'Affirmative Action Policy Unfair,' Says Rich, Dumb, White President

ich, dumb, white president George W. Bush, the "W" possibly standing for "Whitey," took the opportunity on Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday Wednesday to show where he stood on civil rights by denouncing the University of Michigan's affirmative action admissions policy.

It comes as a real shock to a handful of people who buy entirely into presidential soundbytes and vote-grabbing. The Bush administration has attempted to court minorities with promises of real changes in civil rights, though perhaps Bush intended the change to be a step backward and just purposely omitted saying what kind of change he was talking about.

Plaintiffs, also exceedingly white people from mostly non-impoverished families, have filed a lawsuit against the University of Michigan because they were not admitted to the school while members of minority groups were admitted, with possibly lower scores in some cases. University of Michigan policy allows for a points-based system that allows ethnic diversity as a deciding factor for admissions, and, in short, they had more white people than they could use, which is often the case with white people.

In a petition supporting the plaintiffs' case against U of M, Bush, with the help of many white White House staff people, wrote, "At their core the Michigan policies amount to a quota system that unfairly rewards or penalizes prospective students based solely on their race," the president said. Basically, the fact they are minorities is an unfair advantage to them, wrote the rich son of an ex-president.

Later, to a White House press group, Bush continued, "It's the American way for people to overcome diversity, ain't it? That's what I'm trying to do here."

When Bush was told he sounded like an asshole by aides, he amended his statements later.

"What I meaned to have said, is that overcoming obstacles and stuff is real hard. And getting into college is real hard. Ethnic people of all races should have to overcome their own obstacles to get in and not get in because of they races—be they black, white, brown, or Arabs. It's unfair to let people in because of they skin color. This policy of racist-based admission provides an unfair 'vantage to non-white people, and I cannot abide that. I guarantee you if this policy was in place where I went to school, I would not have gotten in."

Spokespeople for the University of Michigan agreed: "It's true. Bush never would have gotten in here."

Many congressman, also rich and white, have opposed Bush's stance on affirmative action. Besides Democratic presidential hopefuls for 2004, a handful of Republican senators pleaded with Bush via letter before the announcement to resist supporting the plaintiffs. The decision, they said, would do harm to the system of higher education.

It is believed the president received the letter before issuing his petition, but aides say he may not have read it since it looked really long and used a number of words that he didn't want to have to look up.

Following on Trent Lott's pro-segregationist remarks in December and his thousands of failed apologies in its wake, the move could do a lot to damage the "compassionate conservatism" agenda by the Republican party to embrace minorities while still keeping them at arm's length.

According to some within the GOP, Bush must quickly again issue pro-unity words as quickly as possible to reaffirm that position, and preferably before taxes are again raised on the working classes.

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Let there be no mistake: I love my new wife, Felchyana, but she's starting to get on my nerves. Being a veteran of two marriages and three wars you'd think I might be familiar with this growing feeling of spite I'm experiencing, but it's not the case. She must be one of these "modern women" I keep seeing represented on sitcoms and the like. I can't say I approve, good people.

I finally got the chance to take us away on a honeymoon. You may recall the expense of the wedding and bail for bachelor party attendees left me a little strapped for cash. Tied down screaming to a medieval wooden rack, actually. But fate intervened, and after correctly guessing the number of jellybeans in the jar at Red Bagel's annual commune picnic I achieved a great windfall. It was apparently the loudest windfall ever since I won some sort of contest three states away, and the prize money was enough to take my blushing new bride off on an extravagant honeymoon.

You would think that enough for any woman, right? Wrong! Not for Felchyana. We had a quarrel over where to go on our honeymoon, the first argument we've ever had. If you discount all her attempts to get out of the wedding. I wanted us to see beautiful Niagra Falls, even though I don't approve of the racial epithet in their name. Felchyana wanted us to visit Leavenworth Penitentiary, judging by her frantic pointing to the picture in the paper. Well, you can see this is an almost insurmountable difference of opinion, but we decided to compromise. I locked her up inside the apartment and went to Alabama.

