ollowing last week's landmark sodomy decision that opened the door for Americans everywhere not to be white Christian fundamentalists, onlookers have waited with baited breath for the other shoe to drop as the Supreme Court passes judgment on the controversial topic of gay marriage. That shoe came sooner than expected yesterday, when the high court handed down a ruling that many anticipated but few wanted to admit: "Yes, marriage is really gay."

"Marriage is like, something chicks invented to make sure guys don't have any fun," explained Justice Anthony Kennedy in his majority opinion.

"So you're saying I've got to support you financially, pay for a bunch of foofy-ass furniture I don't want, raise some snot-monster kids who live to piss me off, and I don't get to have sex with anybody else no matter how fat you get? Oh yeah, that sounds like a great deal. Sign me up and point me toward the polo shirts," sneered Justice David Souter while miming the jerk-off motion with his hand.

"I was going to get married once, but then I decided to just slam my balls in a car door and call it even. Best call I ever made," boasted Justice Breyer, sitting down gingerly.

Justice John Paul Stevens nodded in agreement. "Friend of mine got married once. They said it was Vietnam that screwed him up, but I for one know better. His wife was into collecting those little beanbag animals," Stevens shook his head solemnly.

The lone dissenting opinion was voiced by Justice Antonin Scalia, who spoke meekly from the bench.

"Hey, I like being married. It's fun to talk to my wife about what kind of sink we're going to put in the downstairs bathroom, again and again, for hours until you don't care if you live or die. And to hang out with my wife's asinine friends from college, that's a blast," asserted Justice Scalia, starting to cry. "Anyway, when I was younger I found single life to be overrated, I really did. Always getting to do whatever I wanted, staying out all night, having my own ideas…" Scalia trailed off as he got a far-away look in his eyes.

"Plus I think there's something in the bible about getting boils on your ass if you're not married by the time you're 30. Ugly stuff. It's in there somewhere, I swear. Enjoy life at your own peril, single sinners."

Uptight religious groups everywhere spoke out against the decision before it was even handed down, not wanting to miss an opportunity to start some shit.

"We will not stand for this attack on the sanctity of marriage," threatened Rev. Lee Harden-Stroker, president of the one-man To Heck with Gays Coalition of some godawful place called Hucknuckle, Texas. "Next thing you know them liberal judges gonna rule that church is boring or that closed-minded fundamentalist dogma drives a wedge between people while failing to address the spiritual needs of its followers in any meaningful fashion. And them's fightin' words."

"Sure, being married isn't much fun, but nobody said life was supposed to be fun," explained Tyner Allaboy of the Concerned Christian Men's Club. "Show me where the word 'fun' appears in the bible. Ain't there. It's God's plan for men and women to grow emotionally distant from each other, raise ungrateful children and spend our weekends fixing the damned rain gutters again and again."

"Just think about it," concluded Allaboy in a flourish of inspiration. "If God really wanted us to be happy, would he have put our mouths so far away from our privates? Try and argue with that."

he launch of the national “do-not-call� registry was met with overwhelming demand last week as millions of Americans proved willing to crawl over their own dead mothers to sign up for the list, hoping to end years spent in unsolicited telemarketing hell. The unexpectedly high turnout seemed to answer the standing question of public support for the new law, which had been attacked by telemarketing groups as an infringement on their rights to free speech and practicing utter contempt for consumers.

President Bush signed the bill in March, commenting on the legislation at a White House ceremony last week.

“Unwanted telemarketing calls are intrusive, they are annoying, and they-hold on. Hello? No, goddammit! I don’t read the newspaper, fuck off!�

The new law gives the Federal Trade Commission the power to fine telemarketers up to $11,000 every time they call a number that appears the opt-out list, beginning Oct. 1. Consumers who weren’t confused into inaction by having to call a do-not-call hotline to make sure other groups do not call them voiced their approval of the law, and personal enthusiasm for finding additional ways to curb telemarketing in the future.

“You see, what I’d do now, first I’d stab ‘em right in the jimmy sack with a fillet knife,� caller Randy Hackle of Dilmont, Nebraska explained to a switchboard operator. “That’s just to get their attention, mind you. Then we’d open up a new forum for communication with a ball-peen hammer and some broken ceramic tiles.�

“Our research has indicated that most consumers appreciate being notified by telephone of the latest deals and special purchasing opportunities,� said smug Direct Marketing Association representative Tony Marsh, just begging to be kicked in the fucking nuts. “This unconstitutional law is a political witch hunt and we don’t for a second believe it reflects the will of the American public.�

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about killing telemarketers,� explained caller Christophe Williamson after registering his cell phone number with the directory. “Okay, well yes, actually I am. But what I’m really talking about is what we’ll do with their bodies after we kill them. That’s what really sends a message.�

In spite of such an overwhelming public response, many telemarketers remain steadfastly oblivious to popular sentiment, almost as if they weren’t really listening at all and were just waiting for a pause so they could tout the virtues of their practice.

