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President Bush Calls for A "Paranoid, Trigger-Happy America"October 1, 2001 |
Washington, DC Emilio Berternie/AP President Bush: Friggin' losing it
"Now, in this, our greatest moment," the President said Wednesday following the attacks, "it is important that our bloodlust reach critical levels. I'm so fucking angry I could shit a Buick. And I think all of America should follow suit."
Smoking a cigarette with an inch of ash still on the end, nervously loosening his tie and squinting through bloodshot eyes, the president promised swift and "all-out awesome" retaliation against "anybody; make that everybody. They're all going down this time."
"Some Americans have understandably tried to get on with their lives, to grieve for the victims and recapture some s...
rade Center and the Pentagon, President George "Nightmare" Bush has urged for Americans to unite and create a "paranoid, trigger-happy America."
"Now, in this, our greatest moment," the President said Wednesday following the attacks, "it is important that our bloodlust reach critical levels. I'm so fucking angry I could shit a Buick. And I think all of America should follow suit."
Smoking a cigarette with an inch of ash still on the end, nervously loosening his tie and squinting through bloodshot eyes, the president promised swift and "all-out awesome" retaliation against "anybody; make that everybody. They're all going down this time."
"Some Americans have understandably tried to get on with their lives, to grieve for the victims and recapture some sense of normalcy. I urge restraint in this matter at this time. This is not the time to calmly and logically turn to religion, family, or community. Now is the time to pissing apeshit."
Bush finished his press conference by throwing up his desk and punching out a window in the Oval office.
Later, around 4:30 a.m., the president stumbled out onto the lawn with a pistol in hand, firing blindly at the sky and screaming, "I'm right here! I'm right here, you fucking monsters! Come and get it! If you dare!"
A visibly shaken, tearful President Bush was then escorted by Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld back into the White House, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
President Bush continued to encourage the nation from a small, dimly-lit room in an unreleased location three days later.
"The high demand for guns, firearms, flags, and gas has been spectacular. The call has been made for quick, thoughtless action. For rage and violence. The American people, as always, have answered the call.
"What was that?" the president asked with wide eyes darting about the dank cellar. "Did you hear that?"
He then fired several shots into a nearby secret service agent who reportedly had a "weird glint in his eye." the commune News would like to take this opportunity to express our love for America by flying our Confederate flag at half-mast until further notice. Ivan "Scooter" Nacutchacokov is American as apple pie and has never even been to the Midwest, so you can stop with the dirty looks people.
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 November 4, 1999
Vase"Mom had this vase given to her in Great Aunt Mable's will and she loved it dearly. It sat on a wooden table in front of our picture window. I think it was from Japan. All I remember was the funny blue lines that decorated its pale, white surface. She told all of us kids never to touch that vase. I asked her if I could put things in it and she told me, 'Only on special occasions.'
Turns out finding three dozen night crawlers isn't a special...
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"Mom had this vase given to her in Great Aunt Mable's will and she loved it dearly. It sat on a wooden table in front of our picture window. I think it was from Japan. All I remember was the funny blue lines that decorated its pale, white surface. She told all of us kids never to touch that vase. I asked her if I could put things in it and she told me, 'Only on special occasions.'
Turns out finding three dozen night crawlers isn't a special occasion."º more columns
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|  October 14, 2002
Lee Gets a GEDIt's good to have things back to normal here, and please don't laugh when I say that like everyone else does. It just comes off as passive-aggressive.
We've all been a little shaken up by Lee's massive head trauma and following period of insanity where he thought himself a beloved children's book author, but things are settling down again since we held him down and held an "intervention of fists" as I like to call it. Lee soon came back to his senses, except for the minor oddity that he wants to get his GED now.
I told him he was fine as is, though in complete honesty jumping on the treadmill a few hours every week wouldn't kill him—now Camembert, hoo boy, that would kill him, yessir. Lee, however, has no interest in exercise, or hygiene, I'd guess, but does have an overwhelming desire to complete his formal education.
