June 18, 2003

Aside from that whole Bay of Pigs thing, it seems that every international incident involving Cuba lands hilarious results. And since three years have passed since the Elian Gonzales caper, it's been high time for some zany antics down on Florida's third moon. And what zany antics have indeed found us today.

It seems Fidel Castro got a prank phone call from a Miami radio DJ, who was impersonating Venezuelan dictator Hugo Chavez, claiming to have lost a suitcase on a recent jaunt to Argentina.

Ok, stop here. Does anybody else see a problem with this? Apparently any fool on the street can pick up the phone and call Fidel Castro direct. Is the guy listed in the White Pages or what? You'd think that getting a hold of a national dictator would require at least a little more effort. But I guess Castro just wouldn't be Castro if he couldn't be reached from foreign countries in three rings of the phone.

And if you have any doubts whether Castro is indeed a major idiot, allow me to put your doubts to rest with the following excerpt from the Agence-France Press (AFP):

"...Castro eventually hung up, ending the 25-minute conversation."

Twenty five freaking minutes. We all knew Castro's a knob, but even my moronic high school chum Ned Jubran would have figured it out in less than 25 minutes... and he's the one who thinks that Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae are black comedians.

God only knows how long the phone call would have lasted if the DJ didn't finally give in and tell Castro that he was being pranked! "You fell for it," he reportedly told the dictator. "...[T]he whole of Miami is listening to you, Fidel Castro."

Fidel Castro was not pleased. And perhaps the only thing funnier than Castro's actual reaction to the caller is the AFP's coverage of his reaction:

"'What did I fall for, you shit,' the irate Cuban leader answered, adding further crude expletives, including references to the anatomy of the host's mother," (AFP).

Now I just have to say, Fidel Castro is one funny bi-otch. Here he is on live radio, representing his country to thousands of American and Cuban listeners, and what does he do? He starts going nuts with language that'd make a sailor blush. I especially like the "yo momma" comment. That was a nice touch, Fidel. Real classy.

Man, what would we do without good ol' "Rockin' Johnny" Castro and his hilarious international escapades? With all the crap going on in the Middle East these days, it's nice to see that someone's keeping it real in the hilarity department. HAIL COMMUNISM!


Above: Cuban knob Fidel Castro, who may have yelled "Mother Shitter!" to a Miami DJ who prank called him on Wednesday.

June 13, 2003

How has Barry White managed to trick the world like he has? I mean, come on now. Does anybody really believe he's the sweltering sex-machine that his music makes him out to be? Look at the man. Just look at him. The guy's disgusting. There's no way he's getting any — at least not nearly as much as he'd like us all to think. How has he managed to pull his sensual, seductive wool over our eyes like that? Yeah, he's a good singer, and yeah he is one smooth mofo, but is he really the great lover he claims to be? I sincerely doubt it. Great beast is more like it.


Above: So-called "lover" Barry White, whose beastly lovemaking has led to the deaths of at least three women, probably.

June 10, 2003

Well, turns out the star of the NBC reality show For Love Or Money is a sexual pervert. According to the website The Smoking Gun, reality TV ultratool Rob Campos was booted out of the United States Marine Corps' JAG program for groping a female officer's breasts. Campos (hereafter to be referred to as "the tool," "pervo," or "boobieman") admitted to keeping this little detail hidden during his screening for the part; however he denies that he actually did anything wrong — probably because he's embarrassed. And he should be. Check this out:

"...[A]n account of the incident provided by the female officer in an interview... said Campos rushed into the woman's room and grabbed her breasts. The woman said she struck Campos in the groin with her knee, causing him to enter the woman's bathroom and vomit." (Reuters)

The tool gives a different account of the incident. In his version, he never grabbed her ta-ta's, he never got kneed in the Charlies, and he never vomited. And it gets better: SeƱor Pervo turns it around and blames her for misconduct! "She was totally up in my junk," he says. "She wanted me like a polar bear wants a new set of snow shoes." (Note: this quote was made up for the purpose of demonstrating how big of a tool Mr. Boobieman is).

NBC says this new twist in the saga of sucky reality TV will not be announced on-air, nor will it affect the show in any way. Which begs the question: why the crap are you wasting all of our time with this "news" if it bears no consequence? Why is this story making front page headlines, while we've got Osama bin Laden and Michael Eisner stockpiling weapons of mass destruction, story on page F-17?

Someone must be really bored in the newsroom...


Above: Reality TV tool Rob Campos, who enjoys groping women's boobs both on-air in NBC's For Love Or Money, and off-air in the United States Marine Corps. (Reuters photo)

June 7, 2003

I went to get a haircut today at this place called Sal's. I've been going there for about 10 years, and have only walked out with a really good haircut maybe three times. But I keep going back because it's only six bucks, and I figure for that price I don't mind getting a lousy haircut. I change my mind on the matter, though, every time I walk out the door looking like Forrest Gump. But by the time I need another haircut, I've long forgotten all the "I'm never going back to that butcher shop" business that had poured from me two months prior, as I'd practice my comb-over in the mirror, reminding myself that "it'll grow back in a couple of weeks."


It looks alright now, after giving myself a second haircut in the bathroom with a pair of paper scissors. Heck, I did a better job than the barber did. Maybe I'm in the wrong line of work...

June 5, 2003

The Artrepublic gallery in Brighton, England seems to be getting in a bit of a legal spat with the Royal Mail service over its latest showpiece. The artwork features a mock postage stamp in which the Queen is sporting a gas mask. I figure it is either an anti-war piece, or perhaps it is suggestive of her majesty eating too much royal cabbage and beans. Either way, I think it's great. Unfortunately, the Queen does not share my sentiments, and neither does the Royal Mail, who says it infringes on copyrights. All I have to say on the matter is lighten up, kids. You worry about getting people their mail, and let the artists make their art.


Above: The USPS re-released this 1961 postage stamp earlier this week, which features Barbara Billingsley of Leave It To Beaver fame dawning a gas mask and protective headgear in preparation for the imminent nuclear winter to come, courtesy of those red pinko bastards

June 3, 2003

I've been having really vivid dreams lately – like, really vivid. But now it's stopping. Clearly I have repressed sexual desires for my mother.