mid reports of increasing U.S. casualties and slowed progress against Iraqi military targets, U.S. officials have made public assurances that the ass-rape of Iraq is proceeding according to schedule.

"U.S. Forces have penetrated Iraq's supple, moist labia of forces and are thrusting toward Baghdad as we speak," confided a disturbingly lusty Gen. Harold Jonas. "We're confident we'll have this bitch putting out by the end of the month."

However, critics of U.S. military planning, including several Gulf War veterans, have suggested that ground forces should have been fortified with at least one more big-dicked Army division before the attacks began.

"The U.S. is coming in like Frasier's wimpy brother Niles, when we should be coming in like Ron fuckin' Jeremy," confided retired Army Gen. Barry R. Wade, wearing a Fuck 'em all and let God sort 'em out tee shirt purchased at a recent gun show. "Frankly, I just don't see how this limp, flaccid attack force is going to strike ass-raping terror into the hearts of the Iraqis. The Iraqis should be wet with fear at the awe-inspiring sight of our throbbing, gargantuan member. Forces. Member forces."

When asked what in the hell he was talking about, Gen. Wade accused this reporter of being unpatriotic, and possibly homosexual. A long, uncomfortable silence followed.

Army Maj. Gen. Stanley McChrystal, vice chief of operations for the Joint Chiefs of Staff, assured reporters that the U.S. forces were doing fine as presently configured. "You'd be surprised, our boys are doing alright. We've presently got Iraq's skirt up around its waist, with some early reports of penetration. There's been heavy breathing around Nasiriyah and Basra. Iraq's firm, luscious tits have been thoroughly felt-up and it's only a matter of time before she's screaming 'America! America!' at the top of her lungs."

Asked to explain the situation without all of the dense military jargon, McChrystal looked confused for a second then made a vague "humping" motion with his hands and pelvis for the benefit of reporters.

"Besides," McChrystal added nervously, "the current U.S. forces aren't that small."

"The simple fact of the matter is, bigger is always better when it comes to the American military package," countered Gen. Wade with a slightly crazed look in his eye. "The military's current 'Motion of the Ocean' attack plan, based on superior training and battlefield intelligence, can never substitute for an all-out full frontal double-penetration. The whole works: Longjohn helicopter gunships, B12 Cockshocker missiles, Bradley Cherrypoppers… with that overwhelming military girth, Iraq would have no choice but to surrender to our rhythmic military maneuvers. Then that teasing bitch nation would get what's coming to it. Sure, there might be collateral damage to the panties of the region, but that's to be expected. As presently configured, we run the serious risk of prematurely ejaculating, militarily, before reaching Baghdad."

Before being allowed to leave his basement rec room, this reporter was obligated to bear witness to Gen. Wade's private collection of "military training" videos, which included brightly colored covers and titles like Bunker Busters, Operation Desert Sodomy and The Sexual Liberation of Kuwait.

.S. intelligence experts have raised questions as to the authenticity of a videotaped speech featuring Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein, which aired on Iraqi television only hours after missile attacks aimed at killing the dictator rocked a suburban Baghdad neighborhood. Iraqi officials point to the tape as proof that Hussein was not killed by the thousands of pounds of explosives that had been satellite-locked on his individual navel hairs in the attack, contrary to U.S. and British claims.

Intelligence analysts suggest that the man appearing as Saddam is actually Hussein’s double, a look-alike decoy known to be used by the dictator for certain unsavory public appearances and on particularly bad hair days. Off the record, at least one high-ranking U.S. intelligence intern believes the double to be none other than Saddam's little-known and slow-witted brother, Elmo Hussein.

Wearing a very silly pair of glasses and speaking with a slight lisp, the supposed Saddam spoke out Thursday morning against the U.S.-led attacks.

“Cookies, Cookies, Cookies. Saddam would like some cookies.�

CIA technicians began applying voiceprint analysis and other techniques to the video shortly after it aired. Early returns have been inconclusive.

“Lippety lippety lee, the bear climbed up a tree. When there was no porridge, he sucked on an orange and said ‘What a good boy is me.’�

“See the way he curls his lip when he says ‘porridge’?� CIA technician Luthor Retisma queried while pointing at a video screen. “Saddam doesn’t usually do that. He also usually doesn’t speak in such a sing-songy tone or pick his nose while the camera is running either.�

Iraqi officials vehemently deny the existence of any such double, claiming that Hussein has always spoken in nursery rhymes and was wearing the hilarious glasses because he forgot his contacts at a friend’s house.

“Whatever they’re alleging, that he got sand in his contacts or had an anvil dropped on his head or whatever, we’re doubtful,� explained an unnamed U.S. official, still bitter over not having a name. “They can come up with all kinds of creative ways to cover for Saddam’s idiot brother, but in the end technical analysis of the videotape will be the judge, jury and executioner.�

The unnamed U.S. official left the room before this reporter could ask what in the hell that meant.

As a result of Hussein’s first orders since the attacks, all Iraqi troops are to receive ice cream at once: two-scoop cones for ground troops and Neapolitan ice cream sandwiches for the elite Republican Guard.

“Well, there you go!� pointed out Iraqi ambassador Shamutz Gendal. “Saddam loves Neapolitan ice cream. Especially the strawberry part. I bet you feel silly about your silly theories now.�

Rumors of the supposed Saddam building a gigantic sand castle for his own protection could not be confirmed as of press time.

"Politics makes strange bedfellows, but sheep are surprisingly comfortable."

I heard once that you never talk about religion or politics with people, which sounds like a good idea 'cause that way they never know you're an idiot. Oh, they might think they know, and they may even tell you so, but they don't got no proof. That's what counts. So I try to stay out of politics. And public swimming pools.

It's amazing more people don't catch diseases from public swimming pools. All those people swimming around in the same lukewarm water with each other, spitting and blowing snot and peeing. It's like venereal soup or something. Which might not be too bad, actually, if you threw in some mushrooms. I love mushrooms.

I got tuberculosis or something from a public pool last year. True story. It's a good thing they have a cure for that now. I've just got to convince the doctor to give it to me, I think he's holding out just to be a dick. It's probably not even TB, he said I should go home and try to sleep it off for a few months and if it gets any worse come back.

I know a friend, Loomis, and he caught genital warts from a toilet seat. No shit. He got real pissed but the guy said it's his own fault for not waiting until he was finished before sitting down. Loomis is still waiting for that jackass to call him back.

It would really suck to have genital warts because then everybody would take a look at your hands and know you've been masturbating. Or touching frogs repeatedly. I don't know which is worse. I don't want everyone to know I masturbate. Sure, they can guess, but they have no proof. Those 7-11 security camera photos are way too grainy, that shit won't stand up in court.

I always heard if you get a sexual disease it makes your wang burn. But I say my dingle's always hot for action, mama. Then they slap me and say it's a free clinic, not a singles bar. But there's not much difference, I keep seeing the same people in both places, there's just more lights in the clinic.

If my schlong ever burnt from a sexual disease, I would just put some ice cream on it. Think about it—nothing can live in ice cream, it's too cold. Plus, chicks love ice cream. Actually, guys love ice cream, too. I'd probably lick myself down there if I had ice cream. Or if my back could bend that far. Even without the ice cream.

I wish my back could bend like that.

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