iting a moral obligation to use all quasi-legal means at his disposal to protect the sanctity of heterosexual marriage against any and all potential dangers, President Bush used his State of the Union address last Tuesday to call for a preemptive strike against the future threat of gay marriage. In the speech, Bush suggested that since the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled last year that a ban on same-sex marriages was in clear violation of the US Constitution, the clear answer was to amend the Constitution and take out the part where fags can get married.

Conservatives, still upset about the 1967 Supreme Court decision that struck down state laws banning interracial marriages, applauded Bush's medicine ball-sized cajones. Meanwhile, all remaining Democratic candidates whiffed at the issue completely, knocking over the T-ball stand. Off the record, however, one candidate whose name rhymes with "you thin bitch" pointed out that despite his grave concern for the state of this sacred institution, Bush made no mention of other, more widespread threats to the sanctity of marriage, including spousal abuse, astronomical divorce rates and Britney Spears.

"I've taken it upon myself the responsibility to halt the crusading of activist judges who, I might remind you, were not elected," Bush paused for a moment during the speech for his point to sink in. The effect was not what the president had probably intended, however, since none of the assembled reporters were sure if by this he meant that judges weren't reflecting the will of the people, or if Bush was attempting to appear smarter by comparing himself to a judge, since he wasn't elected either.

"I think we might have to have a look here at that Constitution," Bush commented wryly, staring down his nose through an imaginary pair of glasses. "And make sure the founding fathers didn't sneak any other unpatriotic bits into the fine print."

When asked later if he thought the American people should vote on the contents of the Constitution every year, to prevent the document from ever conflicting with contemporary mores, whims or prejudices, President Bush pretended a large bug had flown into his ear and he couldn't hear nothing.

Vice President Dick Cheney, put in the hilariously ironic pickle of having to support an Anti-Gay president while not appearing to squeeze one on his lesbian daughter Mary, chose his words carefully. "Uuh… gay is good. Unless you think it isn't. But I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole. All people should be treated with respect and dignity. But we also shouldn't allow the fine institution of marriage to be sullied. Not that gay people are dirty. Can I go now?"

"All people are equal in God's sight," Bush announced charitably. "But let this be an example to the unpatriotic peoples in Europe and elsewhere who say the United States thinks it is God. We know where to draw the line on who gets to go heavily into debt while bowing to social convention, even if God doesn't."

Before being wrestled into a van by his handlers, Bush made vague mention of a proposed CIA program to weed out gay moles inside traditional marriages. While it is not clear how highly this threat to national insecurity ranks on the President's to-do list, most observers conclude it is likely nestled comfortable in-between "catch Saddama bin Laden" and "watch Ultimate Fighting Championship."

n another self-critical apology on national news, Vermont Governor Howard Dean tried to cheer up teary-eyed Democrats by letting them know, once again, he was sorry he yelled at them last Tuesday.

“Clearly, I was in a bad mood, or at least it seemed like I was in a bad mood,� Dean spoke slowly, in his lecture tone on Friday’s CBS Evening News With Dan Rather. “I want to make it known again, I was not yelling at you. I was just having a bad day.�

Blubbering Democratic and fence-riding undecided voters have chastised Dean, along with his supporters, for an almost human display of emotion following his third-place finish in the Iowa caucus last week. The candidate, previously holding a fair lead over other Democratic presidential nominees, has since appeared on every national media outlet except for the Food Channel and Screw! Magazine to let everyone know his yelling should not mistake him for being an exciting candidate.

“Understand,� Dean continued later, on NBC’s Later with Carson Daly show, “sometimes, you and your campaign people put a lot of work into getting your message out there, and it only helps you come in third in a state full of corn-chucking sons of—I’m sorry, sorry. Again, I’m not mad at you, Iowa. I mean, you can probably go and hand the thing to Bush right now, if you want, but—I apologize. I’m getting off message. I’m just saying, John Edwards? Isn’t he the guy that talks to dead people? How does John Edwards beat me? Tell me that and I’ll shut up.�

Dean’s efforts to apologize haven’t wavered since Tuesday’s outburst. He again tried to amend his statements and not go ballistic Saturday on M-TV’s Punk’d, with Ashton Kutcher.

