merica awoke this week to find itself trapped in a shitty Groundhog Day nightmare, thanks to a recent AP poll showing that if the election were held today, President Bush and Democratic candidate John Kerry would tie, with human Muppet Ralph Nader playing the spoiler once again by garnering 6 percent of the vote. These results were eerily and shittily similar to the 2000 Presidential election, when Bush won despite losing the popular vote, thanks in part to Nader siphoning off liberal voters and Bush’s brother Jeb taking a big, wet crap on the Constitution to ensure his brother would carry the crucial state of Florida.

Within moments of the Associated Press poll results being made public, Americans everywhere were comparing their feelings of nauseating year-2000 déjà vu to the 1993 Harold Ramis film Groundhog Day, in which Bill Murray plays a news weatherman doomed to repeat the same day over and over again until he gets it right. How this phenomenon might be possible for an entire nation on a four-year scale is not yet understood, though faerie magic has yet to be completely disproved. Regardless of the cause, non-Republicans everywhere agree that America needs to make some kind of major soul-searching change to prevent waking up in 2005 to hear “I Got You Babe� playing on clock radios across the country.

“Fuck! FUCK! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!� fumed an epileptically frustrated Democratic National Committee Chairman Terry McAuliffe upon hearing the results of the poll, a replay of the 2000 election searing his brain stem like a cattle brand. Similar sentiments echoed across the nation this week as Democrats and the non-rich envisioned a bizarre replay of the last presidential election, with Gore being swapped out for Democratic nominee John Kerry like some kind of bad Hollywood script for a time-traveling comedy.

“I don’t know if Kerry will be able to pull off what Gore did,� mused confident-sounding political pundit Prance Nancley. “Al Gore could have won that election in his sleep, after all he was running against a Mr. Potato Head doll. But Gore still somehow managed to drop the ball and kick it all the way down the street, allowing so-called adult George W. to sneak into the White House while the door was ajar and Gore was off looking for his ball. I don’t think Kerry has that kind of comedy in him. He is rather dull.�

Still, the possible scenario of an election repeat has haunted more than a few Democrat dreams this week, with Kerry taking the place of Gore as the respectable, though thoroughly boring democratic hopeful who somehow loses to Bush on a technicality, after Florida’s governor declares that blacks don’t have the right to vote in his state any more.

The lone encouraging note in all this is that according to the same AP poll, politics aren’t the only area in which America is trapped in a loop of déjà vu, as the AP cites “current� top-grossing films The Grinch, Cast Away and Mission Impossible 2, and has ‘N Sync, Santana and Eminem topping the album charts, which clearly isn’t true.

Is it?

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Nancy, sweet Nancy—the heart and soul of my existence. I would say you are the wind beneath my wings, but using such a contrived cliché to explain our love would make me vomit blood. You are not mere wind under silly bird wings, or I suppose bat wings or angel wings. You are a concussive force of destruction, 300mph winds that could drive straw through a brick wall.

It's no joke, Nancy. My love for you is so strong I sometimes feel like it will overcome me. I am not unlike Frodo, carrying a burden too big for such a small insignificant midget to handle, continually tempted and in danger of being overwhelmed by the power of the one true ring that is your love. All of that describes my affection for you, except for the implied evil I may not have ruled out quick enough.

Yours is no simple love I could slip in my back pocket and forget about, least of all because it is not a real tangible object. Your love is constantly on my mind, except for when I'm at work or in the bathroom, and it occupies my every other waking thought. That's got to be a good 65% of my day.

No, our love, mine for you and you for me, though I have yet to see a column expressing yours in such a way, our love is the strongest force nature has ever known. If it were a knife it could split open the earth to its very core and allow the hot magma within spill out into space. It would have to be a big knife, of course, but that's basically implied. It is a love more powerful than anything ever covered on the weather channel, even tornado hail.

If our love were funk, the whole world could get down to it. It would blast through speakers and rattle every window on earth, as if booming from a 2,000-mile long lowrider.

