he Tuesday polls have closed, the ballots are still being counted, but estimates make the outcome clear: California has lost the recall election.

California voters turned out in record, ignorant numbers Oct. 7 to make their confused voices heard, and the answer was a resounding, "What's this all about again?" As voters chose to recall Gov. Gray Davis, elected only 11 months earlier, and replace him with female-violating, Hitler-loving pure beef slab Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Not that a truly inept politician can't ruin an entire political system in less than a year. The current president only needed 9 months before the world as we knew it fell into a shitcan. And Gray Davis, described by friends as "a necessary evil," probably deserved a good pink-slipping. But to replace the deviously crafty with the hopelessly out-of-their-league, a trend already set at the presidential level, left California in the position of the biggest loser in the U.S.

Early estimates show the recall winning by 55%, with Schwarzenegger leading the recall candidates by a sizable margin. Among the opponents not just doing it for shits and giggles, Lt. Gov. "Tom" Cruz Bustamente, Sen. Tom McClintock, apparently not the character from the John Wayne movie of the same name, and a Green Party candidate who pushed a referendum where new ballots were cast with hemp. Schwarzenegger's 7,000+ votes over the next nearest candidate was called "overwhelming" by some overly-excited reporters. After all, here is a difficult foreign name they already know how to pronounce.

McClintock conceded happily to his fellow plus-sized Republican, calling it a "great day for California."

"In response to a common danger, the people of California rose to their duties and ordered a new direction for our state," said the well-rehearsed GOP mouthpiece. The message on that direction couldn't be less clear: We want the dumbest, most sexually-excitable candidate who runs a chain of failed over-hyped restaurants to do for us what he did for The Last Action Hero.

The white media, plagued with their fascination with celebrity, lauded the Schwarzenegger victory in many subtle ways, some calling it a "Hollywood ending." Leaving one compelled to remind reporters Dr. Strangelove and Taxi Driver had Hollywood endings, too.

Exit polls showed many voters disappointed with the failure of Gray Davis to mend California's budget problems during his 11 months in office. "It's not like the whole country's in a recession here," said one angry voter, drooling on this reporter's tape recorder.

The results of the California recall do little to surprise most pollsters, who predicted the election weeks in advance with their preemptive announcement of recall results beforehand. When asked what features they were looking for in a state governor, most Californians cited a vague understanding of the problems afflicting the state, poor pronunciation of English, and having appeared in at least one horrible Batman movie.

In a concession speech, Gray Davis called for everyone to "get behind" the governor-elect. What Davis neglected to add, but surely was thinking, was either that, 1, you could then proceed to push him off a cliff and into the Pacific Ocean, or 2, he's a big guy and you'll need the shade when the air conditioning dies after every power grid goes out, you fickle yellow-bellied traitors.

Schwarzenegger's new lieutenant governor, a bronze bust of former president Ronald Reagan, could not be reached for comment, as it's incapable of speech.

elevangelist and all-around Christian doorknob Pat Robertson was on the defensive again this week, claiming that his recent quote "We should blow up the State Department" was taken out of context by the media to indicate that he thought we should blow up the State Department.

"Maybe we need a very small nuke thrown off on Foggy Bottom to shake things up like Newt Gingrich wants to do," Robertson said during a "700 Club" interview with journalist Joel Mowbray.

"I can't state strongly enough how much I disagree with this idea," said emphatic department spokesperson Richard Boucher. "I think the very idea is despicable. I feel very strongly about this. No. I vote 'No'."

"It's just a terrible idea," added spokesperson Ron Lilly. "I mean, good luck getting your hands on a nuke that small."

"When I suggested previously that we nuke the State Department, many took this to mean I advocate the destruction of the U.S. State Department by way of planting a nuclear device in their Foggy Bottom headquarters," stated Robertson in his public retraction. "Nothing could be further from the tr—No, wait, that's right. What is everybody so upset about again?"

While State Department officials are nearly unanimous in their opposition to the plan, the American public thus far seems largely indifferent.

