U.S. Suspects Double is Standing in for Hussein

March 31, 2003

Washington, DC

JUNIOR BACON & ZENIT

Possible dictator brother Elmo Hussein, reading a grocery list in front of Iraqâ€™s finest shower curtains

.S. intelligence experts have raised questions as to the authenticity of a videotaped speech featuring Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein, which aired on Iraqi television only hours after missile attacks aimed at killing the dictator rocked a suburban Baghdad neighborhood. Iraqi officials point to the tape as proof that Hussein was not killed by the thousands of pounds of explosives that had been satellite-locked on his individual navel hairs in the attack, contrary to U.S. and British claims.

Intelligence analysts suggest that the man appearing as Saddam is actually Husseinâ€™s double, a look-alike decoy known to be used by the dictator for certain unsavory public appearances and on particularly bad hair days. Off the record, at least one high-ranking U.S. intelligence intern beli...

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December 22, 2003

No Need to Check That List Twice

º Last Column: The Straw that Broke the Camel's Back
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Well, I'll give you three guesses as to what Omar Bricks wants for Christmas this year, with the added bonus that I get to kick you in the ass if you're wrong. Because that means you're either stupid or haven't been reading my column for the last eight months. And even if you're just trying to be funny by saying shit like "a boob job" or "world peace," come on man, I'm giving you three guesses here.

It should come as no surprise to those of you out there who respond to external stimuli that a new car is way at the top of the Omar Bricks wish list this holiday season. Yes, even higher than a gas-powered man kite or a money-winning horse like that Seabiscuit. Sweet as those both would be, and even sweeter in combination, a new car has to be Christmas Priority #1. Besides, I didn't get either of those other things last year and I prefer to maintain exclusivity when it comes to the gifts I request: If you didn't get me what I wanted last year, you missed your chance, Bud. Sucks to be you, but I have my pride to consider.

So this year it's all about the car. And possibly car-themed accessories like a ball-ratting stereo system or some stylish naugahyde seat covers. Or some skiis. Basically, if it fits in the car somehow, I'll take it.

But the main part of the present had better be a car, because if end up with a shitload of fuzzy dice and hula girl statues and crap with no car to put them in, I'm pretty sure I'll be pissed. The smart money's on some Bricks rage in that scenario. Not to be an ungrateful giftee or anything, but come on. That's just bullshit. Half that crap has no use outside of an automobile, unless I take a sewing class so I can turn a set of naugahyde seat covers into some kind of bizarre Buffalo Bill couch cover or some disturbing shit like that. And then I'd need to redo the whole house with a Silence of the Lambs theme just to make the couch match, which sounds like a lot of work and a waste of all the carnival mirrors I bought last week.

And just so I can cover all my bases this year, let me make it clear that I consider the gag gifting of any kind of little matchbox or other toy car to be grounds for serious retaliation, as that shit's neither funny nor useful, and that's seventy-five cents you could have put toward some very small fraction of a car I could actually drive. Use your brains here, people: pool your resources. Hold a walkathon or something, I don't give a shit. I'll even submit a decent photo to have printed up on the t-shirts, that's how far I'm willing to go to make this happen. I don't imagine there are many charitable mugs out there who could look at a picture of Omar Bricks throwing eggs at the president and deny that this man needs a car. Me, not the president. I'm not sure if the president owns his own car or not, but he seems to get around okay. You never see him pushing a little kid off his bike when he's late to work in the morning, that's all I'm saying.

As for what kind of car, be creative. Unless your idea of "creative" means cheap and shitty, in that case don't be creative. Forget I said that. Think of it as if you were buying yourself a car, only imagine that you like yourself more than you do, and money's no object. That should work. And if you like Volvos, fuck off. You shouldn't be involved in this process at all; I don't want you skewing my car gift with your bad taste and questionable judgment.

You can get me a radar detector or something. Pretty hard to fuck that up. Thanks.

Bricks out.

º Last Column: The Straw that Broke the Camel's Back
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February 17, 2003

Sister, Can You Spare a Dime?

º Last Column: I Have a Lazy E-Mailman
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So I needed some start-up capital, right? Since they shut my lights off and won't start them back up until they get a check.

