Hippies Busted! 600 Weirdoes, Peaceniks Arrested for Blowing Minds of the Establishment

he situation in Washington, D.C. was all wavy-gravy Friday when approximately 650 radical "protesters" were arrested for getting trippy on the government and local police in their attempts to denounce White House calls for intervention in the Middle East and the International Monetary Fund for its global policies.

According to the various protesters, who were likely extremely high, the United States, the World Bank, and the IMF have engaged in tactics of sharing wealth with nations with no dire need for it while allowing third-world countries beset by poverty to suffer. True or not, the ridiculous protests by nutcases and fruitcakes slowed down traffic and interrupted the normal flow of the capitalist machine for several hours. The police, the national heroes of September 11^th, were brought in to clear the way for hardworking apathetic citizens.

"Everything is returning to normal here," said D.C. police captain Gilbert Hayes. "Go back to sleep."

Protesters used glaring signs, offensive T-shirts, and shouted un-American slogans like "The president is wrong!" against police, buildings, and in the general direction of the United States. Police used justified force to make the protesters stop getting in the way of honest Americans, resulting in only one reported injury and countless bruises which couldn't be helped.

"Go back to college!" shouted one enraged cop as he kicked a hippie ten feet down Pennsylvania Avenue, a new personal record.

Some whacked-out nit-pickers also held demonstrations against the Gap, the international jeans store chain most famous for their annoying advertising and putting their jeans on shelves instead of racks. According to the fruitcakes, who were so high they took off their clothes and ran around in their underwear, the Gap exploits workforces in other countries with poor labor laws. How this was a surprise to anybody or affected the cost of American jeans was uncertain.

Most protesters were released on a small bond, like the cost of one of their dime bags, after being charged with upsetting mainstream America and refusing to do whatever the police said. Five were charged with destruction of sacred artifacts, commonly referred to as corporate and government property. A charge of treason was unlikely, but police are looking into it.

"It is important that as long as we have the freedom to speak in this country," said protester Lisa Morgan, referring to some anachronistic line in the Constitution, "we use that freedom to make our leaders aware of how we feel. Not only if our own liberty and comfort is threatened, but if those in our country are doing immoral things in the name of the United States in other countries."

Morgan's LSD tirade was ended when a dutiful officer smacked her in the head with a club, very possibly "bringing her down."

It was not expressed to the public at press time whether Washington, D.C. had the available jail space to hold all protesters who weren't released on bond, but if necessary there's possibly enough space in Camp X-Ray in Cuba to house all the militants.

Lawyers for Gitmo Detainees Lobby to Stop Calling Them “Gitmo” Detainees

Fans Mourn First 30 Years of Puckett’s Life

Serial Killer’s Neighbor: “He just wouldn’t shut up about serial killing.”

R.C. Car Enthusiasts Angered by Latest Mars Mission Snub

Hello, fan of Boris. Is welcome to column.

Now you are wondering, I know, when is Boris to do something large? So tired of just reading that Boris live in America and watch for naked persons with binogulars. But no more time to be tired, reading friend! Because Boris spend exciting weekend outside of apartment and with Metallica.

Metallica is loud thing with angry persons and smoke, very fun. Is sort of like musics, if musics was like when Louis hits funny bone or finds out Boris is wearing all of Louis clean underwears. But is not so scary like this since Metallica is angry at all persons, not just Boris.

You are to wonder how Boris goes to such a thing, since Louis is not friend of Metallica? Of course, is true. Louis only likes person who is Herbie Hancock and makes strange robots music. Boris does watch robot music movie one time where there is pants walking in closet and bird made of lamps. Boris first thinking is nightmare, but no! Louis remember this too. So strange. Talk about so many scary things, Boris cannot even hide in closet from such music because closet is full of dancing pants.

So no, robots cannot come to Metallica because they are made of metals. Is like magnet thing, bad mess for robots. But Louis friend Marco is big friend of Metallica and plus is made of normal persons materials. So Marco friend does bring Boris to thing. Hooray for Boris!

Funny part is Marco going to this thing for selling special bags of weeds to persons. Is Boris hip to this? Of course. Not to be silly, Boris does watch Similar to Skippy eat the lawn grass and then him decides to undo eating of grass by hobby of barfing. Is okay hobby if you are dog, trust Boris and dog doctor. But this is thing for persons to do as well? What crazy cartoon secrets Boris does not know! Is strange, but Boris and his hips does understand this.

Marco want to keep weeds in Boris fanny of pack when going to Metallica, so them does not get killed by sunlight. Oh, good idea. Boris does not know of such ways to keep weeds happy since only experience is stepping on weeds to hurt them. Is called yardwork.

So Marco and Boris goes to Metallica thing and have much screaming fun. Metallica persons is screaming, not Boris anymore after Marco explain that persons is not yelling at Boris. This makes thing much more fun. There is bombs that blow up and Metallica is killing everyone, very funny.

