Ivan Nacutchacokov Reports from Afghanistan: "GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF AFGHANISTAN!"

earless commune drone and all-around lovable doofus Ivan Nacutchacokov was shipped off to Afghanistan in the wake of the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks, searching intently for news straight from the source in this hotly-watched speck of the globe. His first news arrives via short-wave radio: "Get me the fuck out of Afghanistan!"

"I'm not kidding in the least," said the fun-loving office cut-up. "It's extremely dangerous here. I've almost had my head blown off countless times. And the sweet sherpa Jimmy who escorted me here from the airport is now a pile of non-descript organic material."

Nacutchacokov, who described himself as wedged under a desk with a shotgun clutched to his chest like a suckling child, had no information on the whereabout of Osama bin Laden or top officials of the Taliban.

"I could give less than a shit," Nacutchacokov screamed in his consistent high-pitched whine. "If I had them here I could only carve them into some sort of bunker made of human bones and flesh, a shelter to hide inside. They mean nothing to me and I would gladly give up ever reporting on anything again to feel the safety of my own apartment in New Hampshire."

Also unknown to Nacutchacokov is whether or not the Al Qaeda, the organization believed responsible for the Sept. 11th attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, was planning retaliation for the recent U.S. wave of attacks. The Al Qaeda and its leader, Osama bin Laden, allegedly operate from within the country of Afghanistan.

"I don't know or care," Nacutchacokov said, firing two shotgun blasts for unidentified reasons. "I have one enemy: Red Bagel. Or whoever booked my flight over here and gave me this assignment. You know, next time I'll read my tickets to make sure they say 'Miami,' you sons of bitches. There is a warm place in hell reserved specifically for you, you gutless—"

Nacutchacokov's transmission was interrupted by a sound not unlike shelling from military planes, though the word, "castration" was audible over the din.

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Dear commune:

Just writing in to make you privy to the word, dudes. I just rocked the vote today by voting for that righteous fucker Red Bagel for State Assemblyman. True, I'm not exactly sure what a State Assemblyman is supposed to do, but whatever it is, I'm sure my man Bagel will do the fuck out of it. Whether it's putting shit together that the state needs, like futons and bookcases and all that, or if it's talking in front of a bunch of kids crammed together in a cafeteria, whatever kind of assembly it means I know Bagel's gonna tear it a new asshole, commune style. Shit yeah.

True, I hated assemblies myself when I was a kid, but that was mostly because there wasn't some nut up there talking about Vietnam and doing magic tricks and shit. That's some madness that would have been worth missing a smoke break for. And, come to think of it, I hate putting shit together too, so I'd probably make a pretty lousy Assemblyman myself. But if Bagel gets elected, I've got a coffee table still in the box out in my garage that I could use some help with. Don't even think about welching, dude. I got you elected!

Truth be told, if I'd had my druthers I probably would have voted for my homestyle, Omar Bricks, for State Assemblydude. But unless you wanted to vote for one of those gay-asses they had preprinted on the menu, you had to write in your choice, and I can never remember how many o's there are in Omar. Just in case there was some uptight dick out there named Oomar Bricks, I thought I'd play it safe and vote for the dude named after my breakfast.

Sucks, yeah, but that's politics. Peace Out.

Brian Delaney
Santa Monica, CA


Dear Brian:

Thanks for the word, dude. Red Bagel appreciates your vote and if he voted, we're sure he voted for you, too. And by that we mean that we're sure he didn't vote, since he's scared shitless of those optical scanning machines and the soul maps they can chart using your electromagnetic field, making it possible for the government to tax you again in your dreams.

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible, and the ladies find that irresistible. Don't blame us, it's apparently some kind of self-esteem issue.

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Hello, communes. Boris is this. Coming on you with big news of year: Big bee is dead. Yes, is so!

Every person remember big bee, is bee thing from Boris child's hood what always give Boris time so hard. Whenever Boris is does go outsides to play with made-up friends, there is big bee waiting to chase Boris away, like Benny's Hill show except without music. Boris has to hum music for himself when does run away from big bee. Sometimes Boris does think maybe bee does hate this music and that why chase Boris, but probably bee is just asshole.

All through life big bee does follow Boris. At home, on way to school, even on inside of classroom where Boris does is in trouble for bringing pet bee to school. Boris is kick out of schools so many time because big bee will not leave alone. Teacher say is so because mother does to wash Boris hair with honey, but this teacher's excuse for all things, like why all neighbor's hood dogs does follow Boris to lick head, and why come all flies does stick to Boris in summer's time.

Even when adult person, Boris can't not get job thing because no persons does want to hire Boris who is always running from bee and waving of arms. So, Boris does come to Americas. Does big bee follow? Yes. Stick with shit.

Big bee does have hard time to keep up with Boris on roading adventure with Angels from Hell and big fast bust, but eventually does find Potato Boris even though is secret identity. Bee is not fooled. Big bee even does follow Boris to New Olean. Coming back home to Louis apartment, Boris is thinking big bee get lost or maybe decide on follow person who does smell more like honey than Boris. But other day come huge surprise for Boris who does believe this idea.

Boris is sleeping sounds on Louis couch as outside is raining cats and water. Yes, yes, Boris is suppose to sleep in closet room, but after Louis is sleep, Boris does like to sneak out to couch so not to suffocate with sleeping Boris farts. And is all good and fun, but then Boris wake up to drip on head, like pee from God. Window is leak on Boris! Boris is mad, because before this Boris does like window. So, Boris have to pull out couch thing aways from window to sleep not in rain. This hard work, until Boris think to get off couch before moving. Then? Like lifting huge feather. No problemo, like say Louis friend speaking Spanishs.

But when Boris pull out couch, what is underbeneath? You can't not know this, so Boris will tell: big bee! Yes! First Boris is very scare and does poop so hard, but then Boris see big bee is sleeping. Boris does get napking blanket for big bee, but when putting on, does see big bee very dusty like rust bunny under couch. "Holy Moley!" Boris does think in Spanishs. Big bee is dead!

Is true, so dead like Jiminey Crickets. Boris does make special coffin thing from box for matches and sings special funeral song ("Fly Like Eagles into Furniture") before does flush bee down toilets to go to afterworld. And like that, Boris is free.

Is lonely to be free. Boris hoping to find moth or ladybug wants to follow Boris at all times. Is so too much work to tie with strings.

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