ovember's presidential election officially became a four-man race when Sen. John Edwards, of North Carolina, announced Wednesday he had picked Sen. John Kerry to be his presidential running mate, throwing in his own hat for the vice-presidency. Edwards, the dynamic Kennedyesque Congressman who gave Kerry a real challenge in the race for the Democratic nomination, could provide enough boost to take the party into the White House this fall.

"No longer will America be divided under the current administration," Edwards declared, towering over a small podium as his bellows carried across a crowd of supporters. "We will stand united, and the people will have their way when we win back the White House!"

Edwards, the ten-foot tall former trial lawyer, had Kerry announce his decision in an email Tuesday, followed by a longer press conference on Wednesday. Rumors the two had disagreed on many key issues were dispelled when the behemoth senator hoisted Kerry up in his palm and carried him through the crowd on his shoulders.

"Edwards-Kerry in 2004!" they both shouted to the crowd.

Party insiders have speculated Kerry might decline Edwards ticket invitation, opting for a less stunning candidate, like Florida Sen. Bob Graham, Missouri Sen. What's-His-Name, or Joe Piscopo. Rumors had put Kerry at seeking Republican senator John McCain of Arizona for bipartisan ticket, but insiders say Kerry feared an assassination at the hands of Fox News and Clear Channel radio executives.

In the end, the Massachusetts senator accepted the offer to join the Edwards vice presidential ticket, putting to rest fears the junior North Carolina political superstar would overshadow… uhm… oh, shit, I just said it… you know, rhymes with Larry. Kerry! In his acceptance speech Wednesday, Edwards defied Kerry critics who accused the senator of leading an uninspired race and being an undead zombie.

"I've known this man for at least a few weeks. I think we've met before that, but I'm not that sure," said Edwards, gesturing to a man sitting two seats down from Kerry, before being corrected by an assistant. "This one, this one's John Kerry, and he's going to be our next president. He's got years of experience in Congress, and an outstanding record of service for our country. And I'm sure he's done other stuff. And I'll be happy to make him my partner as I pursue the vice-presidency!"

Concluded the Herculean young senator: "Change is coming, Washington, and that change will be called… aw, shit. I just said it! I just said it…"

The Bush campaign shook off any worries about the threat of an Edwards-Kerry ticket.

"People respond to the vice-president," said campaign spokesperson Wanda Waywitten. "Some people say he's a mean son of a bitch, a cruel, cruel little man, but I don't believe it. People only call him Dick because it's his name, despite what all those rumors suggest. He's not scared of death, his tiny heart has stopped so many times, so he's certainly not scared of a ten-foot Democrat. Is it really true he carved Mount Rushmore?"

Edwards has inspired many hopes Democrats in search of fiery, presidential leaders. Though his political career has lasted only a short duration, Edwards previously spent years as a trial lawyer, and his life inspired the John Grisham novel The Rainmaker. Before passing the bar, some say Edwards stomped through North America and created the Great Lakes, once brewed the world's best beer, and invented the first radio. Legend also has it he designed all the album covers for Yes and lassoed the moon, all before his 25th birthday.

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There are a couple of different ways to go about getting yourself a new car. What most people do is they exploit the underclass until they've got enough greenbacks to roll up on Mr. Mercedes or Mr. Benz and slap one of them in the face with a stack of $100 bills. "Booya, bitch! Where's my wheels?" or however the classy blueblood expression of that sentiment comes out. This doesn't work so hot for the members of the exploited underclass, who lack the sufficient Benjamins to make for an impressive slap-stack, so most of them have to stick a gun in somebody's face to keep from having to take the bus to church on Sundays.

As for the rest of us, the poor suckers stuck in-between who are too cheap for caviar and too soft for prison, we have to get creative.

For a while I thought I might be able to screw The Man (or at least The Man's fine trophy wife) and increase the Omar Bricks Needs a Goddamned Car Fund by playing the stock market. Seemed easy enough, since it's basically just like a horse racing with companies, except you don't have to worry about any of the companies banging their funny bone on the starting gate and throwing the jockey into the stands when the buzzer goes off. I knew I never should have bet on a horse named "Buyer's Remorse."

