Schwarzenegger Wants $99.1 Billion for Next Movie

merica's beloved Hitler Youth Arnold Schwarzenegger stunned the largely-Jewish world of Hollywood Friday with the announcement he would be asking an astounding $99.1 billion price tag for his next film. Schwarzenegger, whose last film Terminator 3 made a worldwide total of $366 million, would become the highest paid actor in Hollywood and the richest person to ever breathe on the planet.

The large tub of muscle defended his announcement, which followed an earlier press conference declaring a 2004 budget of $99.1 billion for the state of California. Schwarzenegger's new film price tag would not only guarantee the appearance of the actor in the movie, but help dig the state of California out of debt. As a bonus, the governor promised a red-tape free unlimited filming permit for the studio's film crew and the use of every Californian and his or her home for production purposes.

"It is a great deal, to think of it," said the actor, mangling the language in his usual adorable style. "To hire Arnold Schwarzenegger is to hire California. To put in a film the beautiful beaches of the state, and to film everywhere from Simi Valley to Silicon Valley. And other Valleys. Arnold Schwarzenegger is pulling together for California, and as your governor Arnold Schwarzenegger asks for every Californian to pull together for California."

The projected 2004 budget of $99.1 billion would cut millions from public health and welfare programs without raising taxes, would raise state park fees and college tuition across the state, and is built on a prediction of a gain of $2.9 billion in imaginary tax revenue. Presumably, the prospect of making California more friendly to producers who want to make a really expensive Schwarzenegger movie would create a major influx of tax money.

Besides being ridiculed as financial hari kari, Schwarzenegger's new price tag is being criticized for forcing Californians to open their homes, as well as public and private lands, to Hollywood film crews, and requiring all Californians to appear in at least one scene in a non-speaking role in the film as part of the agreement to justify the actor's high paycheck. The governor, smiling with his frightening shark teeth, dismissed the critics.

"There are people who do not want to do what is necessary to clean up the mess of all the politicians who made the mess of California. It is hard to understand what their problem is. I am the one doing all of the hardwork. I have thirty, maybe forty lines of dialogue per film. I will have to speak them. I will be the one having to make the hard faces. All the rest of the people can just stand there in the background and be quiet."

Schwarzenegger added, "Plus, I will be doing all of my own stunts. No stunt men required. Come and see the new movie to see Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger doing the dangerous stunts. I will fight the robots or all the men in costumes. I will even pretend at being gay, for comedy film. Come to see the Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger in the comedy movie to make you laugh. And help California."

The governor personally guaranteed the film would earn back all money invested, help clear California's $14 billion deficit, and launch a successful movie franchise. If the plan is successful, Schwarzenegger said he would consider doing more independent films at a fee of $3 billion each in hopes of starting a re-election fund.

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I've not had any luck finding much information about myself online. Ever since www.heresyourdaddy.com went defunct and website operator kittyfan became unreachable, the web has become a very barren place for Clarissa Coleman information. Sure, I can find some Who's Your Daddy episode guide information on some lame websites, but none of them have ever kept current information about yours truly and a lot of them continue to spread that vicious urban legend that I was killed by Son of Sam, even though his murder spree was about 3 or 4 years before our show even came on. Believe it or not, I haven't even found anything on the commune, so if you're reading this it's by fate or luck or the grace of God or you surely must be part of some marketing audience or something.

I got desperate enough for some word, any word of me online that I did a search for "clarissa coleman nude" and, with baited breath, awaited the search results. You believe nothing?!? I mean, come on! It's not like I ever posed for any nude photographs or anything, but aren't there legions of internet weirdoes out there cutting and pasting heads onto bodies just for larks or fetish purposes? I swear I went to one site and saw the head of Benji on Charlize Theron's topless body. Don't I rate like Benji?

I would say I have fairly realistic goals. I'm not trying to compete with Alyssa Milano, I know she's the queen of nude internet searches, and I let her have that. I'm not asking to challenge anybody's spot, but isn't there one person out there putting my head on some Playboy playmate body or something?

I even went to some rare spots like www.seemyexgirlfriendnaked.net to see if a former flame was looking to score revenge against me for all the wrongs I did. Nada! It's like none of my fans want to see me naked bad enough to cut and paste my head into some badly-lit shot. I get e-mail all the time telling me I should cum and see Britney's secret blow-job video. I'm not asking for some blow-job video, I'm just talking a tasteful little topless number of some kind. It doesn't have to match. Hell, it doesn't even have to be pasted, take some girl who kind of looks like me and tell everybody it's me. She could be Asian even, as long as somebody made the effort.

