Bush Reveals New Shadow Government

March 4, 2002

Washington, DC

AP/Magazines

In the event of loss of your government, these six are now in charge: George Bush (Top-Left); Billie Jean King (Top-Right); Johnny Carson (Middle-Left); Hank Williams Jr. (Middle-Right); The Hulk (Bottom-Left); Abe Lincoln (Bottom-Right)

ollowing on the heels of Friday's revelation of the Bush plan for a "shadow government" to maintain continuity of power should the administration be incapacitated, the president revealed his six choices for the positions in the shadow government.

"It is important that individuals the nation trusts be available to lead us in the event we in the present administration are somehow incapacitated," said Bush, addressing reporters from an underground bunker somewhere he would not disclose. "I have chosen six individuals that I think will gladly answer the call to lead their country in that horrible, horrible occurrence."

Bush's choices ranged from the unexpected to the ridiculous, according the critics. Should the unthinkable happen and the entire executive branch of government be disabled for any reason, and presumably should Congress lose their acting capacity as well, Bush has handpicked a six-person group to share leadership duties of the country in retaliation and recovery.

The six-person team would consist of George Herbert Walker Bush, the president's father and 41st president of the United States; country recording superstar Hank Williams Jr.; former talk show host and television personality Johnny Carson; tennis great Billie Jean King; fictional comic book character The Hulk; and deceased 16th president Abraham Lincoln.

Many questions remain in the wake of the president's announcement. Among them: Is the shadow government constitutionally allowed? Can the president make arrangements without approval of Congress for such a plan? What is a comic book character doing among the selected appointees? Isn't Lincoln dead? Why Billie Jean King?

"I have not the time nor the resources to answer all these questions," snapped Bush, slapping a reporter from The Washington Post squarely across the face. "I'm the president and I know what's best for everyone. You hear? Everyone!"

According to insiders, Bush presented the list to administration officials on a scribbled piece of notebook paper with several other possible appointees crossed out, like Hugh Hefner and Rupert Murdock. Bush reportedly believes Abraham Lincoln is available for resuscitation at any time and the technology for that is quickly being developed. He also said The Hulk is real and he knows because he used to have a TV show. Administration officials also suspect Billie Jean King was chosen to balance out the male-heavy council, and she was the first woman the president could think of.

"I am happy with the president's choices," said Vice-President Dick Cheney. "I believe the possibility of our administration collapsing overnight, along with Congress and any other potential leaders, is a very real possibility and our president is safeguarding us against that. President Bush is wise and learned and not at all losing his mind."

Cheney made some strange gestures, circling his temple with a finger, and winking at reporters, before the president turned his head, when Cheney suddenly stopped.

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November 1, 2004

Absentee Ballots

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"If I had a dollar for every time I got a blow-job, I'd probably have the best job in the world."

Everybody remember to get out and vote on Tuesday. If you don't vote, you can't complain. At least not to the president himself. If fact, if you do vote, they still won't let you complain to him. They just escort you out and taser you in the alley out back. And don't try telling them you pay the president's taxes, that shit don't work more than once or twice.

I vote early. Really early. I fill out my absentee ballot as soon as I receive it in the mail. I'm a native of Mescalo, Puerto Rico, which is a Puerto Rican territory of the U.S. territory. But we still get a vote, so there, Dominican Republic. Since I don't live in Mescalo anymore, except on Thursdays, I make sure to get my vote sent off early. I check the ballot, but I know there's a lot of trouble with reading the ballot, so I write the name of the candidate I want to win several times, on the inside and outside of the envelope. No way I'm voting for Buchanan again, even by accident.

The worst part about voting by absentee ballot is, you don't get one of those stickers. How the hell are people supposed to know you're a good citizen and you voted and you can make them feel like shit for not voting if you mail in your ballot? I deserve to be patronizing, too. So I made my own sticker, from the Chiquita banana sticker I snagged, but it was too small and hard to read. So I had it tattooed on my back. It's not perfect either, since I have to walk around with my shirt off, and the local cops keep telling me they warned me about doing that. Plus, it's only right once every few years.