As near as I can figure, Lee dropped out in the fourth grade over accusations of retardism. It was a hard thing to deal with for a boy of his age, 15, and there was apparently nothing to back up such accusations, but kids and certain teachers and the janitorial staff can be cruel, as the expression grows. If I had been thought beneath my intellect, to my face, it certainly would have stifled my ambition to complete school. But not Lee! Well, yes, Lee, for a long time, anyway. But not forever!
Apparently this GED thing is the equivalent of a paper saying you finished high school, except I don't know why...
º Last Column: I Do Not Like Green Eggs and Ham
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It's good to have things back to normal here, and please don't laugh when I say that like everyone else does. It just comes off as passive-aggressive.
We've all been a little shaken up by Lee's massive head trauma and following period of insanity where he thought himself a beloved children's book author, but things are settling down again since we held him down and held an "intervention of fists" as I like to call it. Lee soon came back to his senses, except for the minor oddity that he wants to get his GED now.
I told him he was fine as is, though in complete honesty jumping on the treadmill a few hours every week wouldn't kill him—now Camembert, hoo boy, that would kill him, yessir. Lee, however, has no interest in exercise, or hygiene, I'd guess, but does have an overwhelming desire to complete his formal education.
As near as I can figure, Lee dropped out in the fourth grade over accusations of retardism. It was a hard thing to deal with for a boy of his age, 15, and there was apparently nothing to back up such accusations, but kids and certain teachers and the janitorial staff can be cruel, as the expression grows. If I had been thought beneath my intellect, to my face, it certainly would have stifled my ambition to complete school. But not Lee! Well, yes, Lee, for a long time, anyway. But not forever!
Apparently this GED thing is the equivalent of a paper saying you finished high school, except I don't know why anyone would go to high school in the first place if you could just do this. A lot of 8th graders I know would be jumping through hoops, like my Oscar party festivities, if they knew this was possible Four years of degradation and clique infighting and learning your place at the bottom of the social hierarchy can be prevented with a test a monkey could pass (I've held independent studies) and only a few are taking advantage of it? Without saying anything offensive, there would be fewer Columbines if this idea were promoted better. That's all I'm impulsively stating as fact.
From what I can gather, this GED test is just a series of questions about history and simple math and a lot of English, the language of England and abroad countries. If you come within a certain margin of correctness or make threatening eye contact with the test administrator, you pass. How easy! Not for me, perhaps, but for anyone who knows trivial details of information that American high school students know. Still, I guess if a test is too arbitrary and demands more than you're willing to give, you can always do it the old-fashioned way: Show up in classes once in a while in an American public school and create havoc until the apathetic teacher passes you to get you out of the educational system. I believe the president himself relied on this manner to get his degree.
Still, it's good for me that I started work so long ago my resume is long, and therefore difficult for employers to read. They skim the most recent job history and never noticed I only dabbled in professional schooling. I am smart, way smart, like Camembert tells me when I seek affirmation from him, but I lack the precise papers that declare it so. Who knows? Maybe I'll go back for my GED some day, when my self-worth has sunk so low I feel I need another person to validate my existence with a rubber stamp. Either that or I'll get a rubber stamp for Camembert.
Until then, Rok Finger gets by on street smarts: I know what street I live on, what street you take to get to the commune office, what street goes to Arvelyn's house for my nightly peeping, and what streets are known as "sidewalks" and can't be driven on. Some lessons in life you learn the hard way. º Last Column: I Do Not Like Green Eggs and Hamº more columns
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Quote of the Day“Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes! Or, if they're wearing sunglasses, just aim for the balls. Cocky shits.”
-General Dicky PrescottFortune 500 CookieThat noise outside your bushes? It's just me. Something important tomorrow, but I can't remember if it's "lottery" or "leprosy"… Don't forget to check under refrigerator; it's shrimp, that's what you're smelling. Lucky numbers 15 and Qwiddley-Two.