Nothing says you're off Hollywood radar when there's nobody trying to fake your nudity on the web. That's how you know Martha Raye and Phyllis Diller are hopelessly past their prime. I think I even saw a site with faked Dionne Warwick nude pics. At least I hope they were fake. Brrr! That's gonna keep me up tonight.

It's true, it's not impossible to see me naked. There's a little bit of nudity in that B-movie Orgasma on the Moon I did, and there may still be copies of my butt circulating from that Christmas party at NBC a couple years ago. Hell, stumble into my apartment at the wrong time of the night and you can catch me wearing nothing but my sunglasses and Jiffy Pop-style disco hat—not that I'm inviting any of you freaky fans to do that. Oh, hell, yeah, I'm inviting you to do that. Just once, just so I know you're out there.

You can tell it's starting to bother me just a bit, meaning a whole hell of a lot. I'm a pretty former child star and I've got a body like a brick tithouse so somebody out there should be fabricating images of me, even if just for their personal enjoyment. If I don't start seeing some evidence of that soon I may take it upon myself to launch my own website. I'll get my friend Ernie, the web-genius (he manages the very popular Dancing Bob Saget site) to help me with the HTML and Photoshop a few pics for me. Right now I'm leaning toward Halle Berry's body, but the only photos I could find of her show her humping Sling Blade. I'm not sure that's the kind of image I want to project, but hey, I'm open-minded.

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Things better change quick around the Coleman house or there's going to be a homicide or two. I'm throwing down the gauntlet by this weekend, someone and all their friends and family have to get out or I'm calling the cops. Not me, of course, I'm not getting out, I pay rent at the place. Every few months at least.

You might be able to guess from that my dad is back from Mexico. He didn't like the natives, he was worried about the crime, and couldn't drink the water. I told him, "Dad, you were in New Mexico. If you couldn't make it there how did you expect to last out in the real one?" But he just turned up his Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock and pretended he couldn't hear me.

Like mom, who's been staying with me even longer, I can tolerate dad. He's family. But he had to bring that dildo Freddie Mercury with him, and both of them are friends now with some bounty hunter named Icepick. The guy was all set to bust both of them and turn them over for the reward when dad and Freddie Mercury made him a member of the gang. Most people you couldn't pay to make a gangmember with my dad and that clod, but Icepick was more than willing to give up $60 for it. Someone even lower on the totem pole than Freddie Mercury is now an accomplice, that's good news.

What really pisses me off is they can't even give me the courtesy of asking or anything. They just show up and say they need a place to hide and move right in. I don't have an ammo room, dad, I can't store all your shit. You dicks are going to have to sleep on the floor.

No mention of when they're going to leave or anything. And don't bring it up to him, he gets all indignant and everything. The way he sees it, he put me up for 12 years, it's time for me to pay back the favor. It better not come to 12 years 'cause I'm not going to last that long. The idea of me even being 37 is severely unsettling.

At least there's always food around. Mom gets lazy when dad's in jail or out of the country or what, but as soon as he steps back into the place the oven goes on and the dishes come rolling out like it's the kitchen at KFC. I haven't eaten this well since rehab, but nothing can make it worth sharing a place with these morons. If I come home and find the rodeo on TV again when I was geared up to watch Gilmore Girls I'm going to show those guys a 101st way to kill a man.

Don't get me wrong: I love my dad, to the full extent the law requires. I don't want him to go to jail or anything, that even works against my intention of getting mom the hell out of my place. But this group package bullshit has got to stop. Freddie Mercury is always talking about knocking down a wall and annexing a neighbor's apartment, and if he does it I'll probably get kicked out. And Icepick has rigged my fridge with a detonation device so I can't even get any booze to make me forget they're here. All this will have to change soon or I'm going to do something I'll moderately regret.

I'm desperate enough at this point to ask my sister to take them in, but once I mentioned the problem once on the phone she changed her number. I might go down to her office at the law firm tomorrow and plead with her to take them off my hands, but I wouldn't be surprised if the whole law firm uprooted and changed addresses. She takes family emergencies pretty seriously, or avoiding them.

What does all this mean? It means I'm stuck with an apartment full of family and A-Team rejects until I find the tactful, forceful, "let's-not-do-anything-crazy-here-like-set-that-napalm-off" way out.

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