Another thing I like about tattoos is, they're conversation starters. Instead of getting the name of a girl tattooed on you, which no one ever believes, I just put a strange word somewhere. I tattooed the word "dog" on my forehead one time, 'cause I have this really funny story about a dog biting my fellas while I was trying to test him for rabies once. No one ever asked me about the story, so I had the tattoo removed in a really expensive surgery. I'm thinking maybe next time I might try "dog bites balls" or something, that might make them curious enough to ask.

So what I'm saying is, it's important to vote. Our grandfathers and grandmothers fought and died on battlefields all over this country just so white men could have the right to vote. And then they gave in and let everyone else have it. Never forget their sacrifice, 'cause they're all dead now and can't ever come back, unless they're ghosts. Exercise your right to vote. It doesn't matter who you vote for as long as you voteâ€”they don't even count those things anyway. The same dicks get into office no matter what. But vote, like I said, or the rest of us will make you feel bad.

Heh, heh. That reminds me about this dog storyâ€”ask me about it, I'll tell you next time.

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January 7, 2002

Airplane

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"I remember it just like it was yesterday, the summer that my brother Goose and I spent trying to build our own airplane. We had it on good authority that none other than the Great Gildersleeve himself would be making a public appearance in St Louis in a month's time, and we weren't about to consider the option of not being there. We begged mom and dad for weeks, but they failed to realize the importance of this event, or the relative insignificance of the 36-hour drive to St Louis. Perhaps if we'd had Stephanie on our side we could have turned the tides, but she was strictly a Fibber McGee girl and she distanced herself from the negotiations, most likely because she was angling for a new bike for her birthday. So it remained for Goose and I to find our own means of transportation to St Louis, and a homemade airplane sounded as good as any.

Our first prototype was a simple model consisting of an old mattress we found in the garage with a red racing stripe painted up the side. And it may have gotten the job done if it weren't for Goose, who was scared by a bee when we were hoisting it up onto the roof and let go of the mattress-plane early, which slid off the roof and into our neighbor's pool. Similar was the fate of prototype number two, an old garbage can tied to a pogo stick, which slid down the roof while Goose was climbing in and ended up putting a big dent in the hood of Dad's car. Goose caught pure hell for that mishap, and I had to join the 4H Club just to provide an alibi as to where I was that afternoon.

Goose thought we should go with one of his designs for our third prototype, and I humored him although I was doubtful because of Goose's well-documented lack of imagination. Prototype three ended up being a big cardboard box with a picture of an airplane taped to the side, and all I have to say about that is I'm glad Goose broke my fall. He's probably lucky he sprained his ankle as well since Mom was pretty steamed at Goose for cutting up the "A" volume of the family encyclopedias the way he did.

After that mom and dad both forbade us from attempting any more flights to St Louis, and we ended up having to listen to the Great Gildersleeve on the radio instead while Goose was propped up on icepacks. It probably would have been more fun to be there in person, but I imagine then we would have missed the fun that night when we heard that great crash outside and all ran out to find dad in the driveway amidst a mangled pile of homemade airplane parts."

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Quote of the Day

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores... uh, on second thought, scratch that. If I can pick, don't give me any losers.”

-Emily Dickinsome

Fortune 500 Cookie

Give up the ghost this weekâ€”everybody knows you're drawing those eyebrows on with a magic marker. You may only be a gigolo, but that doesn't mean anybody wants to hear you sing about it. Try naming a constellation after yourself: it worked for that "Chantilly Lace" guy. This week's lucky pets: salamander, ostrich, rutabaga, cow fetus, bottle of deadly germs.

Try again later.

Top Puns that Got You Shot

1.	"But waiter, you can't tune a sandwich!"
2.	"If you want to get married some time, give me a ring."
3.	"Arr, you think me cooking be impressive, you should see me pea soup!"
4.	"Come back, man, that's nacho cheese!"
5.	"I play bass for Big Dick and the Trojans, we're a rubber band."

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

BY Roland McShyster

5/12/2003

Time to stretch whatever you need to stretch, America, we're gearing up for the Summer Blockbuster season. Take your time, though, since nothing looks worse on a time-off request form than the term "pulled scrotum." Ouch. Once you're good and loose we'll warm up with a few of the opening salvos in this summer's "War Against Just Staying Home and Downloading MP3s All the Time," as the industry has dubbed it. Or as we like to call it here, "Operation: Rehash."

