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Scientists Discover Massive Burrito at Center of GalaxyUnexpected entrée sets off grumble in tummy of astronomical community October 28, 2002 |
Marquette, Michigan Imagining Dept. The space burrito, if of the breakfast variety, could decide the "chicken vs. the egg" debate forever. Unless there’s a massive space chicken someplace.
"I was staying late in the lab one night, after everybody else had gone home," stated the lab’s head astronomer, Bruce Coltrane. "And I was getting pretty tired and hungry so I was about to shut off the telescopes and get some late-night BBQ when I caught sight of something on the screen that didn’t seem quite right."
"At first I thought somebody must’ve taped another one of those pictures cut out of a Maxim to the screen, since the guys are pretty funny ...
stronomers at Michigan’s Northern Peninsula Basalt College went public today with observations made near the cloudy heart of the Milky Way Galaxy, which have indicated with near certainty the existence of a massive central space burrito, a theoretical Mexican entrée that had previously eluded detection.
"I was staying late in the lab one night, after everybody else had gone home," stated the lab’s head astronomer, Bruce Coltrane. "And I was getting pretty tired and hungry so I was about to shut off the telescopes and get some late-night BBQ when I caught sight of something on the screen that didn’t seem quite right."
"At first I thought somebody must’ve taped another one of those pictures cut out of a Maxim to the screen, since the guys are pretty funny about that kind of stuff. I could tell you stories about the time we thought we found Carmen Electra orbiting Chiron. What a crazy week! But this time, when I checked closer, it couldn’t be denied. We were dealing with the genuine article here. I caught my breath, looked closer, and fuck a duck, man! That thing’s a giant burrito!"
"And then I laughed, ’cause, man, what a crazy thing to say! Shiiit."
"Bruce is the man. If he said he saw a gigantic burrito 500 times the size of the sun out in the middle of the Milky Way, then that’s good enough for me," said fellow astronomer and goatee advocate Mark Fitch. "Sign me up for the Burrito Cult or whatever the deal’s going to be now. I’ll put on the velcro sneakers and drink the blue Kool-Aid when the burrito swings by the earth to pick up the true believers. Fuck it, man, whatever."
Since having its state funding cut in 1994, Northern Peninsula Basalt College’s astronomy program has led the nation in startling astronomical discoveries. Among those include Animal Planet, Orion’s Tits and the St. Bernard of Delta 7.
When asked what he thinks of the astronomy community’s opinion of the Northern Peninsula Basalt astronomy department, Fitch was philsophical. "Eh, fuck ’em. What do they know, with their giant telescopes and their fancy degrees and all that noise? Without street smarts, all that shit is useless anyway."
"As far as I know, this is the first time someone’s found anything like this," offered Coltrane. "I mean, they’ve probably found Mexican food out in space before, but this big? Tacquitos, maybe. And what if they found one like a million years ago, before anybody knew what a burrito was? What would they call it? A space tube? And back then they didn’t have big-assed telescopes like we’ve got now. They might have mistaken it for a Chimichanga. Maybe? Make that probably."
"It might be difficult for the layman to understand how such a thing could exist. But trust me when I say that the universe is full of all kinds of strange and mysterious shwag," continued Coltrane, backed by a poster of Copernicus smoking the moon in a water bong.
Fitch and Coltrane were wary of careless speculation, but both agreed that a manned mission to explore the burrito was practically inevitable.
"Who knows what mysteries could be wrapped up in that tortilla?" pondered Coltrane. "Like, how many layers has that thing got? And does it have guacamole? I hate guacamole. But who made it, and why haven’t they eaten it yet? That’s one to blow your mind. But even just on the practical level, we’ve got to get some guys up there. We’re talking beans the size of foreign cars. Poor people could live in those things, and then eat their houses."
Fitch agreed, as he licked his lips and distractedly eyed the heavens. the commune news works hard for the money, so we sure hope you don’t consider that a complete blowjob. Ramon Nootles is every mother’s worst nightmare, and one very unlucky girl’s Mystery Date.
 | Sniper Perpetuates Exciting New Muslim StereotypesOld negative typecasting replaced by brand new negative images October 28, 2002 |
Rockville, Maryland Whit Pistol/AP Police search the vehicle belonging to daring new stereotype and alleged sniper John Allen Muhammad. The picture of the gun is for shits and giggles.
