Bush Vows Attack on Librarians

resident Bush shocked and awed the nation's library employees this week with tough talk about a possible U.S. intervention into the current librarian situation. Apparently confused by developments in the African nation of Liberia, where a rebel insurrection has left the war-torn country in chaos, Bush vowed to use any and all means necessary to bring America's 20,000 librarians to justice.

These latest statements brought even more scrutiny upon the beleaguered CIA, an organization that has obviously shared precious little of its intelligence with the president during his term, and possibly since birth. Bush thrilled sports fans everywhere last week by passing the buck like John Elway on crack, blaming the CIA for failing to slap the stupid out of his mouth before he could make misleading statements regarding the Iraqi threat during his State of the Union address.

In response to the latest shit shower to hit the presidential fan, the White House also claimed that the wet-nurse organization had failed to prevent the president from making over 1,722 embarrassing statements since coming into office; 1,723 if you count the recent librarian gaffe.

"Anyone who's listened to the president speak, either publicly or privately, knows that the CIA has been shirking its duties to a perverse degree for quite some time now," stated White House spokesman Scott McClellan.

"More than any other recent president, Mr. Bush counts on the Central Intelligence Agency to make him sound intelligent," explained U.S. National Security Adviser Condoleezza Rice. "You don't hear anything about a Bureau of Acting Tough or the National Registry of Down-Homeisms, do you? That's because the president has those bases covered. And how. Mr. Bush does not, however, come from an intelligent background, and that's where the CIA is supposed to come in. These people are paid well to keep the president from using terms like 'fucking towelheads' or speaking with his mouth full of salami, and today it's clear they have dropped their duties like a greased bowling ball."

"I think I've got pretty darn good intelligence!" defended the president, speaking up from across the room while wiping barbecue sauce on his bib.

"The CIA definitely cleared the use of the term 'misunderestimated' in that speech the president gave last year, and 'uncontranationary' as well," McClellan detailed, reading from a list. "Likewise with 'learnworthy,' 'economal' and 'immigrater.' Plus any references to the nations of Urethra, Pillsboro and Spam, which do not exist. That was the CIA too. And when he said his favorite Beatles song is 'Lucy Is This Guy That I Know.' Total CIA all the way."

Regarding the president's baffling recent statements about the nation's librarians, Rice was outspoken in Bush's defense.

"The president did not knowingly say anything that we knew to be false, as he didn't know what he was saying. It is not the president's practice to speechify any falsic statement. All these countries and people with funny names, who can keep it straight? Intelligent people sometimes even have trouble," Rice elaborated, apparently with full CIA clearance.

"The president also didn't knowingly know anything he didn't know, and knowing what he knew didn't knowingly know any non-known knowledge," Seussifed Rice further. "Oh, and the CIA also cleared President Bush's impromptu recital of the tongue twister 'Pickled Peter's pecker poked a pooter' during his visit to Africa this month," Rice added on the fly.

Early reports indicate the nation's librarians, knowing Bush to be serious, have taken conservative spit valve Rush Limbaugh hostage in a pre-emptive strike.

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Dear Commune:

You have my phone number. You, the commune. You need to call the phone company and straighten this out. I've had the same phone number for 42 years and I'm NOT about to give it up. Thank you.

Agnes Knutson
Bromade, NJ


Dear Agnes:

We here at the commune are very sorry to hear that your life has become interesting in a way that makes you mildly uncomfortable. Obviously, we'll call the phone company right away and make sure they restore to you the number you've earned by staying in the same miserable place for your entire life. Pssssh! Right! You can stuff it up your ass with the nice old lady act, lady. We here at the commune pay our bills, biiiiatch, and if you see fit to bring your mess all up in our shit again you will be introduced to some mad hurtin'. Damn. Also, tell your withered old biddy friends to stop calling here, they keep kicking us off the Internet.

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for anything we got your kids to eat. Lengthy precedent has established that U.S. courts consider a triple dog dare to be legally binding.

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Over the course of my life, any time I've had a gripe about the way things were going or if I had things that I thought were unfair, my mom was always there to remind me that there are people out there who have it worse off than me. No matter what your problem is, there's always some poor S.O.B. out there whose wretched existence made yours look like a complimentary trip to a Bangkok whorehouse.

My mom's the undisputed master of this line of reasoning. No matter what happened when I was growing up, she always had some reason why I should be happy about it. Any time I took the guys to meet Mr. Bike Frame after riding my Huffy into a gopher hole or a curb or something, while I was on the ground in the fetal position, writhing in pain, she always reminded me that at least I didn't have spinal meningitis. I'm not kidding! Needless to say, that's not the kind of thing a guy wants to hear when he's just had his family jewels knocked back into his earlobes, so I spent a large portion of my childhood years sucking on a bar of Ivory soap.

But she never faltered. Your dog got hit by a car? That's a piece of cake compared to having cystic fibrosis. Pulled a 300 on the SATs? That'd make your day if you had hooks for hands. I don't know where she got half that shit. Every once in a while I'd catch her blatantly making something up, like the time in Jr. High when I got kicked in the nuts by a mule and she told me it was better than having Herkemer's Syndrome. I asked her what the hell that was and she just muttered something vague about having your bones itch and said I didn't want to know the details.

To be perfectly honest, I never really appreciated my mother's philosophy when I was growing up; actually I thought she was sick in the head. But now that I'm older I'm really starting to understand where she was coming from. It's taken me a long time to find my purpose in life, but now I think I've really found it. I'm here to remind people that no matter what kind of foul shit is going down in their own lives, hey, at least their last name isn't Fagerbakke.

You don't even have to know a thing about be, beyond my name, to know that I didn't have an easy time of it growing up. All my life, I've been like some kind of nickname magnet. You can try to surprise me with something new, but I'd advise you to save your breath, I promise I've heard them all: Froggerhockey, Fan-of-Balki, Faggotbacon, Fag-bot, Fuckerbacker, Fingerbecky, Shag-her-buddy, Fizzledick, Dr. Lousy Lay, Sir Fucksafreshman, Tommy Hatesajew, Dildo on Wheels, The Cunnilinguist, Tom the Racist Wonder, Tommy Comesponge, Mr. Nazi-cock, Tommy Two-Minutes, Tommy Knockmeup, The Back-door Bandit, Tom Thumbs-a-stranger, Tommy Inchworm… the list goes on and on. I'm sure I'm forgetting some good ones, too, you can email my mom if you want the complete list.

The point is, I got stuck with the Spruce Goose of bad last names. And for a long time I thought that was a curse, you know? But now I realize it's a blessing. Just like how Superman got super-powers and used them to help out humanity when it got in a pinch, Tom Fagerbakke got a super-shitty last name and he's going to use it to raise humanity's spirits. No matter who's pissing on your parade or what kind of crap life is trying to pull, all you have to do is stop and reflect on the fact that your last name isn't Fagerbakke, and that kind of puts it all in perspective. Sure, maybe your wife left you for your boss and your mom joined a cult and your son just got into Weird Al Yankovic, but you know, at least you're still doing pretty good in the last name department. So maybe everything isn't as bad as it seems, right? Feel better?

No need to thank me, it's the work I was born to do.

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