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Congress Approves Military Budget for "Whatever the President Thinks is Fair"

May 13, 2002
Washington, DC
Whit Pistol
Bush (left) and Sen. Daschle, who reacts the same way when Bush is referred to as "the president".
A
sure sign of the times, Congress gave a blanket approval to any military budget requests from president Bush Friday.

In an effort to quickly pass a military budget to cover next year—and the exciting promise of future military operations—both the House and the Senate conceded that what was necessary for the defense of the United States and its aggressive acts overseas was surely better decided by the president than by countless Washington insiders just there to fatten their pockets.

"Now I'm a politician, not a militaritician," said Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert (R-Illinois), "nor am I knowledgeable of what words mean. But the president is a well-informed man with infallible decision-making powers. That's all I need to know before I approve him for wh...Read more...


Delphi files bankruptcy; sells entire CD collection to pawn shop

GOP strikes back at filibusters by installing Laz-E-Boys on Senate floor

Arafat sharing room with whining methadone patient

$6 billion contract bounces away from Boeing



October 28, 2002

Click for Biography

GET UP!

"GET UP!"
screamed the miter
(a miniature mote)
who'd grown up in the bottom
of the back of a boat.

"RISE!"
cried the tiny little segmented man
whose hat was bright purple,
but his body was tan.

"HUZZAH!"
he repeated, at the top of his lungs
the very tip top,
so loud it rattled his bung.

"GOOD MORNING!"
he shouted.

"MOOD GORNING!"
he out-snouted
through the reverberant caverns of his nose
as he screamed and he scramped
and he ripped off his clothes.

"BRRRRRANT!"
on his bugle he bugled the note.
Then he honked out a ditty
that he'd recently wrote.

Into his mega he phoned
and he bellowed and moaned
as he screeched and he warbled
like a boy band on fire
and he pierced the sky with high notes
like a castrated choir.

He jumped and he leaped
as he stomped and he beeped,
making such a racket as to wake up the dead
who would wake with a ring and a buzz in their heads.

But even when threw a drum kit down the stairs
and gave untuned tubas to the back-country bears
and told the hyenas a side-splitting joke
and he banged on his gong till his gong-banger broke,
on his chalk board he screeched a quarry's worth of chalk
and he gave the loud-talkers a license to talk
and he shoved a canoe...Read more...


º Last Column: Mouse in My House
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October 28, 2002

Click for Biography

Deep Omar is the Chess Messiah

Life is funny sometimes.

I was out prowling around and whatnot the other day when I ducked into a store in the mall that had this huge life-size statue of Xena in the window. Now, Omar Bricks isn't a huge Xena fan or anything pathetic like that, but he knows a key piece of interior decorating décor for the Bricks Manor when he sees it.

I was hoisting the Xena statue onto my back when the pre-pubescent store manager asked me if I needed help with anything, like he was going to crap out a disc helping me carry this thing out to my bike. I asked him if he had could get me a dickfour, which I figured would keep him busy for a while. But he was unphased, this cat was all business. We shot the shit for a while, and I was disappointed to find out that this backwoods store doesn't accept SuperAmerica calling cards as a form of payment. No shit! In America no less. It was probably for the best though, since $10,000 for the statue probably would have gone over the minutes I had remaining on my card. I'm not sure, but there's a pretty good chance. Thus began a fruitless bartering session that went nowhere but gave us both a good excuse to yell in public.

I sent the dude to go check with his regional manager to make sure they didn't need a used Nordic Track for the store, and while I was waiting, some salivating dweeb trapped me into a conversation like a sparrow caught in flypaper. He had his retainer all in a twist about some computer program...Read more...


º Last Column: A Prank Call From the Fates
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Quote of the Day
“If you can't stand the heat, turn down the goddamned heater.”

-Cheri S. Truman
Fortune 500 Cookie
You will find great happiness in wok. Be on the lookout for signs, they may guide you to riches or prevent you from driving on the railroad tracks. A large dog will determine your fate. Remember: Just a dab heals dry skin, but larger quantities can lube an entire baby. Lucky numbers: 0, 0, 0, 6.


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

View Past Columns
BY Jonas J. Cullogan
5/23/2005
The Prunes of Ignominy
Luke walked up the road in his one-dollar suit, which came with shoes but he had to pay extra for the socks. The right sock was fourteen cents, but the left cost a little more since they sewed a penny into the heel for good luck, which made them very uncomfortable for walking. As a result, Luke wasn't wearing the socks, but he kept them stuffed into his seven-cent underwear for impressive effect.

The suit didn't come with a shirt, a fact that Luke wished he had noticed before he'd given his old shirt to an elephant to use as a handkerchief. His old pants, those were gone too since they'd been made into a makeshift diaper for an incontinent horse ten miles back, but Luke had no worries about that since the new pants were just fine.

Granted, a dollar was a lot of money...Read more...

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