ast Wednesday’s final presidential debate left many questions unanswered in the minds of American voters, but not among them was the cockwad status of U.S. citizen Mark Buckles. Despite their numerous policy differences, both President Bush and Democratic challenger John Kerry saw squarely eye to eye on the Buckles issue, presenting a unified vision for a future America where Buckles is clearly a total cockwad.

According to political pundits analyzing the debates for the major networks, Kerry looks kind of like an alien and Bush makes a lot of stupid faces.

Seeking to differentiate his Buckles position from that of his challenger, Bush accused Kerry of changing his mind about whether or not Mark Buckles was a cockwad, citing Kerry’s infamous “I called Buckles a cockwad before I didn’t� quote from last year.

“Unlike that Belgian motherfucker over there,� Bush said with his trademark uninformed bravado. “I knew Mark Buckles was a cockwad from the start. And America needs strong leaders who know a Buckles when they see one.�

Meanwhile, Kerry accused Bush of refusing to admit his mistake in branding Buckles a cockwad before all available evidence had been collected, and merely going on the word of Secretary of State Colin Powell, who has personal reasons for his feelings about Buckles.

“Mark Buckles is not the cockwad that George Bush promised America,� explained Kerry. “We were sold a bill of goods. Yes, Mark is definitely a cockwad. But not the king-sized cockwad that this administration painted him to be, when they needed your support to go public about this young man.�

“And as for my cockwad stance,� Kerry elaborated. “At first I gave Buckles the benefit of the doubt, as I’d like to think any strong leader would. But once all the available evidence had been collected, it became clear that Mark is indeed a cockwad.�

Kerry seemed to struggle with his usual problem of talking out of both sides of his mouth during the debate Wednesday, attempting to appease liberals who think Buckles got a raw deal as well as centrist Democrats and undecideds who believe that Buckles is a cockwad, but still think Bush rushed to judgment too quickly in the matter.

Partisans on both sides shared their hysterical reactions with anyone who would listen, even before the debates had ended.

“Kerry is a God among men and his penis is lovely,� explained breathless Democratic partisan Dane Philsley when asked about his candidate’s debate performance.

“George Bush proved once and for all that he farts wisdom into a can for the world to huff,� disagreed Republican partisan Carla Dennis, apparently believing this to be a compliment.

Regardless of who came out ahead in the debates, both candidates have likely lost the vote of Buckles, who could not be reached for comment. Some pundits have argued that Buckles was the real loser of Wednesday’s debate, since whoever wins the November election, Mark Buckles will spend the next four years known as an unmistakable cockwad. What is unknown as of yet is how much of a boost Buckles’ supporters will give third-party candidate Ralph Nader, who has gone on record as saying he’s sure Buckles has his redeeming qualities.

According to a CNN.com instant poll taken immediately following the debates, Mark Buckles sucks balls.

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The tree hopped down from the hill
and he dashed through the field.
The sun had been peeled
and the clouds were as plump
as a Chinaman's rump.

A squirrel was asleep on a branch,
he awoke with a blanch
and he turned a stark white
when the fright
leapt up from his toes like a flash.

A duck somersaulted through the grass,
he was stoned off his ass
on crackers.
No, no, quackers!
The duck thought this funny as he saulted.

So he missed it when the tree ran by,
though a fly
saw it twelve dozen times
because that's the kind of eyes
God gave him, we surmise
he got bored after five.

When Luchas, who was chewing on a fig
he had pulled from his wig,
saw the tree he cashed it in.
In the seat of his pants,
where a platoon of ants
quickly voted to find a new place to live.

Sanchel thought the thing was a dream,
so she couldn't help but scream
when she saw the tree had ice cream.

"A looper! A looper on the loose!"
cried a tri-colored goose
when he saw the tree streak nakedly by.

"Ah-ah?" said poor Renal from the South
as ham fell from his mouth.
When the tree stepped on right-foot blue
he forgot how to chew,
his Twister picnic interrupted.

The scientist was taken aback
while on her date with Lumber Jack.
"This cannot be! I must investigate!"

But she for one ran too slow and too late,
for Jack jumped up in a haste
and with axe in had, he took up chase.

This parade was quite the sight to see.
A dozen lit out for the tree,
sure that magical lands awaited.

But when the tree dove trunk-first in the river,
the group gave up with a toe-dip and a shiver,
their curiosity abated.

After all, let's not get carried away here.

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I definitely need to hire out as a Fourth of July consultant. If you think you don't need a Fourth of July consultant, you've never experienced a Bricks Fourth of July, end of story.

It's about a month away, I know, but when you want to make it a memorable good time, you've got to plan well in advance. It's just not smart to put a houseful of fireworks and a truckload of Miller Genuine Draft together without more than a little planning. Now usually I'm a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of guy, even if the ass of the pants rips out and you get kicked out of the kid's birthday party, but hey, it's not like I knew the kid anyway—nothing ventured, nothing gained; but when it comes to Fourth of July, Omar Bricks turns into a rocket scientist of event planning.

It's more than just explosions and drunken fight after drunken fight—shit, if I didn't have that on a daily basis I'd hang up my hat and go home already. The way I see it, Fourth of July is the world's celebration of pure, uncut freedom, and for me there's nothing better worth celebrating. Hanging out with buddies, sipping beers, and trading swimming pool-building tips is like a fart in freedom's face. Omar Bricks don't fart in anyone's face unless they personally asked for it or take out those little opera glasses in public, which is the same as the former in my book.

It takes more than a month just to save up enough money to rent the arena. Why go through the trouble and expense of renting an arena? Well, you might as well ask what's the point in having a demolition derby—you can't hold it in your backyard, don't argue with that because I've tried. And the demolition derby is the big part of the Bricks Fourth of July gathering, and in the tight-money times I haven't been able to rent an arena I find an unguarded farmer field is a fantastic substitute. If you check with your friends who fake crop circles on the weekends they can probably tell you which places are frequently unsupervised and have the best tire traction.

Then you have to select the special car, I like to nickname it the "doom buggy". The best way, I've discovered, is to hold a little private lottery the night before—if you have one hundred ping pong balls, a giant hamster ball, and a tuxedo, have a little fun with it, it's like a party in itself. Then whatever number wins that's your car, since they'll all have numbers painted on them at the derby. I would recommend keeping it something only you know. Sure, you can let everybody in on the secret, but when most people find out the car's trunk is full of fireworks the volunteers to drive it dry up real fast.

No demolition derby is complete without a lot of beer, whether you're a spectator or a driver. Still, with luck you'll get flipped over by the car with the bulldozer prod welded on the front early and can get a seat right up front in time for the first explosion to hit the doom buggy. Man, that's Fourth of July. Our founding fathers would have been proud enough to piss themselves.

That's just my favorite part, of course. Some Bricks partygoers love shaving the heads of the derby losers. Others love the swimming pool full of Thunderbird, throwing flammable things on the bonfire, or the wrestle Lil Duncan contest. I'm not complaining, I love every part of it, even the swarming of S.W.A.T. team members to close the whole thing down gets me kind of misty-eyed. Like America, there's a little something for everyone. Bricks out.

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