But first before Metallica there is other things, like Mudhen and Abraham Lincoln. These are other persons to yell at Boris so Metallica does not get tired all the time. Is smart. Also is persons called Pimp Biscuit who acts funny and sounds like breakfast.

Plus there is much smoke from bombs and cigarettes, this is fun thing like forests fire. All smoke makes Boris so sleepy but keeps lungs warm, is good.

Do not tell Marco, but Boris thinks best part is naked girls. All over place, girls is getting naked to show they like Metallicas. At first Boris thinks he is fallen asleep, but Marco sees these girls too. All dancing and saying goodbye to shirts, and then putting shirts back on. Naked girls cannot decide. Boris takes off shirt as well, to show that he says yes to Metallica, but persons says Boris is too white like doughboy to hurt their eyes. So Boris puts on shirt again but is still saying yes to Metallica with clothes on.

Is such good time Boris knows why persons joins the Armies, to do this thing all the time with bombs and naked persons. Hooray for this thing!

º Last Column: Boris is Pointing
º more columns

Truth be told, nobody ever thought Omar Bricks would get a cell phone, least of all Omar Bricks. That's strictly Captain Kirk bullshit for sci-fi geeks and mama's boys in my book. But to be honest I never thought somebody would leave one unguarded on the counter at Emergency Room Pizza, either. So let this be a lesson, we should always write our books in pencil or dry erase marker whenever possible or else look like an asshole later.

For those of you not native to the area, ERP is a local legend, a hospital-themed pizza joint that burns the fuck out of some tasty pepperonis. It's not really legendary for the food, but more for the number of people who have passed out or lost their shit while eating there, which are many. Apparently all the bloody tourniquets and bone saw decorations on the walls are too much for some local pizza lovers, and all the tables in there are pretty banged up from people falling down all over the place or scrambling out the windows in a panic.

Personally I think it's awesome. Yeah, what you've heard about the pizza is true; it does pretty much blow ass. It basically tastes like somebody smeared glue on a cardboard box, then set it on fire. Not that I've ever done that. But the place is never crowded, and you know Omar Bricks digs that part. I hate having to wait in line for shitty pizza. Plus ERP never fails to lift my spirits when I'm in a carless funk. They do this thing where every new customer gets a steaming cow heart right in the middle of their pizza as a surprise the first time they eat there, and let me assure you that shit is some serious dinner theater.

Now, the classy move when you're new to ERP and you get a heart on, to the Bricks school of thinking, is to palm the bloody thing in one hand, then stagger up to the counter and start coughing like you just took a hit off a Pinto muffler. When the dude in the paper hat asks you what's the score, that's when you squirt the heart out of your hand like you just coughed the fucker up. What happens after that is a matter of chance and wind direction, but in my case the nasty thing smacked off the guy's face like a wet frog and the entire restaurant threw up all at once. That's how I got my picture on the wall.

Not everyone handles it so well. One time I was there gnawing on a slice when this rookie got her pizza, and she actually thought the cow heart was a big bell pepper or some shit, and I guess she was some kind of bell pepper freak because she stabbed the fucker with her fork like it was going to get away. By chance, at that exact moment somebody flushed a toilet in the john, which sets off that fountain that squirts all the fake blood up by the counter, an ERP landmark. As you might guess, the lady dropped two gonads trying to get out of there before her stomach caught up with her brain, and that's why the front door is missing the glass on the bottom.

Something similar must have happened last week, because some poor soul got the rock out of there at the speed of fear, too fast to be worried about cell phones or their left sneaker. I left the shoe there, since they have a wall they nail those to as trophies, but I was pretty sure that nails and cell phones mix about as well as nails and Jesus, so I liberated that bastard like an Iraqi oil well.

Of course, the real trouble with cell phones is trying to figure out what your phone number is, not enough people write it on the back of the phone with a grease pencil like you're supposed to. I had a plan to have commune speed bump Bludney Pludd dial every number in the phone book until my phone rang, which was brilliant enough, but some little shithead kept calling the thing to ask if his mommy was coming home and that cocked up the whole deal. I had to send Pludd out to take him for ice cream so he wouldn't eat up all my battery time calling like that, since I don't have a charger or anything.

At least I can call out well enough, which is handy when I'm at a fast-food drive thru and I don't want to roll down my window and let the cold in. But people still find a way to piss on my pageant, saying they're not allowed to drop food through a sunroof or there's certain places where it's not polite to use a cell phone. Hey, if I want to talk on my phone while I'm pissing in a movie theater urinal, that's my own business. As for whoever's on the other end of the line, well, that's why I didn't find a camera phone. I just say I'm at the ocean or in a rainforest or some shit and they have to take my word on that if they want hear the rest of the story.

And don't get me started about people bitching that it's dangerous to talk on a phone and flip through the yellow pages while you're driving. Christ on a bike, I'm starting to understand why this thing got left behind. It's like a nag magnet.

Bricks out.

º Last Column: Long Live Omar Bricks!
º more columns