“If we don’t have the right to approach consumers unsolicited, people will be deprived of potentially valuable offers that they would otherwise not hear about,� offered telemarketer Mark Finch in a dehumanized monotone, wincing audibly as a car backfired outside his window. After jotting down the unsolicited quote and questioning where he got the commune’s telephone number, this reporter hung up after Finch refused to take a hint that the conversation was over.

The new law has thrilled anti-telemarketing activists nationwide, who have been fighting the trend for years using both legal and quasi-legal guerilla tactics.

“My main hobby is getting these people’s home telephone numbers, and calling them at home,� bragged anti-telemarketing pioneer Sylvester Pinks of Tehachapi, CA. “Every hour on the hour, all through the night. Then I play back recordings of their mothers having loveless sex. That stuff’s not easy to get your hands on, true, but it’s all worth it when you hear their reactions. Especially on speakerphone with some buddies over and beer. Talk about Miller Time! Class-ic.�

It seems like you can't open an unrealistic women's magazine or go game hunting in a daycare center these days without hearing about the nation's weight problem. And it's true, America's been packing on the pounds like a newlywed in Wisconsin since the late 1970's. Why didn't we hear about it until now? Thanks to thinning vertical stripes going out of style a few years ago, we're just now realizing how fat all of our friends and neighbors really are. It's like a Viet Cong of fat ambushing us in the jungle. And the current fashion trend toward Hamburgler-style black and white horizontal stripes certainly hasn't helped, amplifying girth that needed no help and creating a big fat optical illusion at the same time.

But how can a nation seemingly so obsessed with fitness and unattainable standards of beauty also be so hilariously, belt-snappingly fat at the same time? In order to understand this paradox, we must take a look at how America's diet has changed in the last thirty years, the era when America went off its diet like a berserk funnycar and decided nobody could tell it not to drink fat through a straw.

Not long ago was the day when the nation's diet consisted mainly of grain, potatoes, and gas station ham sandwiches. Though not exactly the fish-rice-seaweed trifecta that kept the Japanese wafer-thin and efficiently evil for years, it did well enough and the only fat people back then were those who vaingloriously attempted to live on gas station ham sandwiches alone. Even those fat individuals were a tiny minority, however, since most Americans assumed there must be something in the bible against that kind of thing. Americans did drank a lot of beer, but anybody who tells you beer makes you fat is trying to sell you Lite beer.

Over the years, as technology advanced and Americans sought out new and exciting ways to supplant missing parental love, people began to eat more and more processed foods. Which is industry jargon for remaindered textile wastes and ground up Frisbees. Convenience, plus the thrill of eating something out of a brightly colored box like Crackerjacks used to come in, led to a larger and larger proportion of the American diet consisting of food-shaped industrial byproducts. And as Americans came to demand more convenience, food processors began to shy away from using any actual foods at all, which start to taste funky after being vacuum-sealed in a Mylar bag for three years. By the mid-80's, most of the food Americans were eating consisted mainly of ground carpet remnants coated in flavorful lard. Which sounds awful until you hear what they put in dog food.

The fast food industry accelerated this process, serving up colorful fat-delivery vehicles devoid of depressing nutrients and vegetables in portions big enough to satisfy Uganda. Americans couldn't buy it up fast enough, falling hard for the food-like entrees and pleasantly fabricated environment, a place where The Man wasn't hassling you about eating fiber all the time. The various fast food chains went to great lengths to lure glazed customers their way by offering everything, including napkins, with bacon, and coating the handrails and table tops with a thin layer of rendered cow fat that was absorbed through the skin.

Of course, other factors besides diet have contributed to Americans' booming waistlines. High tech stretch fibers being built into clothes have made being fat more comfortable than ever. In addition, television remote controls, home video pornography and the abolition of sidewalks have nearly eliminated conventional exercise from the average American's daily life.

Perhaps the biggest symbolic blow to a thin America, however, came when Marlon Brando showed the American people that even the beautiful and talented can fall on a fat grenade and blow up like a microwaved marshmallow, so what chance does the average shlub have to stay thin? The sound of French-fry crunching surrender could be heard all across the land, a whisper that has grown into a deafening roar in our current "what the hell" national climate. But is there any hope for a thinner future?

Are you kidding? The only vegetable Americans will eat has to be soaked in oil, fried, and then dusted with pulverized beef balls before it can sneak into our stomachs. We're screwed. Fat and screwed. Sleep tight.

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