Bush Plans to Send Troops to Moon by 2018

hild, space enthusiasts and sci-fi nerds everywhere cheered the president on when White House officials announced this week the president was "seriously considering" a space war. Defense contractors reportedly wet themselves as well.

The buff and sexy White House brain trust released information this week that, among other considerations for the president's closing year of his first, and likely only, term were staging the most expensive and colorful war yet, with the space people. Or, the president's representatives allowed, other countries seeking to colonize the moon.

That's right: The moon. Nick-named in the documents accompanying the press release, "The 51st state," which is rumored to have pissed Puerto Rico off, but come on, you know they were just stringing you guys along—you all may dress to the nines, but the your GNP is lower than Utah's.

The policy, which is being "sincerely given a look," comes in response to a combination of presidential inspirations, including fear of China's recent feat of sending a Chinese guy into space, and another marathon of Starship Trooper DVD viewings by the commander-in-chief.

"The president," said an anonymous White House official who prefers French-cut underwear, "has always wanted to be a bold leader, and to strike preemptively against off-worlders looking to take advantage of our limited intergalactic colonization program. That's a failing of the Democratic administration that preceded us. But Mr. Bush says by the end of his term we'll have regular flights to the moon. And by the end of his clone's term in 2018, we will have established an impressive military force on the moon. With lasers."

Señor Bush is also not ruling out the idea of low-income housing on the moon, to help deal with the projected astronomical damage to the middle class expected to be caused by another term of his presidency.

"I've got plans for the homeless," Bush said in response to a question during a press conference last week, rubbing his hands together and laughing maniacally. Most reporters attributed the enigmatic statement to a possible new "eat the homeless" program or turning them into low-cost diesel fuel somehow, but it does seem to jibe with rumors of a homeless colony on the dark side of the moon, dubbed in White House documents "the Pink Floyd Province."

"The homeless are people," said the same unnamed White House source, while working on his glutes. "They are people just like us, and they want to work. And when we have established a moon rock mine, we'll definitely need all the slave labor we can get. Did I say 'slave'? I meant inexpensive labor. I mean minimum wage. Labor."

If the moon space fort idea pans out, the prez will likely begin making requests to Congress for allocation of outer space funding, including up to $15 billion for advanced space program designs. An additional $2 billion of that may be requested for construction of a one-man presidential shuttle, with more than half of that going to design a rugged-looking flight suit.

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Hello hello, reading persons. Boris is here for column.

So much to tell of story!

Big news is Boris is Angel from Hell like in easy Wynona Ryder movie! Is true!

So exciting. But Boris must tell how these things does happen. First of it all starts with Boris decides to decorate apartment to surprise robot friend Louis. Louis is in such bad mood all times because economy thing is bad for robot jobs, no persons wants to pay to see and talk to plain robot. Them does go to movie to see Arnold robot who is exterminator thing to go back in time. This is big deal. Persons are having all so much fun with Arnold thing who is important robot president of California. So hard for Louis, who is only robot president of apartment and does not like to go back in time. If person does ask can Louis robot go back in time like exterminator Louis says he will go back in time to kick person's ass. This is funny saying thing.

So Louis is grouch all times and is not happy that Boris does leave apartment door open all night in case Similar to Skippy dog does come home. All other dogs and hobo persons does come in to eat Boris' peanut butter and make big mess, is bad thing. Boris does not get award for this idea.

So now Boris does have better thinking, decide to decorate apartment to bring happy days for Louis friend, like show with Fozzie person. First idea is to get lot of clinging wrap to cover apartment and make shining and easy to clean. But after Boris uses whole roll to decorate door idea does become too expensive. "Damn nuts" is Boris saying for this. But then Boris does get new idea to push old idea out of brain: Boris will make apartment beautiful with sparkling Jolly Ranching candies, to make such happy place for Louis.

Boris does get superman glue and big bags of candies from store, and goes home to glue candies on apartment. All afternoons is such hard work with dizzy glue and Boris is glued to many things like couch cushion and stray dog with name of Bart. Boris also does eat too many of decorating supplies and takes break to have stomach aching. But after long times all day Boris is done and apartment has beautiful covering of Jolly Ranching candies in all places.

Boris is so excited for Louis to see, can barely sit on couch. Also can barely sit on couch because Jolly Ranching candies are poking in butt. New beautiful couch is not so comfortable as old ugly couch thing. Also does get very sticky from sweating, but is paying price of beauty.

