will bond to your scalp when you put the hat on and you're gonna be wearing it for a while. I'm also working on SpamHat Remover for such instances, but it involves pissing in a tube attached to the hat and I probably won't have FDA approval for that until late next year.
Next step is the marketing campaign and saturating the region with television commercials for SpamHat, which will commence as soon as I'm done training Foghat to hold a goddamned video camera straight. I swear, sometimes I think that dog expects me to do all the work. Bricks out. º Last Column: The Omar Bricks Perpetual Motion Miracleº more columns | 
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Milestones1983: Reporter Raoul Dunkin begins down the long road of abandoning teams when things get rough, quitting a dodgeball match due to some minor bone fracturing.Now HiringYou. Seeking dedicated, hard-working you of moderate intelligence to engage in commune reading, web-surfing, and other you-centered activities. Payment and benefits to be based on experience.Who Let the Dogs Out?| 1. | Mom | | 2. | Dog Catcher Trainee | | 3. | Scrubs | | 4. | Possibly Me, Though I'm Not Admitting to It | | 5. | PETA | |
|   Shannon Elizabeth Divorces World's Luckiest Son of a Bitch BY roland mcshyster 7/11/2005 Stop the madness, America! Sorry, I thought that might be the secret cure for mental illness that has been eluding us all these eons. But I can see from my window that guy in the beekeeper outfit is still panhandling outside, so apparently my technique still needs work. Stop the madness, please? With fudge? Man, this could take all day. Let's review some movies.
In Theaters Now:
Charlie and the C+C Music Factory
The cynic in me knew something important was going to get lost in this latest remake of the classic tale about a poor kid who gets candy from an insane child-killer in a big hat. For the first half of the movie I was having a hard time putting my finger on just what it was, and then I realized: the entire cast was being played by members of...
Stop the madness, America! Sorry, I thought that might be the secret cure for mental illness that has been eluding us all these eons. But I can see from my window that guy in the beekeeper outfit is still panhandling outside, so apparently my technique still needs work. Stop the madness, please? With fudge? Man, this could take all day. Let's review some movies. In Theaters Now:Charlie and the C+C Music FactoryThe cynic in me knew something important was going to get lost in this latest remake of the classic tale about a poor kid who gets candy from an insane child-killer in a big hat. For the first half of the movie I was having a hard time putting my finger on just what it was, and then I realized: the entire cast was being played by members of the C+C Music Factory, a really embarrassing one-hit MTV wonder from the Milli Vanilli generation. Don't get me wrong, Freedom Williams is fine as Charlie, in an Ice-T meets Something Awful kind of way, but that black chick with the big jugs is awful as Willy Wonka, in a Scream-Singing All Her Lines For No Apparent Reason kind of way. This is truly one of those things that makes you go "Hmm… yep, I'm definitely gonna be sick." Dork WaterApparently implausibly mystical contaminants are really high on everyone's hot-button list lately, because we've already got two movies this week about magic goop that makes people weird. This time around it's Jennifer Connelly, and the shit that's dripping into her apartment turns you into a giant geek if you get any on your flesh. Tapping into the nightmares of jocks everywhere, Dork Water does a good job of showing just how scary geeks really are, with seemingly attractive people suddenly developing a passion for Dungeons & Dragons and the Final Fantasy series of video games. You'll cringe in your seat as once-hot women suddenly become unattractive when they start playing Magik and arguing Kirk vs. Picard. Thankfully for the film, Connelly stays off the drip and is eventually able to shock-and-awe the dorks out of her apartment, using a deft series of wedgies and the promise that one of the aliens with the big tits from Star Trek is waiting outside. Fantastic FourHollywood is putting the "dumb" back in s(d)um(b)mer with this latest comic book farce that proves to be neither comic nor particularly bookish. What's the set-up this time? The crew of a Fantastic Sam's haircut emporium are exposed to radioactive space spunk via some blue barbershop dip that wasn't disposed of in the appropriate lead-lined containers. And the resulting mutations make the four, you guessed it, Fantastic, and not just at cutting hair for cut-rate prices. One of the chicks can blow hot air out of her nose, making hair dryers unnecessary, another one can cut hair with her teeth, and the gay guy psychically knows everybody's business. Oh, and the shampoo boy has become extremely flammable, which is generally more of a liability than a superpower. But the evil owner of a nearby Supercuts has different plans for the bunch, namely he wants them on his staff for less than minimum wage. The resultant hour and a half of salary haggling is decidedly less exciting or superheroic than what most audience members were likely expecting, and you could tell the gay guy's lisp was totally fake. Woohoo! We're done, America, and I couldn't have done it without you. Actually, I could have, since frankly you guys didn't pull your weight at all, but it seemed like a nice thing to say. We'll be back again in two weeks, when I'll probably have to do most of the work myself, yet again. See you then, lazies.   |
