he so-called 'Axis of Evil,' which now has more points than a pinwheel, took on another member when the forgettable South American country of Venezuela added itself to the roster of anti-U.S. countries this week. The announcement was made in the most awkward fashion, when President Victor Chavez made allegations that the United States has made plans to invade Venezuela soon. How soon? Chavez didn't pinpoint a date, but said the invasion would happen imminently.

According to Chavez, the U.S. has been planning to invade his country for some time, and he has proof, although he didn't exactly present it to anybody. The most precise allegation made by Chavez cited "invasion training maneuvers" being made in his country by CIA operatives, who apparently weren't in Venezuela for one of their thousands of monthly beauty pageants.

"The U.S. wants our oil," said Chavez, not to be confused with the famed union leader beloved by Steinbeck fans and folksingers alike. "They are planning to invade Venezuela to get it. But they will not have it. And if they carry out their plan of invasion, they will be in for a hundred-year war they cannot win." Apparently there's a huge population of homegrown Navy SEALs in Venezuela that haven't been widely publicized.

Chavez appeared on Larry King, home of the mouth of the infidels, to warn the U.S. government not to fuck around with the big boys.

"We are as giants to the United States as you are but ants to normal people. Understand? Perhaps the translation is not so perfect… we are the giants, at giant size, while you are ant size. Get it? You are not normal human size. So we are, you can see, immensely bigger than you. Not in country size or population, resources or world renown. But fighting spirit! This is where we are huge."

The president (of our little shithole) responded Friday to Chavez's Larry King comments: "I will say Mr. Chavez does have immense balls. The rest of it remains to be determined."

While most of the administration shrugged and tried not to smirk at the angry Venezuelan's accusations, a certain White House insider called Vito, and whose real name is revealed on www.confidentialsourcesruined.com, attempted to shed some light on the U.S.-Venezuela position in the current administration.

"The president can't even say Venezuela," confided Vito. "I don't think he ever got past the 48 continental states in his geography classes. He occasionally points to the maps and says, 'What's with the other America? Who's copying us?' But this isn't just about insulting the president; it's about pointing out, once and for all, that when it comes to Venezuela, or for that matter any South American country, the White House position is to truly not give a shit."

While Chavez accused the Bush administration of seeking an invasion for Venezuela's rich oil reserves, our man Vito discounted that as unlikely horseshit.

"I'm not sure where Mr. Chavez gets his confidential information on U.S. foreign policy, but he should go back to the guy and beat the piss outta him. Does he seriously believe Venezuela is next on the list for U.S. invasion? Please! I mean… does he really have the list? Not even the top 10. We've got Korea, Syria, Iran, Pakistan… New Zealand, but that's a surprise, so don't tell anyone. Lord of the Rings raised their profile. But Venezuela? Please. All in good time, amigos. We've got bigger fish to fry first."

efugees from the New Orleans disaster were thrilled this week by the news that Mayor Ray Nagin plans to re-open large parts of the city as early as today, allowing the many refugees spread across the American South like spilled milk to finally return home. The decision to return, however, is not so easy for the small number of lucky refugees who were relocated to the French Quarter section of the Disneyland theme park in Anaheim, California during the first days of flooding.

“This is great, it’s like being back home, except Disneyer!� gushed socialite Anita Bomes, thrilled with her new New Orleans, a quaint miniature version of the city located near a fake lake that, to date, has never flooded.

Others have not been so happy with their new home, claiming the $20 in Goofy Bucks they were given for food and lodging upon arrival does not go far in Disneyland’s helium-inflated economy, where food prices and housing expenses can bear little resemblance to the outside world.

“How are we supposed to live here?� questioned refugee Alanis DuPree. “A storage locker here costs more than my apartment back home did. And I can only fit my head in that locker. That makes for some mighty uncomfortable sleepin’.�

Others have found creative solutions to the problem, like Ethan Fromme, who now lives inside the popular Pirates of the Caribbean ride.

“Aside from the whole town being on fake fire all the time, this isn’t half bad,� explained Ethan. “Sure, there’s still lots of water everywhere like back home and the whole place smells like the pool down at the Y, but on the upside none of the lifeless bodies here carry cholera.�

Ethan also enjoys the attention of having scores of children in boats gawking at his lifelike appearance as he sits and drinks beer in front of his house façade.

In a televised national address Thursday night, President Bush promised additional aid for New Orleans refugees who have been frightened by the Haunted Mansion ride and who could desperately use a frozen banana covered in chocolate. Bush also surprised many by taking full responsibility for the federal government’s failure to properly address the New Orleans situation in the early days of the disaster. Bush’s remarks were in stark contrast to his reaction when first hearing about the disaster weeks before, when the startled president blurted out “Fuck this!� and ducked into a secret tunnel hidden in the Oval Office sideboards.