I thought about going to my parents, then I remembered they have no money and would make me do chores or something for it even if they did. I thought about asking Acting-Editor Ramrod Hurley, but that dildo doesn't have access to anything at the commune, even Red Bagel's private stock of Tab is locked in the fridge and he has no combination. I thought about asking someone at the commune for the money, but they'd probably make me do chores, too, and I have an idea what kind of chores Ramon Nootles needs done.

Which left me to ask my sister. I mean, I could ask my brother, in fact I did, but he could only loan me the amount in crystals and I already tried to pay the bill with that. I needed real cash money or credit, and the only person I know is my sister. For those who need the background, my sister is the family outsider, Harvard Law grad, private law practice, does a lot of ACLU work, occasionally puts out a book or something. She's got the critics and liberals fooled, but we all know she's kind of an idiot.

I went to see her at her office and it was worse than I thoughtâ€”all this big talk of success was just a sham, the place is a real dump. Her law office is all the way up on the 30th floor and she shares it with a bunch of other lawyers, though her name is first, good deal there, I'm really impressed. It's so embarrassing I felt bad for her, no one will even share an office with her. She's in this huge place all by herself, even her secretary must have weaseled a place outside to avoid it. I can't blame her, we shared a room when I was a kid and I know she snoresâ€”it would be impossible to catch an afternoon nap with someone who sounds like a motorboat.

She was happy to see me, she asked if I needed work again, but everything was cool since I have the new sitcom in pre-production. She can be cool at timesâ€”back when she was doing better and I was on hard times she gave me a job playing Lady MacBeth in her backyard. There were no other actors to act with, and no stage and I had to make the costume, but I got paid pretty well and it was a sweet gig. Sure, I didn't know anything about MacBeth or his Lady, but I substituted the dialogue from a Facts of Life episode and she couldn't tell the difference. She was on the phone most of the time anyway during the show, which I usually hate.

Soon enough I got to the part about asking for money and Addie just nodded and wrote me a check from her big fat checkbook. I told her I'd pay her back, and she said I could pay her back whenever I could. Well, of course, then I said I might not be able to pay it back and she said that was no big deal. I told her I could work it off, but she said she's already seen MacBeth. So we're still kind of in negotiations, I might do some Antony and Cleopatra stuff maybe, if I can get that Who's the Boss? script.

Then, before she took me to lunch, she said, "You know, Clarissa, I was so jealous of you growing up. Mom and dad used to dote over you all the time and say they wished I was as pretty as you and had a job in TV. But then when the acting work dried up and you found it hard to get a job, and I had all my college and developed my skills and everything worked out for me, I realized I was lucky, in the long term. I had the better deal from it all."

Sure, whatever. I nodded and smiled and pretended to think it was not funny, but mostly I was just thinking we should eat some place with ribs. I hope now she doesn't want the money back since I basically worked it off being all like her psychiatrist and stuff.

º Last Column: I Have a Lazy E-Mailman
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Milestones

1931: Former commune columnist Sampson L. Hartwig forfeits another "Race Around the World" when it is discovered that he merely hid in a barn for three days, then took a taxi in from the opposite side of town, claiming victory.

Now Hiring

Compulsive Ass-Kisser. Shameless suck-up needed to boost general staff morale and cut down on work days lost to crippling depression. Total lack of discernment required. Insane "Never met a man I didn't like" attitude a plus.

Top Other Inventions by the Crash Test Dummy Creator

1.	Self-ejecting canned corn
2.	5-string bass
3.	Hot HandsÂ®, the cheapest, safest, easiest way to light your hands on fire
4.	Crash Test Dummy Secret Base Playset (Figures sold separately)
5.	Freshomatic, battery-powered freshness-testing meter

North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

BY Roland McShyster

1/1/2000

Hey troops, welcome back to Entertainment Police! Sorry for the gap in my columns, but apparently DUI stands for Don't Underestimate Interpol! Goodness me, well needless to say it's great to get back onto Yankee soil and back to the hunt for worthwhile Entertainment. A lot's happened since our last EP: the Oscars, the Golden Globes, the Peabody... and somebody told me Carmen Electra got married! Bless her heart. I asked around, but nobody seems to think Harry Connick Jr was the lucky guy... poor Harry. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. It's useless to dwell on the disappointments and massive cocaine busts of our past though, so let's get on with the show!

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