When Louis does finally gets home, him is too excited for speaking. Then apartment is so beautiful Louis does scream for joy. Next for joy Louis does yell at Boris get out of Jolly Ranching apartment before he does kill Boris with gratitude. Louis does want Boris to bring T.V. too, but in excitement Louis throws T.V. too hard for Boris to catch.

Boris does go down to house of buses so Louis can enjoy beautiful new apartments by alone self. Other things does happen that Boris does forget, but soon Boris does have tripping adventure to end up in beautiful place called Bone Gap, Illinois. So fun a place. This is place where Boris does meet Angels from Hell and gets ride to hell for no money. Is so fun because bus-riding persons does not like when Boris sings "Baby Come Back/Babies Got Back" medley that is very beautiful, but Angels from Hell don't not care. If Angels can hear Boris, they like this song.

Ok, is time to ride on chopping thing. Boris will write more when getting to hell, goodbye!

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We're off to a big, booming new year, and by "we" I mean "me," who knows what you're up to. I have solved one of the great mysteries plaguing me since long ago in 2002: I have unmasked the Masked Dude, my stalker.

The challenge was issued, and last week the cage match was carried out, in an extremely small cage. The opponents were fierce—one, yours truly, the other, a hairless, burly fellow of muscular stock and carrying a one-foot advantage. Some might have foolishly bet on the Masked Dude, but I didn't gold-glitter these wrestling tights of mine with expensive gold shavings because I'm a loser—well, not always a loser. This time, I won.

From the corners we each heard the bell ding!, rung by my cat Makeshift, and we sprung into action. Oh, I was like a titan, in tights. Crash here! Boom there! Wudhustlethump in the middle! Then, I began wrestling.

It was a tough match, true; perhaps the toughest I ever had, even though it wasn't as tough as all the ones I lost. I managed to avoid his deadly, strong-armed pins. I bopped him with "the Ancient Elbow"! I flew through the air and pummeled him with "the Tiny Chesthammer"! And then, when I had him on the ropes, figuratively, I sprang off the ropes, literally, and gave him the ol' Rok Finger "Stamp of Approval"!

The Stamp of Approval is one move from which there is no recovery. Right into his right foot until it was flattened by pure Rok Finger power, and the Dude went down like brick balloons. Little could I have guessed, I had found his Achilles' heel, though it was strangely placed on his big toe rather than the back of the foot. Yes, the Dude suffered from an extremely ingrown toenail that frequently led to his defeat in other matches, especially those matches where he wasn't pinned before the bell's ding faded out.

I put the hurt on him, good people. It was quite a sight, and a beautiful sound as well, though I wouldn't recommend the smell. The crack! of that toe bone breaking, it was the sound of Rok Finger's wrestling dominance in a match for the ages. Ages 60 and up, maybe, but ages nonetheless. For years, both I and the Masked Dude wondered who would win when these titans tussled, and now that it's over I can admit I was more than a little scared. Scared, Rok? You? I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, asshole.

There was only one prize for this lonely match, and I'm not referring to the custom-made belt I purchased at the swap meet, although I guess technically that would make it two prizes; but the prize I refer to is the unmasking of the Masked Dude. And you can imagine my shock to find it was Camembert!

No, not my roommate Camembert, don't be an idiot. He's in a wheelchair. No, it was another Camembert, Camembert Hickson. I didn't know him at all and had never seen his face before that night, but still you can imagine the shock to find out he shared the same unlikely name as my roommate. Weird, isn't it?

It was one of the highlights of my life, beating that fool and putting him off my case forever. And no one was there to share it with me, except my cat, Makeshift. And, yeah, the Masked Dude. Where was Lee? Where was Camembert? The other one?

This has helped put everything in perspective for me. I offered to take Dude Camembert out for a victory beer, on me, but he was desperately in need of medical attention. No hard feelings between us remain—I hope he got that medical attention. But my cat and I went out for a beer.

Rok Finger is a man of motion, a lonely man, with only a cat as his real friend. I've remained in one place too long, as roommate Camembert has long suggested. It's time for me to move on with my life, if not physically, then at least spiritually. So even though I remain at home in the apartment, upstairs I've already left. Rok Finger is a loner, and one day I'll find someone to share that isolation with.

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