Plus on the stock market they don't give the companies misleading names like "Jailbait" that make them sound really fast but then it turns out they're just not fully-grown. I've always thought the FCC should step in and require that they give the horses accurate names, like "Shithead," "Slow as Fuck" and "Money Pit." Some kind of truth-in-advertising type thing. I guess when they vow to protect consumers they don't include degenerate gambling consumers under that umbrella, the self-righteous pricks. Sure, the racing form's not going to look as cool when half the horses are named "Shitbird" and "Gonad," but that's a small price to pay not to have the horse you bet on get lapped in a one-lap race. It's especially rough on the kids when they shoot a horse before the race is even over. But what in the hell are little kids doing betting on horse races, anyway? They should be off betting on cartoons or some shit.

So playing the market sounded easy enough, at least compared to betting on horse races. That was like having a license to print IOUs. But any old idiot can predict what products are going to hit or flop, or at least that's what I thought before all my stock in the Swiss Piss powdered lemonade brand tanked. I'm just glad I didn't invest in those chocolate logs you float in the punch bowl for when you throw a party, those things didn't do very well at all. At least I got out from under Swiss Piss before the lawsuit hit.

I guess my broker truly lived up to his name, since I did end up broker than when I'd met him. But he said it was probably all for the best, since I didn't stand to earn much from only owning one share of stock. And that's what pissed me off, why even call it a "share" when you're going to reward some rich prick for gobbling up thousands of the things then and give me the shaft for only having one? That doesn't sound much like sharing to me, the greedy bastards.

But that was all water under the dyke when I realized that all I needed to get my car funds together was to hold a really bitchin' raffle. People go apeshit for a raffle, and it's better than the lottery because I don't get any money from the lottery. So a raffle was definitely in order.

I went down to the bus station to talk to my good friend and local raffle organizer Poontang Douglas, and we got the particulars in order. The tickets sold out fast when people heard the prize was something in a "mystery box." Raffle freaks love that shit.

What they didn't know, and this was the brilliant part of the plan, was that it turns out the prize in the box is a shitload of tickets to the raffle. That ought to keep 'em guessing, right?

Well, I don't know about you, but when I'm guessing I usually sit there and scratch my head a little, maybe look up at the ceiling or something, you know? I sure as hell don't set the bingo hall on fire. Goddamn degenerate gamblers.

Bricks out.

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Everyone I know is funny. Or at least they think they're funny. And I can understand that, 'cause I used to be real funny, too. And then everyone went and got so "politically correct" on me. Now I can't get a butt to crack a smile.

It probably started back in high school. I was a senior and about to graduate when all of a sudden people stopped laughing at my "plantation slave" character voice I did. It was real funny, too. I'd stick my lips out and say, "Yessuh, boss, suh!" whenever anybody asked me for anything. I'd be in class and the teacher would call on me and I'd do that and nobody would laugh, not one person. My dad and his buddies always cracked up when I did that, now nothing. One guy sort of cracked a smile and then went straight-faced again when no one else did. My teacher later said, "You know, that's very offensive." She told me no one talks like that and so it's offensive and I have to admit it's probably true because I never met a plantation slave. I think they ablemished slavery back in the '60s or something.

Well, that was fine, a gifted comedian like me has quite an arsenal of material to draw from. But then, one by one, all my great gags were taken from me.

My first week in college (okay, my only week in college) I got a lot of angry stares and boos whenever an Asian student would come into the room and I'd do my little "dunna dunna dun dun DUN dun dun" Chinese music. Sometimes an Asian would answer a question the teacher asked and say thank you and I'd squint and say, "Sank you velly much-ah!" Once again, nothing. One guy even called me something I won't repeat, since I don't like to work "blue."

All of this is crazy enough, but next thing I know, I can't even have fun at a baseball game. My favorite team, the Braves, are really kicking some butt against the other team and I start my war whooping yell and my "HI-yuh HI-yuh HI-yuh" dance and all the fans would shout me down. Well, all the fans of the other team would.

I guess it's not so bad, at least all my friends and family still think I'm hilarious, but it's just not the same. I knew things were bad when I went to the public library and a guy came in with a pink shirt. I started to sashay up and down the aisles, lisping loudly and making cat noises. Nothing, nada. The librarian asked me to leave, I mean, but nothing like laughter. It's like now white people don't have anything to laugh about. Before you know it you probably won't even be able to make fun of women, Arabs, and rednecks.

I guess I was born at the wrong time to be a big comedian. Everything's going to hell in society. Hell, even Jesse Helms is retiring now.

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