I am thoroughly convinced our love is the strongest thing in the universe, like the Hulk arm-wrestling Mr. T. It is like the pungent smell of paint thinner and that perfume you bought from Lazarus that one time, you remember which one—you kept complaining you couldn't get it off for a week. It is more than that powerful. But this is all good, because who wants an average love? A textbook love, with boring pictures like Leave it to Beaver's parents. You ever notice how they slept in separate beds? What was going on there?

Yes, I don't exaggerate to say our love may be the biggest thing the universe has ever known. Or perhaps I do, just a little, but our love is well worth embellishing, it is that cherished to me, and probably you—haven't heard a lot in response lately. But our love is so good, we don't need to parade it around town like our neighbor with his convertible Chrysler. Ooo, I'm Jack Hamilton, I can afford a convertible, well, who cares, Jack? Your love with that girl who comes over on Friday night is only Friday-night love, and I have a love so strong in can occupy 8 days in the span of only 7. I'm not sure how exactly it works, if it squeezes extra seconds in-between or adds the extra hours at the end of the day, but it does just that.

Unfortunately, our love is susceptible to lying. Not my lying, because I swear I thought those earrings were real diamonds when I bought them off the guy. We both totally got taken. But I don't expect you to simply take me back on the basis of my proclamation here, I just want to get together and you can hear my side of the story. It was a pretty shitty Valetine's Day for me, too, Nancy, having to sleep in my car because you got more than a little pissed off. Still, I don't hold a grudge, and you've had time to realize some of those things you said about my penis were quite out of line. Truce?

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Ah, hello! How'd it happen? Yes, yes, Boris is good too.

Already Boris feel American like John Sinatra. Louis teach about football, andcheese in can. What wonderful thing! Boris press button on can, and cheese jumpout like "Here I am to eat!" Boris is master of cheese.

Boris eat much can cheese while watching thing that is Superbowl. So much sothat fun is had and Boris cannot make toilet for week! What way to save time. Notoilet time wasting for Boris, who is busy doing Superbowl.

Talk about fun things that are Superbowl! Men in costumes who run outside, thisis football. What great things this is, or as Louis say shit. What great shitswe are having when men run with little turkey thing that flies. "Shit!" saysLouis when turkey flies long way. "Shit!" says Boris who is having Superbowlfun.

But there is more than costumes to Superbowl, there also have nice men fromgovernment tell stories of football while wearing suit. They tell rules why menson field not getting up. Nope! You stay down on field, you are dead. You arefootball dead, sorry. Boris love this part of excitement.

Louis love dancing girls who are girlfriend of players on sides. "Hello!" hecheer when they are dancing in small clothes. Louis want give them babies inass. Ho ho! Louis is generous robot.

Boris like dancing girls, too, but they are bad at catching turkey, almost neverthey get that thing. But they are girls, so persons understand. No persons yellat them and they are on T.V. and happy.

Boris favorite football part is wonderful commercials which do funny thing. Alltimes there is dog talking or little animals doing magic. Aha! Who teach thosebeers to play football? Boris does not know! It is a funny magic.

Speak of magic, Boris thinking America have magic beer. In Homeland, beer makesBoris fat and go home with ugly woman. But not so America! America beer makepersons strong and have sexy womens and fun all times, not never woke up in dogpounds. Persons run and jump and have beer fun but not chuck up beer in backseat of taxi. And also them are on T.V.

Boris have so much fun doing Superbowl, why not invite all persons for Superbowlparty? Large fun to have with many persons doing Superbowl and sharing can ofcheese. So Boris press numbers on phone until persons talking to Boris.

"Hello! Boris is Superbowl party!"

Many time Boris call robots who speak not Boris language and instead answer"Baaaaaaaaaaaah…" in robot voice. Hello? Is this yes? Only robots know is thisyes. If Louis home he could ask robots is this yes, but him out getting robotmoney.

When Louis come home Boris tell of Superbowl party and invited telephone personsand robots. Louis excited!

"Boris, you inbred beer fart, the Superbowl was last month! It's only once ayear!"

Oh, ha ha. Louis is funny with robot jokes.

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