After the president’s speech, everyone even vaguely related to the tragedy rushed to take full responsibility as well, with Louisiana Gov. Kathleen Blanco taking full responsibility Thursday night, former FEMA head Michael Brown taking full responsibility after being ridden out of town on a rail Friday, and New Orleans homeless man Roger Dunkin taking full responsibility for the disaster on Saturday afternoon.

Louisiana residents are waiting with baited breath to hear if reclusive author J.D. Salinger will come out of hiding to take full responsibility some time in the next week.

Meanwhile, in Anaheim, refugees are wary of rumors that they may be relocated yet again to Frontierland if the New Orleans Square area’s shortage of caramel corn is not soon remedied.

“I’d rather die than live in Frontierland,� explained Ninth Ward refugee Darnell Hughes, wearing a humorous Donald Duck baseball cap. “If they move us over there I’m just gonna walk back. I’m serious, I don’t care how far it is,� boasted Hughes of the two-block walk separating Frontierland from Disneyland’s New Orleans Square.

Although many N.O. refugees arrived at Disneyland with little more than the shirts on their backs, most have since loaded up on Disney souvenirs dwarfing their previous collections of personal effects.

“We don’t have any way to carry all this stuff,� complained Ted Mooney, gesturing toward the generous heap of Disneyland merchandise he and his wife have had to rent two baby strollers to carry. “Now my wife wants one of those Goofy hats with the long ears. How are we going to carry that? Tell me, President Bush, where are we supposed to fit that?�

Others have grown disenchanted with New Orleans Square since local retailer La Boutique de Noel ran out of Disney-themed Christmas ornaments earlier in the week.

“I’m not going back,� explained a proud Chandra Miller of Bywater. “We’ve made a new life for ourselves here in Toontown. Why would we want to go back? Sure, maybe to visit, and ride Pirates. But live there? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice… You know how the rest of that goes.�

The streets are more dangerous than ever. This is not only the basic premise for every movie Charles Bronson made in the 70s and 80s, it's an undeniable fact. And since I've been bored the past couple of months, I decided to see what I, Rok Finger, could do about it.

This is not simply about my bicycle being stolen right off my lawn. I don't even need the bicycle, since I have a car. I merely didn't want the neighbors kids to have it since they never took care of it—coming home, casually abandoning it right there on their lawn. They deserved to have it confiscated under neighborly authority. No, I'm going to clean up the streets for the kids, for they are the future of America. Not the neighbor kids. I want to make that clear—I'm only doing this for other kids.

One day, Ginger and I might have kids. She turns ghost white at the mention of it, and sobs uncontrollably, but that doesn't mean it won't happen. And I want these streets to be safe for them… little Rokina and Walter Payton II. If I can make the streets safer through a little violence and intimidation, all the better.

Of course, don't expect the government to work with me on this, especially not at a local level. My first attempt to make the streets safer was thwarted by the police and fire departments, who immediately came over and moved all the heavy furniture away from my neighbors' front and back doors. They wouldn't even leave the boards covering the windows—"fire hazard" this and "illegal confinement" that. Cut crime off at the source, I say. But if that option wasn't available to me, I had other ways to skin a cat. Oh, you can't skin cats by the way. Police are practically domestic terrorists organizations, if you ask me.

The first thing you really need to do if you're going to oppose crime, assuming you can't acquire cool animal-like super powers, is a good intimidating costume. My wife, Ginger, came to my rescue with a fantastic military man outfit just in my size. As you realize, since children are not allowed in the military in this country, I cannot always find camouflaged fatigues in my size. Actually, if children were allowed in the military, I probably wouldn't even have to be out there doing this. But as I said, Ginger made me this snappy Green Beret outfit, only the beret is actually red. She made it for the bedroom, but I say it's good enough to wear outside. And you can see the fear creep into the teenagers' faces when I stomp up and down the block looking like a smaller John Wayne.

Knowing the streets is the first step in protecting them. Actually, the costume thing is the first step. But knowing them is important as well. I patrol these streets three to four times a night, or five times, if the infomercials are too boring. It's worked wonders, since I now know all the neighbors' routines and which have very fast dogs that will chase you away from their houses, even if you're wearing very stylish camouflaged fatigues. It's required paying dues, since my house has been robbed three times this past week while I've been doing my patrols, but nothing is won without sacrifice. Except perhaps Powerball.

Come to think of it, I could reduce the likelihood of being burglarized and speed up my patrol times if I had a snazzy bike to do my patrols on. I could get it done in, like, three minutes flat. I'm that fast. And I have seen a fantastic bike just like my old one laying out on the neighbor's lawn next door. It might just be time for me to confiscate a bike in the name of justice again. Until next time, fight the good fight, people.

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