Try again later.Top Oprah Book Club Rejections| 1. | The Venomous Black Bitch by Phil Donahue | | 2. | Fried Pork Cracklin's in Butter by Flanny Fragg | | 3. | The Happy and Compliant Slave by Newt Whiteny | | 4. | How Stella Left Her Groove Under the Seat on the Plane Ride Back by Terry McMillan | | 5. | Fight Club by Jerry Springer | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY H.I. Standard 7/22/2002 The Bitcher in the CityIf I start telling you my story, it will be on my time. I'm not going to force it on you if you don't want to hear it, but if you're reading this still after all these typed words, you must want to hear it. Why? Do you think it's some sort of interesting tale or something? Don't make demands on me of what kind of story to tell. Asshole.
But since I'm writing anyway, I might as well tell you what happened to me when I left Truffaut Bible College in northern New York state. I had to leave, they were all a bunch of useless tools up there. I'm directionless, that what my parents and my guidance counselors say. But you know what I say? They're tools. A bunch of dumb fucking useless tools. And you are, too, big-ass useless reading-my-shit tool, you.
Plus, I had to...
If I start telling you my story, it will be on my time. I'm not going to force it on you if you don't want to hear it, but if you're reading this still after all these typed words, you must want to hear it. Why? Do you think it's some sort of interesting tale or something? Don't make demands on me of what kind of story to tell. Asshole.
But since I'm writing anyway, I might as well tell you what happened to me when I left Truffaut Bible College in northern New York state. I had to leave, they were all a bunch of useless tools up there. I'm directionless, that what my parents and my guidance counselors say. But you know what I say? They're tools. A bunch of dumb fucking useless tools. And you are, too, big-ass useless reading-my-shit tool, you.
Plus, I had to leave because I flunked out. And I burned my Bible. And it turns out my parents never really enrolled me there. That's just like those tools, to make me feel like I'm no good at school because they never enrolled me. My whole mixed-up life is their fault. I never asked to be born. At least I don't think I asked, and if I did I can't be held responsible, I was just a pre-born kid.
My useless-ass tool of a teacher, Mr. Pangloss, gave me $20 to catch a train or something back home to New York City, but instead of going directly home I sat in the bus station for a while. I watched all the freaks going by, thinking how awful their lives were and how they couldn't wait to get to their next stupid appointment. They were hideous sorts of people, ugly and smelling terrible, just like my old school jacket when I hadn't taken a shower after gym class. The smell followed me wherever I went throughout the city, as I bundled my old school jacket tighter around me to protect against the wind. 'Scuse me.
I finally left the bus station when it got to depressing. I didn't want to go home yet, but I was a little worried about what I was going to do in the middle of New York City with hardly anything to my name. After the train ride I only had $6 to last me until I got home again, that and my stupid old knapsack with my copy of Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass from school that I had never read, a change of shorts, a picture of my big brother Squirrel, and a dead flower of only symbolic significance. And my Visa card with a $10,000 credit limit, I suppose I could survive on that if I needed to.
I was kind of an outcast because I hated everybody in the school I went to, where I failed, where I was never really enrolled, and I had actually murdered one of my roommates before I left and they probably had found his body in the pale white snow on the outer grounds of the school by now. That was another reason I was reluctant to go stupid home, but it wasn't like it was my fault. I'm not the one who labeled myself a sociopath with homicidal tendencies in the child therapy sessions my parents made me go to.
In a way I wished I could go home. Like maybe if I had a laser of gigantic stupid constructive capability I could destroy the entire world except for the parts of it that I liked. Like the miniature foreign exchange student that lived with my parents before I went off to school. I liked her a lot, sincerely. And my brother Squirrel, he was a good guy, at least before he got married and became a bigshot sell-out "Texas Ranger," hunting down murderers like me and such nonsense. But everybody else I'd probably destroy if I could. Only if I had a laser. Sure, I could destroy everyone one by one like I did my roommate Kyle, crush their soft skulls with a surprise brick in the back of the head, but I'm the kind of person who would get half the world killed and then give up because it was too hard. So what's the stupid point?   |