In Theaters

The Lizzie McGuire Movie

Leave it to Disney to put a happy-assed spin on anything, including the bitch who chop-sueyed her family with an axe and then wrote a song about it. Equal parts American Bandstand Psycho, Britney's Dance Barmitzfa and every Nickelodeon movie ever, the film is a singing, dancing, cute-boy-kissing good time that pauses briefly for ass-chopping parent slaughter mayhem between the mall shopping spree and a hilarious visit to Buckingham Palace. It's all in good fun, but I warn you that if this one does well, an animated Disney musical about the Holocaust is sure to follow. Scoff all you want, but I'd bet cash money they've got sketches of singing showerheads and songs like "Life's a Gas" waiting in the wings.

Owning Mahowny

Eventually you have to stop numbering Police Academy sequels since people are going to start thinking the title refers to the name of a submarine or something and get confused. So you have to applaud the producers of the series for heading that train-wreck off at the pass by naming Police Academyâ€¦ whatever number this is Owning Mahowny instead. Sure, the premise is some bullshit about an eligible-bachelor auction gone wrong, but at least they had the good sense to leave Steve Guttenberg in the deep freeze and instead tap pudgy white chameleon Philip "Feed Me Seymour" Dustin Hoffman for the role. The resulting movie still sucks, but it sucks in a different way than you'd expect.

The Real Cancun

Just when you think the girls have gone as wild as they're going to go, the big smut machine in the sky serves up another steaming helping of underage skank. The real question isn't when we as a culture are going to get enough of seeing the same drunk 17-year-old's well-traveled funbags. It's when are the religious weirdos going to run out of abortion clinics to bomb and have to turn their attention to Sony and Bicardi, the major contributors to this home video skankery? Unfortunately it won't happen any time soon, not while being opposed to anything disgusting is still considered unpatriotic. Instead, I predict 10 years from now we'll have a reality show about these loose co-eds trying to keep their fiancÃ©es from catching wind of the cock-soaked debauchery of their youth at their own bachelor parties. Now there's some potential for drama.

Whale Rider

Probably as topical as a movie can get, this tear-jerker revolves around one grieving family's battle to collect on their departed father's life insurance policy, even though he voided the thing by eclipsing the policy's gross tonnage ceiling as specified in the little-known "Whale Rider" of the title. A probing drama that asks important questions about where to draw the line between just really goddamned fat and legally culpable obesity. In the end, we learn that a person who's made themselves too fat to breathe is still a person, and love knows no gross tonnage ceiling.

X2: X-Men United

Even a cynical Hollywood insider such as myself dropped his Maxim when he heard they were doing the sequel to Spike Lee's Malcolm X as a comic book action movie. That takes some serious AC/DC-sized balls, my friends. Even Ben Kingsley's nasty turn in the controversial Gandhi sequel Sexy Beast pales in comparison to these robust cajones. Man. But in all fairness, when you think about it, the notion of racial justice being restored in America by a crew of ass-kicking circus freaks of confusingly mixed ancestry just seems like common sense. Sure, they made both magnet-assed Malcolm and his wheelchair-bound arch-nemesis Professor MLK a little too white in an attempt to sell them to suburban moviegoers, but if people are going to insist that skin color doesn't matter, then they really shouldn't complain when everybody in the movies is white. That's a little hypocritical when you think about it. Regardless, even with the unfortunate product tie-in angle of making Werewolf a pilot for United Airlines in his spare time, the film did kick a lot of ass-shaped racial injustice.

And that's the that we were here to deal with this week, Americanos. Now you've got only 14 short days to prepare yourself for your next dose of Entertainment Police, so get preparing! If you don't think that's enough time, well that's just tough. I used to accept reader requests to postpone the column in the past, if they were for a good reason, but it soon degraded to requests like "You suck!" and "Up your mother's ass!" so now we just stick to the strict biweekly schedule. Sorry a few rotten apples had to ruin the pie-pocket for everyone.