It was quite a wonderful tour through primitive culture, good people. After hearing our beloved Editor describe it with such vivid detail I was anxious to see what it was like and see all the great tourist spots—the world's smallest library, the place Red Bagel slept, so on.

Imagine my surprise to return home and see it had been taken over by the Russian mob! Well, okay, it wasn't that big a surprise. But it was quite a shock to see Felchyana apparently involved in some manner. There were four or five large men surrounding her, the shortest of which said his name was Yogi and persistently called me "dude." He instructed me that he was Felchyana's cousin and would be taking care of her while she was in the states. He said he was happy I had married into the family seeing as I was such a man of means—I would say the throw pillows worked in making the apartment look a lot more upscale. He also warned me that if I hurt her in any way he would break my legs into splinters, if he could find them. He found that addition particularly funny.

So, like the hired hand who agreed to clean up the rhinoceros cage, I'm in much deeper than I ever imagined. Felchyana has been strutting around the apartment like she owns the place lately, ever since those mob fellows gave me their friendly warning. She even cries less than she did after we were just married. Chalk it up to falling into routine, maybe she's even happier with things this way, but it feels like the spark is gone.

Not that I'm giving up. You know me, good people, I'm in it for the long haul—thirty years or death, whatever comes first. And there's a certain amount of truth in that old wives' tale about people being different from each other. Felchyana is no Arvelyn, that's for sure, but obviously I wasn't happy with Arvelyn's attempts to kill me and backstabbing bed-jumping. So maybe everything will work out for the best. It will require a little bit of change on my part, like not locking my wife in our home when I leave at any time, but if other people can learn to do it, so can I.

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Say hello to the biggest new name in pornography. Seriously, my name is BRUCE CHEEKS and I make them spell it all in caps, so it's about twice as big as most porn credits.

I stumbled onto the whole thing. That's how most people get into porn, I hear. I was in the sauna one day, which is my favorite way to start a story, and I happened to drop my towel, six or seven times. I got quite a big response, but the security guard said I could stay there if I wanted to. One guy came up to me after I was dressed and complimented me on my "curious physique." He asked me if anybody had ever told me I have an amazingly deep ass crack. Which I already knew. You can check page 105 in Guinness if you don't believe me.

As luck would have it, this guy makes amateur porn films. Very amateur, according to some reviews in Hustler he showed me. But he told me he could really put an ass crack like mine to use. I was about to punch him, but then he said I would be doing it with a woman in the scene. And if that worked out, maybe two women. I was like, are you kidding me? I would do that job for free. Then he told me I would have to because he would really have to pay the two ladies I would be with extra. "Combat pay," he called it.

Cut to a few days later, and the shortest scene ever in a porn movie, and I was a full-fledged porn star. Paul, the director/Pizza Boy #3, screened it for his friends and they were amazed. One of them, D-Boy, said I had an ass crack that could swallow the world. It was the first time I've ever been acknowledged for anything in my life, so I was pretty happy. Even though they screwed up my credit at the end and called my character "She-Male." Like He-Man, but not the same. I blame my excellent breasts.

Even though a few of the guys puked a lot, I think it's the first step toward a huge porn career. It's perfect for me, because I like to have sex and never get the chance to. And I also need money because no one will hire me for anything. It's like I get to have my cake and have sex with it, too.

It's going to take some scheming on my part. I made a copy of my movie—I had to give it a title, since Paul never did that. I called it Fucked My Balls Off. I didn't want to call it the first title I thought of, Me Having Sex With Two Chicks at the Same Time, because I was planning on leaving it on a shelf at Blockbuster, and people wouldn't know "Me" was referring to me. Until they watch it, which they will. I made a case and everything. I put my ass crack right on the case so people will know what the main attraction is. In the video, I don't want to ruin it for you, but manage to fit one lady's whole leg inside. It's something you won't forget.

I think this will open up doors like I've never even imagined. Porn, lie down and surrender now, because you're about to get conquered by the biggest ass in the world.

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