pparently feeling that the current national climate is as ripe a time as any for a complete break from any recognizable form of reality, the National Rifle Association is attempting to buy a television or radio station this week, in hopes of declaring itself a news organization exempt from spending restrictions in the campaign finance law.

"We're looking at bringing a court case that we're as legitimate a media outlet as Disney or Viacom or Time-Warner or any of those places," explained Wayne LaPierre, the NRA's own version of commune whale tampon Raoul Dunkin. An uncomfortable silence followed after this reporter stopped laughing.

According to LaPierre, the NRA is one of the biggest magazine publishers in the United States, with an impressive stable of nearly a dozen publications, including "American Rifleman," "Patriotic American Hunter," "Gun Nut," and "Buck-Naked Beer-Swilling Bitches."

Since the NRA has such extensive experience bringing news to the mullet-wearing portion of America's magazine-buying public, LaPierre argues that the NRA should enjoy the same political benefits enjoyed by organizations with less-embarrassing member ranks.

"I defy you to convince me that the NRA is any different from those organizations, just because they actually have news departments and wear pants around the office," said LaPierre, himself clad in pajama bottoms adorned with a machine-gun pattern. "We're just as legitimate a news source as any of them are, even more so when you consider the way they ignore the obvious gun angle in everyday stories." LaPierre further argued that paranoid gun freaks have as much a right as anyone to be represented in the media, but this reporter can't be sure of the exact quote as my notes just contain a doodle of a cow shitting on a scale for this part of the story.

The NRA's latest moves can be seen as a sign of the times, as there have been few periods in history when a lobbying group would so boldly admit to circumventing campaign reform legislation in hopes of buying influence in next year's elections.

Historically one of Washington's most powerful and twitchy lobbies, the 4 million-member NRA has spent millions over the years supporting pro-gun candidates. Since the organization is financed with corporate money, under the campaign finance law of 2002 it is currently banned from running ads mentioning candidates by name during the two months preceding a general election. News organizations are exempt from such restrictions, allowing them to cover the news and follow elections without being accused of shilling for political candidates.

Convinced that the NRA is capable of such impartial and unbiased political coverage, LaPierre promises that the NRA and its lawyers will continue to fight this attack on their "First Amendment rights," possibly even going so far as to broadcast pro-gun ads from ships anchored in international waters at election time. Another uncomfortable silence followed after this reporter stopped laughing.

ccording to Columbus residents, in spite drawing considerable national media attention the recent series of fourteen unsolved freeway shootings over the last few months are business as usual for the southern Ohio city.

“The media likes to make a big deal out of this because of those Black Panthers or whatever it was shooting up the gas customers in D.C., but they’re just looking for something to sell,� explained lifelong resident Tammy Kennedy. “Actually this year’s not as bad as normal, I got shot three times last year. But I think that was partly because I was driving a red car. I sold that car and got one that blends in better with the road this year.�

“The thing you have to understand is it’s hunting season,� said Columbus mayor Richard Freebing. “That always plays a factor. If this were happening in July, that might be cause for alarm… unless there had been a gun show recently. Then it would still be normal. Or if the Bengals won or something. But any time of year it happens. Once you strip away the media hype, all you know is that people get shot in Ohio. That’s it, big deal. So we’re not too worried about it. You have to accept that everybody gets shot, it’s just a fact of life.�

Ohio transport authorities closed a section of Interstate 270 Saturday night to perform ballistics tests in hopes of returning the bullets to their rightful owners. The 20-mile stretch of highway between I-70 East and I-70 West was closed from 5 p.m. EST to 7 p.m. EST Saturday, according to Chief Deputy Steve Martin of the Franklin County Sheriff’s Department. The closure was made necessary so investigators from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms could take ballistics measurements while the road was clear of cars and gunfire. He said the work needs to be done at night but would not elaborate.