The suspects arrested for the crimes, John Allen Muhammad and John Lee Malvo, were like a Sanford & Son for the Guns and Ammo set, spending years of their lives as desperate loners together, acting for reasons not yet known to the public as they killed random victims and threatened the United States, requesting the reasonable extortion fee of $10 million to cease their terror. While little is known about the suspects, it is known that Muhammad, a Muslim, has done a bang-up job in putting a positive fo...
eligious differences again proved insurmountable, this time in the case of the pair of snipers who terrorized the east coast of the United States with a string of fatal attacks that left ten dead and countless others terrified to walk in a straight line to work or school.
The suspects arrested for the crimes, John Allen Muhammad and John Lee Malvo, were like a Sanford & Son for the Guns and Ammo set, spending years of their lives as desperate loners together, acting for reasons not yet known to the public as they killed random victims and threatened the United States, requesting the reasonable extortion fee of $10 million to cease their terror. While little is known about the suspects, it is known that Muhammad, a Muslim, has done a bang-up job in putting a positive foot forward for the Islamic community.
"Oh, goody," said President of the Positive Islam Group (PIG) Al-Abib Farouzi, "at last, a Muslim making the news who is not a foreign terrorist. This is more than we could have hoped for."
According to PIG, Muhammad has managed to break the usual American stereotype of Muslims who live in faraway third-world countries who wish death on America and commit gigantic acts of terrorism.
"Now when people think of Muslims," said Farouzi, "they'll know that in addition to the foreign-born terrorists moving around them, Muslims can also be van-driving serial killers who strike without apparent motivation and prey on anybody who makes an easy shot."
Muhammad, in his two-man tirade of raining bullets, has challenged post-September 11th stereotypes of domestic Muslims being normal Americans with no desire to kill or harm in any way. He has also reminded most Americans, who are quick to assume security in the areas they live, that danger doesn't only lurk in air travel or opening strange envelopes, but can come from anywhere at any time. Death is only a random bullet away.
"Thank you, Mr. Muhammad," said 24-year-old Maryland college student Marjorie Block. "I had previously begun to speculate maybe the anger Muslims feel toward the United States was possibly politically motivated due to unwanted government intervention in countries we had financial stakes in—I now foolishly see that Muslims just want money. Or they hate people walking around without flak jackets and helmets."
The negative Muslim images couldn't have come at a worse time for Islamic Americans, who were beginning to make a dent in negative Muslim images in the wake of the United States' War on Terror and the possibility of war with Iraq. Plans to add an Islamic muppet to Sesame Street have been stalled in the wake of the sniper arrest and ABC has dropped a mid-season pilot for My Six Wives and Kids, a Muslim sitcom.
"We have worked diligently at improving the perception of Muslims in the United States, domestic and abroad," PIG President Farouzi later stated. "And our hard work has been brought down by another brazen asshole. Thanks, dickhead—any other negative racial or religious stereotypes you'd like to perpetuate, as long as you're up?" the commune news is halfway through reading the Koran right now—don't you dare tell us how it ends! Raoul Dunkin is the king of sarcasm around here… at least, we think he is—it's hard to tell if he's being sarcastic or not when he says that.
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 October 13, 2003 Oops, I Did a Hardcore Porno AgainOkay, so it turns out that movie I did over the summer was a hardcore porno. Who knew? Just goes to show you, I guess.
I probably never would have even found out if it weren't for my dad watching it in the living room while mom was hosting her book club. One of the ladies, Ms. Priscilla, pointed at the screen and said, "Oh my goodness, Bunny, that looks like your daughter!"
Of course I jumped to look, thinking it was Cassandra. It wasn't too likely, but dad likes a lot of girl-on-girl action, and Cassandra probably loves to participate, I supposed it was possible. But it was me! No kidding, I was the one in the porno. Boy, was my face red.
I did so many movies over the summer after I got rolling in the low-budget sci-fi movie biz it was probably ju...
º Last Column: Video Games Killed the Child Star
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Okay, so it turns out that movie I did over the summer was a hardcore porno. Who knew? Just goes to show you, I guess.
I probably never would have even found out if it weren't for my dad watching it in the living room while mom was hosting her book club. One of the ladies, Ms. Priscilla, pointed at the screen and said, "Oh my goodness, Bunny, that looks like your daughter!"
