he so-called 'Axis of Evil,' which now has more points than a pinwheel, took on another member when the forgettable South American country of Venezuela added itself to the roster of anti-U.S. countries this week. The announcement was made in the most awkward fashion, when President Victor Chavez made allegations that the United States has made plans to invade Venezuela soon. How soon? Chavez didn't pinpoint a date, but said the invasion would happen imminently.

According to Chavez, the U.S. has been planning to invade his country for some time, and he has proof, although he didn't exactly present it to anybody. The most precise allegation made by Chavez cited "invasion training maneuvers" being made in his country by CIA operatives, who apparently weren't in Venezuela for one of their thousands of monthly beauty pageants.

"The U.S. wants our oil," said Chavez, not to be confused with the famed union leader beloved by Steinbeck fans and folksingers alike. "They are planning to invade Venezuela to get it. But they will not have it. And if they carry out their plan of invasion, they will be in for a hundred-year war they cannot win." Apparently there's a huge population of homegrown Navy SEALs in Venezuela that haven't been widely publicized.

Chavez appeared on Larry King, home of the mouth of the infidels, to warn the U.S. government not to fuck around with the big boys.

"We are as giants to the United States as you are but ants to normal people. Understand? Perhaps the translation is not so perfect… we are the giants, at giant size, while you are ant size. Get it? You are not normal human size. So we are, you can see, immensely bigger than you. Not in country size or population, resources or world renown. But fighting spirit! This is where we are huge."

The president (of our little shithole) responded Friday to Chavez's Larry King comments: "I will say Mr. Chavez does have immense balls. The rest of it remains to be determined."

While most of the administration shrugged and tried not to smirk at the angry Venezuelan's accusations, a certain White House insider called Vito, and whose real name is revealed on www.confidentialsourcesruined.com, attempted to shed some light on the U.S.-Venezuela position in the current administration.

"The president can't even say Venezuela," confided Vito. "I don't think he ever got past the 48 continental states in his geography classes. He occasionally points to the maps and says, 'What's with the other America? Who's copying us?' But this isn't just about insulting the president; it's about pointing out, once and for all, that when it comes to Venezuela, or for that matter any South American country, the White House position is to truly not give a shit."

While Chavez accused the Bush administration of seeking an invasion for Venezuela's rich oil reserves, our man Vito discounted that as unlikely horseshit.

"I'm not sure where Mr. Chavez gets his confidential information on U.S. foreign policy, but he should go back to the guy and beat the piss outta him. Does he seriously believe Venezuela is next on the list for U.S. invasion? Please! I mean… does he really have the list? Not even the top 10. We've got Korea, Syria, Iran, Pakistan… New Zealand, but that's a surprise, so don't tell anyone. Lord of the Rings raised their profile. But Venezuela? Please. All in good time, amigos. We've got bigger fish to fry first."

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I think I finally found my niche in the world. I was watching those VH-1 shows about the '80s and the '70s and all these people talking about cool things. It's the kind of show you watch and you say, "I remember that!" But not me. I had to sell my memories in 1990 or they were going to repossess my apartment, with me in it. The guys who bought them left me the memories of my mom and dad and family, they said those had no resale value, but I can't really remember much of anything else. Which is a shame, because everyone keeps telling me the networks never gave Tales of the Gold Monkey a chance, and that sounds like the kind of show I'd like.

But my niche. Like I said, I found it. I'm going to be the first guy to have '90s nostalgia. I'm even going to copyright it so everyone else has to pay me when they want it. I can do '90s nostalgia. That shit was awesome, as I remember it.

Like remember M.C. Hammer? His pants were big. He always hung out with a lot of guys and jumped around, and sang some of those famous, unforgettable songs. Like the Addams Family one. Like he said, don't touch him, remember? That was awesome. I expect to get $1.50 out of that one, on average.

After that we came up with grunge. I still remember the big bands from those years. Like Joan Osbourne and Dishwalla. They were in-your-face, like punk, but everybody could like them. They said God was a bum and they wanted to hear what you thought, which was cool. I wrote a song and sent it to Dishwalla and I guess they had a creative writing block or something because they haven't gotten back to me yet. That's probably worth about $4. $5, if I throw in Tracy Bonham's mom.

