fter thrilling America with exciting, action-packed tales in the hours after the May 1st raid that took Osama bin Laden’s life, White House officials have issued a series of statements gradually correcting and de-awesomeing their story as additional details have arisen from talking to people who actually know what the fuck happened.

"I may have gotten carried away in my initial statements about the raid," explained White House counterterrorism head John Brennan, source of many of the erroneous stories. "It turns out that bin Laden wasn’t actually killed by Matt Damon and Christian Bale, as I originally indicated, although that would have been awesome, but rather by faceless Special Forces goons you wouldn’t know if you were drinking right next to them in a bar. Sorry. Also, the Black Hawk helicopter that crashed during the raid was not brought down by an awe-inspiring salvo of RPG rockets as I first stated, I think I was thinking of that Ridley Scott movie on that one, but anyway, a five cent nut snapped and that piece of shit came down like a Chevy the day after your warranty expires. I know, I know. Reality is boring."

Brennan’s corrections were accompanied by noticeably fewer sound effects and animated hand gestures than his initial statements had been.

"I know I also said bin Laden was holed up in a mansion on a million-dollar compound like the drug kingpin in Commando, but yeah, it was actually a shithole. That place had like two windows and there were stray dogs all over the place. C’mon, it’s Pakistan, you guys should have called bullshit on that one yourselves. If I’d known you were all writing down everything I said I might have dialed back the pizazz a bit, you know? But whatever. Anyway, what else? Hold on, I’ve got a whole list here. Whooboy."

"Uhm, yeah we shot bin Laden’s son and his wife, but there was a guy down the street with a machine gun… pretty sure on that part… President Obama did not watch the raid live on TV, that photo I referenced was actually the president and his cabinet watching The Human Centipede and I think you’ll all agree that’s some sick shit… And no, we didn’t bury bin Laden at sea to prevent his gravesite from becoming a shrine for terrorists, actually this is kind of funny, but apparently when they were flying back over the sea, the guys in the chopper got in an argument about Lost and they wanted to re-create the scene in season 4 where the chopper’s running out of gas and Sawyer jumps out into the ocean to save everyone else… anyway, they said it was pretty awesome… uhm… Look, did you guys hear bin Laden had like 100 gigs of porn on his laptop? Holy shit, right? Let’s talk about that."

After original reports from White House officials indicated that bin Laden was shot while charging Navy SEALs with a blazing Uzi sub-machinegun in each hand, using his own wife as a human shield, this story was later amended to remove the wife and arm Bin Laden with a sack of poisonous vipers instead. After several subsequent corrections, the sack of vipers became a little girly derringer pistol, then stack of tax audit paperwork, and finally a really snotty Kleenex. Later in the week, the story was further amended when White House officials admitted that bin Laden was actually unarmed and in his pajamas at the time of the killing, and may or may not have been playing with a newborn kitten. Just before press time, the story was again corrected to indicate that bin Laden died of a head cold in 2003.

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IRS: Excessively Needy Girlfriends Can’t Be Declared “Dependents”

Dear Commune:

You have my phone number. You, the commune. You need to call the phone company and straighten this out. I've had the same phone number for 42 years and I'm NOT about to give it up. Thank you.

Agnes Knutson
Bromade, NJ


Dear Agnes:

We here at the commune are very sorry to hear that your life has become interesting in a way that makes you mildly uncomfortable. Obviously, we'll call the phone company right away and make sure they restore to you the number you've earned by staying in the same miserable place for your entire life. Pssssh! Right! You can stuff it up your ass with the nice old lady act, lady. We here at the commune pay our bills, biiiiatch, and if you see fit to bring your mess all up in our shit again you will be introduced to some mad hurtin'. Damn. Also, tell your withered old biddy friends to stop calling here, they keep kicking us off the Internet.

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for anything we got your kids to eat. Lengthy precedent has established that U.S. courts consider a triple dog dare to be legally binding.

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Dear commune:

I couldn't be more disappointed with the commune. Well, I suppose I could, if you were to say something bad about that charming young man from that show Jag. But right now I'm very upset as it is. My dog will no longer "go" on the commune. For the past few months Mumps was quite a good little dog, but ever since you started running those awful stories about terrorism he just can't make his business on the commune. What do you have to say for yourselves?

Ezra Gallworth
Tupelo, Mississippi


Dear Ezra:

We're fascinated with the idea of your dog taking a dump on a monitor with a digitized picture of Sampson L. Hartwig on it. But we're unable to help at all, we don't make the news, at least not much of it, we only report it. Terrorism has never been conducive to gastro-intestinal health, as studies at Johns Hopkins and Omar Bricks' Fourth of July parties has often revealed.

Perhaps you should let your dog out to make on the lawn once in a while, you grizzled old fossil. Or stop feeding him that dust-covered bowl of breath mints that's been on your coffee table since Eisenhower's inaugural address. Thanks for writing and may your life alert beeper continue to function properly for many hours to come.

the commune

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Dear commune:

I am extremely upset with the commune and your "This Space For Rent" column. Each week a parade of idiots are allowed to express their bizarre and insipid opinions, and for what? No, seriously, what? How much does it cost? It's downright offensive.

Maybe I could understand better if I didn't know about the case of my cousin, Nestor. Again and again Nestor has petitioned to present a column on illiteracy for your web publication and each week, even after he has presented you with a check for the "This Space For Rent" fee, he is turned away. Obviously the commune is not quite the freedom- loving news source they present themselves as.

You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves, and I mean more so. Don't count on me to be checking out the commune anymore.

"Weak Hat" Tim McGee
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania


Dear "Weak Hat":

We at the commune remember your cousin Nestor quite well. It's difficult to forget the man who gets lodged in the revolving door of your office each week. Nestor has been here several times, yes, and we have continuously told him he is welcome to present a column on illiteracy to us for the commune to print. Our refusal to publish his column has nothing to do with his "for" opinion on illiteracy and everything to do with the fact we can't publish strange markings or rips in notebook paper as they do not actually comprise a "column" per se.

Also, though Nestor has written us several checks, we are unable to cash any of them since he cannot sign them, make them out to anybody, specify any monetary amount, nor does he actually have a checking account. Checks are also not allowed to be written on Charmen toilet paper, to the best of our knowledge.

Please find whatever hole in the fence your cousin is escaping through and block it off. Our revolving door can only take so much. Thanks for writing.

the commune

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Dear commune:

I had a dream last night and you were a real asshole.

We were out fishing in this boat, and I was using turkey and cheese for bait and you were using a small tactical missile. Then, without warning, you ate me whole without chewing. What was that about? I thought we were friends.

The rest of the dream went on for a few hours, at least it seemed like a few hours, but I don't really know much about it because I was inside your stomach and it was very dark. I think I heard Faye Dunaway's voice but I don't know for sure.

What a cock-basket you are.


Miles M. Coltrane
Harlan, New Hampshire


Dear Miles:

How strange it is you're basically a supporting player in your own dream. Perhaps you should seek professional help for the long list of issues you have, then come back to us and complain about our dreamlife alter-egoes.

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for the national shortage of cool bands, blame terrorism if it makes you feel punchy. All our letters are tested for biological contagions, then we score them on Cosmo's "Ten Ways to Satisfy Your Man" quiz.

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