Unnamed sources for the commune, however, indicated that an escalating series of boasts between ATF agents had led to the necessity of the testing being done in pitch black, by blindfolded agents who had their hands tied behind their backs. Representatives for the ATF denied these allegations, explaining instead that the timing was for safety reasons, as field agents believed they’d be harder to shoot at night.

Thus far the 2003 Columbus shootings have resulted in only one death, that of 62-year-old Gail Knisley, who was hit by a stray bullet while she was shooting at a passing motorist who had cut her off in traffic. However, several abandoned buildings have been damaged in the shooting spree, and a local duck is listed in critical condition.

Though local residents believe the shootings are linked only by falling into the “stuff shot in Ohio� category, they have not been immune to the national media attention. Local police have had their hands full in recent weeks, fielding dozens of complaints from residents who want to be a part of the media circus. Sunday, a woman driving near the southern section of I-270 heard a noise and found she had a flat tire, according to police. No bullet was recovered in that incident, but the paint on the car was scratched and there were several “bullet hole� decals affixed to the driver-side door of the vehicle.

Early Monday, a home bordering that highway in the city of Obetz was struck by a bullet. No one was in the residence at the time, Martin said, holstering his revolver and whistling at his own impressive marksmanship.

I am the last person anyone would call a homophobe, given my highly litigious nature, but I admit I am not comfortable with the thought of two men acting like two women together. Which is exciting. No, the two-man thing isn't my thing. Still, I say live and let live, especially for me, and whatever you do behind my back is fine with me. Or in front of my back. It's hard to say which is less unsettling with this particular subject.

So I am not "cool" with manly love, that's my business. I don't know why people find it so necessary to make everybody know all the details of their little private life. Ick. And if they find out you're uncomfortable with gayiety, trust me, they only want you more. The gayists, that is. At least, that's what I suspect this is all about. Mario still says it was the kiss of death, but I can't be sure.

The "Mario" in question the head of the Lambito family, the person Camembert and I met with last week to seek an end to all this senseless death, which I of course caused. To everyone's great surprise, things went better than expected. Mario and I took an instant non-homosexual liking to each other, finding we had many things in common, like our diminutive stature and making fun of Camembert's paralysis. Not only did we largely end the mob war, we became the best of friends.

I was so glad to see the mob war come to an end, if for no other reasons I was tired of getting thank-you cards from the FBI. They claim I took out more gangsters in two weeks than 50 years of RICO statutes, but the FBI is known for their sense of humor, maybe they just thought it funny. Regardless, even without the saving of so many innocent-until-proven-guilty lives, the event seemed a blessing just for making the acquaintance of Mario. Never have I heard so many tales of death and mayhem told with so much laughter. His charm was quite infectious, like the hot tub rash we shared.

True, we did share a hot tub, and went shopping for clothes together, and we saw a few theater plays. I did not take it that we were "dating," but maybe Mario got the wrong impression. I tried to steer things to more manly sorts of things, like working out at the gym or going hunting for endangered animals. It was no good. Like fate was drawing us together, every plan I came up with eventually left us either naked, sweaty, or alone together in a tent on a moonlit night. I'm not afraid of my own feelings, but I worry even a straight man put in that situation might find me irresistible.

It was becoming too much for me, so I had to tell Mario I was only interested in him as a friend, in case he was starting to develop feelings. Plus, I was married. Experimenting sexually with another man when you're single or merely engaged or have recently gotten rid of your wife is one thing, but you can't betray your marriage vows. It was a complicated scene, to say the least, made all the more complicated by the fact some of my gangmembers chose that night to whack Mario's brother, the next in line to head the family. Apparently that was why they borrowed the key to Mario's log cabin from me, but when I pieced it together out loud it only made things worse.

And that was when Mario laid the kiss on me, which freaked me out to new levels, and as you know, good people, I'm no stranger to freaking out. I tried to reaffirm how ungay I am, but Mario insisted at that point it was the kiss of death. I suspect he was just covering, though I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

So the war is back on, with gusto. Still, a few hundred dead mafioso or one sweet man's broken heart—what's the greater casualty here?

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