Little Mexican Boy Separated from Father Useless in Advancing American Politics

ine-year-old Carlos Montoya has been separated from his father since his mother, aunt, and maternal grandparents smuggled him and themselves across the Mexican-U.S. border in late 1999 to find work across the border. After his mother mysteriously disappeared, believe to be carted away by a pimp named Slappy, Carlos has lived with his aunt and grandparents in a dumpster outside a class in a poverty-stricken area of San Pocos, California.

And, according to Attorney General Janet Reno, Carlos has done little, if anything, to advance the American political agenda.

"I don't want to point any accusatory fingers," Reno said in a recent press conference, as she scowled at the little boy, freshly arrived for the press conference from a filthy cardboard box, "but we could sure use a lot of help with free-trade between ourselves and Mexico. Let's just say Carlos isn't doing much to help."

Reporters were quick to remind Reno the Montoya boy is only nine, but Reno made a "pffft" sound with her lips and said, "Yeah, that's a good excuse. We all know there are kids out there younger than that who are doing a hell of a lot more to help out their country. I mean, I'm not naming names... but you know what I mean."

When asked if Montoya would be returned to his father, Reno shrugged and responded, "If he wants him. Lord knows we aren't going to waste the Supreme Court's time with this matter. Hell, I wouldn't take this little sumbitch to People's Court."

Reno laughed heartily at her own remarks, then belched loudly and said it tasted like eggs.

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Dear commune:

My name is Ronnie Boyd and I am 13 years old. I'm in the hospital right now and very sick.

I have a rare disease that I can't even pronounce. I need a genitals transplant or the doctors say I won't live very long at all. I probably won't get it, as the doctors say genitals transplanting is very rare and most doctors can't do it without laughing so it's a very risky procedure. My doctor says things look pretty bad and I might not live six months, even if I pay the bill.

I am writing because I am trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records before I die. Since I am sick and my genitals don't even work I can't do all that much, but the Guinness people said my best bet is to get as many "get well" cards as possible and maybe I can set the record for that. So if you could spread the word that the sick boy with the bad genitals needs cards maybe I can do it before I die.

Thank you very much. It means a lot to me.

Ronnie Boyd
Kingstown, DE


Dear Ronnie:

We were very moved by your story, at least some of us at the commune, and we would like to help you. We would like to, but due to recent events it's not going to happen. Read on:

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Dear commune:

This is Patrick Molton and I'm 11. Just to cut to the chase, I have a rare bone disease that makes my bones pop out through the skin and it's really gross. I need a really obscure type of bone marrow to transplant or I'll die. I probably won't get it as I'm not very well liked and, well, that whole "waiting list" thing is just a popularity contest.

I'm trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for the most "get well" cards sent to a dying sick kid and I'm doing pretty well, off to a nice start. I'd appreciate if you could let everybody know what I'm doing and where they can send cards and stuff.

Also, watch out for that asshole Ronnie Boyd. He's beat me to the New York Times and
Washington Post both, and the New York Times wouldn't even publish my letter afterwards, they said I wasn't cute enough and they had some kind of limit on the number of dying kid letters they could run. It's enough to really piss someone off. We even both promised, Ronnie Boyd and I, we wouldn't try overseas outlets and then that prick writes to BBC and he's all over the news and radio over there, it's a shitbag. British folks everywhere babbling on about Ronnie Boyd, Ronnie Boyd—do they give a fuck who Patrick Molton is? No. I might as well just be some nobody from Canada.

Ronnie Boyd is a complete asshole. Sure, he comes off a like a perfect bed-ridden sick kid, but it's just a big fat lie. He has this big awful dick-rotting-off disease but he never mentions he got it from sleeping with pigs. Makes a difference, doesn't it? Do you really want to send your "get well" cards to a pigfucker? Think carefully.

I'm the real deal, people. Real good kid, no false pretenses, certainly no animal fucking. I may be a little rough around the edges but that's just because I'm so damn straight with you, I ain't going to lie like some pigfuckers I could mention. So you search your souls or whatever you need to do and before you send out a "get well" card, just be sure if you want a pigfucker in the Guinness Book of World Records or a straight-shooting good American kid. Thanks.

Patrick Molton
Meelay, NJ


Dear Patrick, Ronnie:

As you can see, this has become a much stickier issue than we're prepared to get into. All we can say is good luck trying to get into the Guinness Book, but we're not getting involved.

Pigfucker.

the commune

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Dear commune:

Why didn't you tell anyone the commune was going to be on 60 Minutes? Being both a regular 60 Minutes viewer and loyal commune reader, I was happily surprised to see Ed Bradley leading a camera team into the offices of the commune last Sunday. I'm not sure why they blurred Rok Finger's face and not everybody else, but it was very cool to see all the famous commune writers and columnists and personalities (Mazie the Chicken is a lot shorter in person) in moving pictures for the first time.

It's a shame they spent so much time on the unhealthy working conditions of the office and the questionable bookkeeping in the advertising department and didn't cover the great reporting and on-target editorials the commune has always presented. If you're going to be on television again, let me know so I can tape it.

Mitch Weaver
Mullasky, VA


Dear Cary:

Our lawyers suggest we answer your letter carefully and neither confirm nor deny the
60 Minutes piece you mentioned. We can safely say, however, that Rok Finger's face was not blurred by any technological means. It just takes some getting used to.

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for however many seashells she sells by the sea shore when she sells seashells. That's one of our favorites. That and holding your tongue and telling everyone you were born on a pirate ship.

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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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