They had a ton of cool movies in the '90s, too. Remember Braveheart and Schindler's Lab? I didn't see them but lots of people did. From the box you could tell Mel Gibson had long hair and was a roadie or something. I bet that was cool. He was crazy, wearing that dress and all. And Schindler's Lab was in black and white, judging by the back of the box, so I didn't see it. But it was pretty tempting, because they had those cool Matrix-looking numbers on the front. It was probably an awesome computer movie like Johnny Nemamonic, another kick-ass '90s movie. Which I didn't see. I'll only charge about $1 for all those, since I didn't see them. But reminding other people they saw them should be worth something.

And who could forget the music? But we did that already.

Remember when Chris Farley and Princess Diana were killed in that car crash? That sucked. They were so funny. I'd like to take a long pause to remember them, and charge about $10 for it.

T.V. was completely "fresh" in the '90s, too. I didn't have one, but it was. Sometimes I would watch them at a friend's house, or through the neighbor's window. There were lots of doctor and lawyer shows, because they can afford televisions. What do you think that's worth, about $1.30? Not too much, but something.

Anyway, since I lost my job this will be a nice way to pay the bills. And keep my memories! So consider this an invoice for $18.80. Cash and check are fine, but I can't take credit cards. I'm looking into Paypal.

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Usually I prefer to uncover global conspiracies, to shine the light of justice on the hidden ugliness of the world as only journalism can. The cover-ups and shams so big they affect all of our lives. The big time, in other words. This time I turn my red laserlight of truth on the small movie screen of a local shyster. His name is Kurt Benworthy.

Mr. Benworthy is the most unscrupulous con-man I've ever encountered, and I've met Don King, readers. I went to Kurt Benworthy from an ad in the paper. I print it in its entirety here:

"Dogs for sale. Puppies, pooches, hounds, mutts, and bitches. Perfect for the kids or the wife, or the wife's husband. Dogs, long considered man's best friend by those in the know. Now experience dog ownership as you've only dreamed. P.O. Box 1584. No refunds."

Hell! "No refunds." So it was in the ad. I guess I owe Mr. Benworthy an apology. Well, there may not seem much reason to go on, but I don't care about the money. Even if I never see a dime of my $10 again I want to reveal Kurt Benworthy for the rip-off artist he is.

I went to Post Office Box 1584 and, sure enough, Mr. Benworthy was living inside. Fortunately it was a rather large box. He had rented several and in each he had several "dogs," all of which he espoused the virtues of while telling me glorious stories of dog ownership. Maybe I'm a big fat sucker with a white stick up my ass, or maybe the white stick up my ass just leaves people with that assumption, but either way, Mr. Benworthy sold me a shoddy bill of goods.

The dog I picked out, "Putnam P. Puppy," was adorable at first sight. I purchased Mr. Puppy and took him home, looking forward to all the fetching and ball biting we would do together, or allow him to do while I watched. First thing when we hit the Bagel backyard, I threw a ball and… as you can already guess perhaps, Putnam Puppy did not go after the ball. I was sorely disappointed, and it's then my eyes opened to the dirty side of dog sales.

Putnam P. Puppy was in actuality a long-haired cat with certain prosthetics in place and falsified documents to make him appear to be a dog. I took him to my doctor, no expert on animals, but a generally smart guy who I trust for legal advice, and he assured me I had in fact been sold a cat. A cat disguised as a dog. Putnam Puppy is a long-haired meowing cat and Kurt Benworthy is a goddamn dirty liar.

What am I supposed to do with a cat? Enter a dog show? Guess again, the rules are strict on that, I've found out. Sit around the fireplace, writing poems about my beloved old dog? Fuck that, I've got a cat, thanks to that bastard Benworthy. I'm the laughingstock of my kennel club and all those issues of Dog Fancy I bought, well, they're basically slick toilet paper now. Thank you again, Mr. Benworthy.

It may be too late to do anything. When I returned to the post office I found out Mr. Benworthy had vacated his post office box with six months back rent due, leaving behind only a few chiahuahua-sheepdog mixed puppies. So I may have lost my shirt in this scam, revealing my chubby love handles and spare tire for all to see, but I stress to you these important tips when inspecting a dog for purchase:

• Check for a zipper down the underside, or failing that, a prosthetic dog beak.
• Drop the "dog" from a high place, like the top step on a ladder. If it lands on its feet, it's a cat; if it dies instantly, it's a dog.
• As you're walking away, turn suddenly and yell, "Hey, cat!" If the "dog" looks at you, you've found a no-good cat in disguise.

Here's salutations to all the future dog-owners out there. I wish to be one of you someday. Preferably the tall one.

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