Of course I jumped to look, thinking it was Cassandra. It wasn't too likely, but dad likes a lot of girl-on-girl action, and Cassandra probably loves to participate, I supposed it was possible. But it was me! No kidding, I was the one in the porno. Boy, was my face red.
I did so many movies over the summer after I got rolling in the low-budget sci-fi movie biz it was probably just a matter of time before I wound up in a porno. You're going from house to house, one shady basement after another, step in front of cameras, guys give you scripts (or "gist" the scene to you) and you ad-lib for a couple minutes. Then it's out the door, you got a comic book cover to shoot or an E! True Hollywood Story on Emmanuel Lewis interview to do. Turn around you're in Spread Eagle 4 and you don't remember anything about it.
It's important to know how movies work, if you're a layman or laywoman, and I don't mean the kind of laywomen in the porn movie itself. I mean ignorants. It's not like you go to script meetings, create a "character" for yourself, spend minutes or even hours rehearsing, and then shoot the thing. You're not there for hours watching everyone else work so you know how to play your scene. I mean, some workaholics and shit do that, but not real movers and shakers like myself. You step in, do some crazy stuff for the camera, and then let them fix it in editing. It's not like you ever expect to see the movie again.
So in that perspective, yeah, it's easy to end up in a porno. Directors just tell you all the stuff line-by-line. "Go here, say these lines, sit down here, take your top off, kiss that guy, say these lines, get on the floor," whatever, stuff like that. You have no idea what they're going to use it for, the context or nothing.
Not that I was doing anything like that in Spread Eagle 4. I was just playing a secretary who dropped off a file in Dick Thick's office. I walk in while he's got some secretary bent over the desk and he looks up and says, "Hey, you know my secretary, Clarissa Coleman, from Who's Your Daddy?" I didn't know they were actually doing anything, you know, penetrating. They were good actors, or I thought they were.
It was used all out of context in the film, too. When they used my scene in the movie the girl was on top and they were on the coffee table, and he said, "Hey, it's Clarissa Coleman, from Li'l Poachers!" Which makes no sense. I said, "Cool! I've gotta go," which wasn't a line but something I really said. Totally ruined the real scene, shitty editors. And they always cut to the guy's face during the money shot.
When I think about it, it does kind of piss me off they didn't ask me to be in the movie, you know, doing stuff. I'm sure I'm hot enough and I keep in pretty good shape for someone who doesn't exercise. They probably thought I had too much class, and I can't blame them for that.
Now that I think about it, I don't think I got paid for that movie at all. I could be in for some serious cash, if dad's reaction is anything like the average pornophile's. º Last Column: Video Games Killed the Child Starº more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is. Jesus, I'm wasted.”
-Dan QuayleFortune 500 CookieDon't stop thinking about tomorrow—we hear if you're late to your own castration they charge double. Anyone can be a hero to a small child, just buy a monster truck and never take your sunglasses off. Try eating more greens: we find it hilarious and it pisses off those asshole golfers. This week's lucky medical procedures not covered by Medicaid: assectomy, therapeutic genital massage, gene therapy for "itchy taint," installation of a second "failsafe" spare heart—baboon or otherwise, and goat removal.
Try again later.Worst Country Songs Ever| 1. | She Left Me for an African-American | | 2. | I Don't Feel Like Drinkin' | | 3. | Here's a Quarter, Go Buy Some Bubblegum | | 4. | What's the Capital of Tennessee Again? | | 5. | If Anyone Needs Me, I'll be Down at the Nail Salon | | 6. | Regretfulness is the Hardest Word to Spell | | 7. | Mama Didn't Raise No Episcopalians | | 8. | I'm So Lonesome I Could Call an Escort Service | | 9. | I Got This Hat on Sale | | 10. | You Mispronounced My Name for the Very Last Time | |
|   Future Bob Fails to Prevent Senator's Death BY roland mcshyster 8/4/2003 Well how the hell are ya, America? Excuse my saucy tone, but I'm fuckin' smashed. That's right… wait, what were we talking about? Movies! Blow 'em out your ass, America! I'm fuckin' sick of movies, this week we're going to review vegetables. Cucumbers! Radishes! En… Endives! Yeah!
Alright, smartass, I'm out of vegetables. Here's your goddamn movies:
In Theaters
American Wedding
A formerly hardass franchise has gone all Friends on us, ladies and gentlemen. Hollywood's obese felines are betting you'll slap down your hard-earned pesos to watch these dirtballs get hitched, and I say screw 'em! Screw 'em and their imported water. If I wanted to see somebody stick their...