“Sometimes I get a little riled up. I’m only human, or 80 percent human by-product, and I get mad sometimes. Like when Ashton made me think my car had been crushed into a cube—that was pretty funny, dude. But when I lost my temper, it wasn’t because I couldn’t take a joke. And that’s what the Iowa caucuses are, after all, right? Big fat jokes. John Edwards beats me, yeah, like I’m so sure—sorry. I’m losing my focus. What I mean to say is, sometimes, we candidates get mad and we fight with each other. But we’re not yelling at you, Democratic voters. It’s not your fault. Unless you’re from Iowa—lousy little outhouse right smack dab in the middle of America—�

Despite repeated outbursts on other news shows, Dean managed a reserved manner on Saturday morning’s Flatbush, New Jersey cable access show, 4 a.m. with Boner Cunningham.

“We’re taking lumps on this one, true, but it’s not distracting us from our campaign. The problem with this country is George W. Bush and a wayward administration, and we’re taking that message to the New Hampshire caucus, and people are responding. The Iowa caucus was a disappointing setback, but the New Hampshire caucus will show my campaign hasn’t suffered. I admit, I’m not a perfect person. I am capable of getting mad. Like when you introduced me as ‘that weird yelling guy’ on your show, or when you asked me if my statement of having ‘warts’ meant they were on my genitals. You think it’s funny, but it’s just the kind of thing that might send me into a rage if I weren’t so focused on the upcoming caucus and—look, you little shit, the word is ‘caucus,’ there’s nothing funny about it. Quit sniggering before I come over there and give you something to wail about.�

Needless to say, this reporter didn’t, and the governor did. We can safely say I think the commune has found a candidate worth endorsing.

I guess I'm not top dog here at the commune anymore. They got a new dog. Which sucks for me 'cause those chicken livers were about the only source of protein I get in a week. Dry, chewy, but good.

That's sort of the explanation for why I haven't been writing as much lately as I used to. That and I got fired from my regular toilet brush job. That big gay Bagel Gay Bagel told everyone to cut some of the deadweight around here and everyone thought of me first. Which is nice in a way. But that way doesn't help me any, since I'm out of a job. It worked out nicely for them because Gay got a real plastic toilet brush as a gift for Christmas from people who didn't like him, so the office has one of their own. Two people doing the same job, one doesn't ask for any pay and doesn't short out the office electricity trying to build his own lightsaber, so you do the math on who gets fired. Me, I mean.

Not like it's the first job I've been fired from. That was helping my dad fix the car. I wasn't working for real pay there either, even though I tried to hold out for a hug or something, but you could never hardball dad. I would stand by him while he put the lugnuts in my hand, at least that's what he said they were. Then he heaped on more work, making me look for a 9/16th wrench out of the toolbox and then yelling at me when I told him he didn't own a toolbox. He said it was a trick question, just to see if I could think independently. And I could, and he didn't need that in his employees. Then he was attacked by a lemur and I never found out if he got that car fixed or not.

It doesn't bother me to get fired from a job if I screwed it up somehow. It doesn't even bother me to get fired from a job I was doing really good. I imagine—hard to prove that one, I guess. What really steams my beans is getting fired from a job I didn't even have. I slept in a McDonald's for three weeks one time and they finally found me when they cleaned out the grease trap, and I got yelled at real bad and they fired me and I didn't even work there. I would have told the guy so, but you know. The grease in my mouth and all.

But besides all of that, I suppose I'll still talk to you all once in a while. I got woke up one day by a call at the Long John Silver's grease trap and it was Red Bagel, asking me where my column was, it was a month overdue. I told him I didn't work for him anymore and he called me a slacker. If I knew what one was I would have argued with him, but he gets away with insulting people by thinking up big words for insults. So he said it was no excuse for not doing my column. Sampson L. Hartwig has to write one still and he's been dead for more than a year, is the story. Well, no one's going to compare me in a bad way with a dead person. So I'll get that column done and turned into Red Bagel, Mr. Smart Insult Ass, as soon as I can think of something to write. If you come up with anything, let me know here at the commune.

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