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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At every turn someone is yelling at me, "Take responsibility for your life!" Or something clever like, "If you're looking for someone to blame, look in the mirror." That's very fine if you're a rock song writer or something, Mr. Smart Guy, but what about Nick At Nite? No, nobody ever blames Nick At Nite.

I, for one, put the blame squarely on Nick At Nite. It's quite obvious their weekly marathons of old classic TV shows are blatant attempts to get me to sit and stay tuned for the entire weekend.

When I was younger, I used to do things. I would go out on the weekends with boys, I would visit places, I would often leave the house in doing so. I had activities to do. One time I read a book. It was more of a magazine, I guess, but I read it. From front to back, even the ad on the last page. No kidding. I read the whole damned thing. Not anymore.

I was married for a time. My husband was one of those "active" people I met back when I left the house a lot. I married him, we got jobs, bought a house, and then got cable. And down the pooper it all went, let me tell you. The first marathon I remember was All in the Family, and I don't know about you, but when Archie Bunker talks, I listen. Just like that commercial says, remember that? Ha ha.

That was my first, but not my last. Some of them blur together, but I'm pretty sure it was a Mork & Mindy marathon when my husband was yelling and screaming something about potatoes and couches and whatever and then he disappeared. Some lawyer brought me something to sign sometime later and I think it means we're divorced, all I know is nobody's sat in his spot on the couch in quite a while. And I always thought he liked Mork & Mindy.

After a while, one of my friends—alright, the cable guy—set me up on a blind date with some guy named Murdock. No, wait, Murdock was the name of the guy on The A-Team, and that's what I was watching that weekend when I was supposed to go out with him. Anyway, every once in a while I've answered a personal ad or two but they always want to get together on the weekend. Or at night, which is when Nick At Nite starts, duh—it's called Nick At Nite, stupid!

And I sure don't deliver pizzas like I used to. On the days I actually show up to work I always end up making a delivery to some house with cable. And everybody there's watching Nick At Nite! Or maybe they aren't, but while they aren't looking they usually don't hear me turn on the TV with the volume low and watch for a little while. A lot of times Taxi will be on, that's pretty weird, I think. And after a while they ask what I'm doing there, didn't they pay me and all, and I have to go. I hurry home so I can watch the rest of Taxi on my own TV.

I ask you now, how is any of this my fault? I didn't start a cable channel with America's most beloved sitcoms and action dramas airing all night. I didn't choose to run those adored shows all weekend from hour to hour. I'm perfectly willing to accept responsibility for any mistake on my part, but surely I'm only a human being, I'm not a god. I have the same weaknesses as anybody—

Ooo. Can't talk. The Wonder Years is starting!

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I'm learning all kinds of shit you can't even imagine. This is the kind of stuff you don't learn in school, folks. It's screenwriting school.

The last time I talked to you I told you about trying to write a screenplay, right? And how it was going so great, right? Well, turns out I hit some major block after I finished the title page. Just couldn't think of what the script needed to really get rolling, like the characters or what it was going to be about. Fortunately, I saw that Nancy Melville, one of Hollywood's greatest costume designers, was teaching a screenwriting course out here in Los Angeles. That's where I live! It's practically down the street! Out of Nancy's apartment, even. You can bet I jumped at the chance.

I've picked up inside dirt on the movie business that I never would have believed. Did you know it's considered unprofessional to handwrite your scripts? I thought it made mine look classier, but whatever. Gotta play ball, as they say. So I got me a laptop, hopefully my sister won't miss it until I'm done, and now I'm heavy at work on my screenplay.

Nancy gave us all sorts of shortcuts on what to do when you can't think of what you want your movie to be about. One thing a lot of screenwriters do is take an old movie, change the names of the characters, and give it some modern gimmick to make it different from the old film. And if you want, you don't even need the gimmick. Nancy says Hollywood doesn't even really care. Seems like they make all their movies this way, judging by a look at the latest releases. That makes it so much easier to write. I'm good at lying, but fiction is something else entirely.

The movie I decided to remake is Jaws. Nancy said I'm a natural at this business, because I took a movie that was really popular and I'm remaking it. I said I thought it was about time for a new shark movie, because people have been getting cocky lately and I think the sharks are starting to notice. It's just a matter of time before they start really fucking people up, just for laughs. But Nancy suggested I make it something else, since if I make it a shark everybody will know I'm ripping off Jaws. With a good remake, says Nancy, only critics and people of average intelligence will know I'm ripping off Jaws, because I used some subtlety. And that's what I'm going for.

That got me thinking: What's scarier than a shark? If you said two sharks, that's pretty funny. But you're not helping. No, I decided on a bear. Because if you think about it, bears are even worse. They look so cute, like you can go up and play with them. That's nature's way of suckering in people to eat, and Darwin called it natural selection, because he thought that was funny. So that's what I wanted, this cute bear that everyone thinks is so cuddly, but then he swipes with his claws and shit and it's good-night, Irene.

Well, it went through a real fucked-up part where I was totally blocked, trying to come up with what a bear would be doing underwater all the time. Then I just said it was part of a government science experiment and a billionaire corporation is involved. That explains it all. And, of course, I had to give the bear a scuba tank, a mask, and some flippers, because having this bear swim underwater for too long without all that stuff just wouldn't be realistic. But other than that, I can totally "borrow from the outline" in Jaws, as Nancy says, real sly for a complete stealing of that movie. I have a town sheriff in my movie, which I'm thinking will be played by Conan O'Brien, so I'm just calling him "Conan" in the script. Anyway, it's really rolling. I've got maybe five scenes done, including this really cool prologue where the bear fights a dolphin in the secret government lab. Just to set up how much of a bad-ass the bear is. If I keep this up I might even give up acting for screenwriting. It's a lot easier at least.

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