Well how the hell are ya, America? Excuse my saucy tone, but I'm fuckin' smashed. That's right… wait, what were we talking about? Movies! Blow 'em out your ass, America! I'm fuckin' sick of movies, this week we're going to review vegetables. Cucumbers! Radishes! En… Endives! Yeah!
Alright, smartass, I'm out of vegetables. Here's your goddamn movies:
In Theaters
American Wedding
A formerly hardass franchise has gone all Friends on us, ladies and gentlemen. Hollywood's obese felines are betting you'll slap down your hard-earned pesos to watch these dirtballs get hitched, and I say screw 'em! Screw 'em and their imported water. If I wanted to see somebody stick their dick in a wedding cake I would have gone to my cousin Dave's wedding last month. So let me be the first to add this movie to my list of things we're all boycotting: Pizza Hut, the boyscouts and this movie. Oh, and vegetables. Fuck vegetables. You heard it here first.
Fucking Friday
Jamie Lee Curtis and some anonymous tampon star in this triple-hashed remake of all those "Dad woke up with his teenage son's boner" movies from the 80's. Only now it's a mother and daughter sharing the misery, and it's not a onetime deal, but rather a once-a-week hassle that the family has come to know derisively as Fucking Friday. The expected faux-hilarity ensues, with daughter getting hot flashes and mom getting hot pants, blah blah blah. The bulk of the film consists of queasy sequences featuring mom being pawed by underage slobs with beer on their breath and daughter air-sickness bagging her way through routine, mechanical sex with dad, both of which I sincerely could have done without. Somebody actually found Mark Harmon buried in the wreck of the Lusitania and dug him up to co-star as the hot neighbor who may or may not have mind-switched with a two-year-old Latino boy. They must have figured Harmon had the necessary experience with catastrophes, but at least the first time around he probably got some decent seafood.
Gigli
With his latest picture, Ben Affleck proves he's whiter than any of us could have possibly imagined, despite his current marital status as a lemur clinging tenaciously to Jennifer Lopez's ass. Affleck plays Larry Gigli, a walking punchline whose constant references to "gettin' Gigli wit it" demonstrate that Affleck can't even appropriate faux-black culture from Will Smith, of all people. Thankfully, J-Lo sings a song on the soundtrack, so maximum camp value is achieved, allowing audiences to enjoy the film on an ironic level even if they like acting and music.
The Secret Lives of Dennis
Who out there among you didn't think it was too late for a Head of the Class spin-off movie? Okay, that's not many hands, but I'll assume that's because not many of you foresaw the possibility, or even recall the show from your cocaine-encrusted chest of 80's memories. For those of you that did think a spin-off was a good idea, wouldn't you have spun off a movie around rebel loner Eric or even geek chic Arvid? Okay, you guys with your hands still up are just fucking with me, go on home and quit busting my balls. As for the rest of you, were you really thinking of going to this movie? Good God man, don't you have some chores to do? Stay home and spellcheck your suicide note or something, for the love of all that is holy.
S.W.A.T.
The latest Playstation game to skip the Playstation and come straight to the theater is a loose (and I mean like the cousin that let you feel her up at the family reunion loose) sequel to the 1994 Stephen "Midget Golfer" Dorf flick S.F.W.. This is not to be confused with the Bridget "Anaconda" Fonda handjob S.W.F. (Super White Female) or the Three Stooges flick W.F.S. (Where the Fuck is Shep?). Since the original wasn't actually about anything, the producers had the leeway to build the sequel from the ground up, and to give the franchise a kick in the ass by making it a blaxploitation thrill ride. As with the original, the American public was deemed too square to be exposed to this film's title in its full glory (Some White-Ass Turkeys), but savvy filmgoers should know without being told that Samuel L. Jackson wouldn't get mixed up in another lame movie about the actual S.W.A.T. team, not after The Negotiator. Though he did still manage to walk into a door frame by not demanding that the screenwriter change his character's name from Hohmo, I can't help but think that's going to get more laughs than any of the actual jokes in the picture.
Alright, everybody out unless they want Bacardi on their pants! You got your movies, now leave Uncle Roland to drown his sorrows in a kiddie pool full of inexpensive rum. Check back in another two weeks, but if nobody answers when you knock then just dream up your own pithy comments for once. Lazy bastards.    |