"The State Department? What do they make, license plates?" questioned hairdresser Roger Darland. "Fuck it, nuke 'em!"

Military experts find Robertson's plan intriguing, but not without its share of flaws.

"It would be exceedingly difficult to nuke the State Department without causing significant collateral damage to other parts of the government, given their geographical proximity," observed military strategist and gaming nut Noam Stewart. "Not that I'd be opposed to just nuking that whole circus, mind you."

Stewart also pointed out that Robertson's suggestion that "maybe we should cut off all of their dicks and put them in a blender," would likely be vetoed by the president and any other empathetic penis-havers in higher government.

The State Department, which oversees U.S. foreign policy, has come under fire from conservatives in recent months for coddling authoritarian governments in the Middle East and proving to be too lax in its visa program with Saudi Arabia.

"Robertson's comments were despicable, and irresponsible," lisped department spokesman Boucher. "Especially considering the highly-impressionable nature of our president. He doesn't always know when you're joking, even if it may seem obvious to us. President Bush is much like a Golden Retriever in that way."

Okay, so it turns out that movie I did over the summer was a hardcore porno. Who knew? Just goes to show you, I guess.

I probably never would have even found out if it weren't for my dad watching it in the living room while mom was hosting her book club. One of the ladies, Ms. Priscilla, pointed at the screen and said, "Oh my goodness, Bunny, that looks like your daughter!"

Of course I jumped to look, thinking it was Cassandra. It wasn't too likely, but dad likes a lot of girl-on-girl action, and Cassandra probably loves to participate, I supposed it was possible. But it was me! No kidding, I was the one in the porno. Boy, was my face red.

I did so many movies over the summer after I got rolling in the low-budget sci-fi movie biz it was probably just a matter of time before I wound up in a porno. You're going from house to house, one shady basement after another, step in front of cameras, guys give you scripts (or "gist" the scene to you) and you ad-lib for a couple minutes. Then it's out the door, you got a comic book cover to shoot or an E! True Hollywood Story on Emmanuel Lewis interview to do. Turn around you're in Spread Eagle 4 and you don't remember anything about it.

It's important to know how movies work, if you're a layman or laywoman, and I don't mean the kind of laywomen in the porn movie itself. I mean ignorants. It's not like you go to script meetings, create a "character" for yourself, spend minutes or even hours rehearsing, and then shoot the thing. You're not there for hours watching everyone else work so you know how to play your scene. I mean, some workaholics and shit do that, but not real movers and shakers like myself. You step in, do some crazy stuff for the camera, and then let them fix it in editing. It's not like you ever expect to see the movie again.

So in that perspective, yeah, it's easy to end up in a porno. Directors just tell you all the stuff line-by-line. "Go here, say these lines, sit down here, take your top off, kiss that guy, say these lines, get on the floor," whatever, stuff like that. You have no idea what they're going to use it for, the context or nothing.

Not that I was doing anything like that in Spread Eagle 4. I was just playing a secretary who dropped off a file in Dick Thick's office. I walk in while he's got some secretary bent over the desk and he looks up and says, "Hey, you know my secretary, Clarissa Coleman, from Who's Your Daddy?" I didn't know they were actually doing anything, you know, penetrating. They were good actors, or I thought they were.

It was used all out of context in the film, too. When they used my scene in the movie the girl was on top and they were on the coffee table, and he said, "Hey, it's Clarissa Coleman, from Li'l Poachers!" Which makes no sense. I said, "Cool! I've gotta go," which wasn't a line but something I really said. Totally ruined the real scene, shitty editors. And they always cut to the guy's face during the money shot.

When I think about it, it does kind of piss me off they didn't ask me to be in the movie, you know, doing stuff. I'm sure I'm hot enough and I keep in pretty good shape for someone who doesn't exercise. They probably thought I had too much class, and I can't blame them for that.

Now that I think about it, I don't think I got paid for that movie at all. I could be in for some serious cash, if dad's reaction is anything like the average pornophile's.

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