Bush Appoints Richard Pryor to Appeals Court

lipping through the governmental system of checks and balances like a greased hog, President Bush used a recess appointment to bypass a Senate filibuster in appointing comedian Richard Pryor to the 11th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals on Friday. Bush defended the appointment by explaining that the Court of Appeals hasn't made him laugh in a good, long time.

Bush praised Pryor as "this really funny black guy" who was sure to be a hit with his fellow justices. In addition, the president expressed bewilderment that Senate Democrats would want to block yet another of his appointments, commenting that he thought everybody liked Richard Pryor. "Hey, this is fun," responded an elated Bush when given word that Pryor had been successfully installed.

The recess appointment was Bush's second since Senate Democrats mounted successful filibusters to block the president's last five appeals court nominees, including stuntman Evel Knievel, Hollywood actor Russell Crowe, Yankees shortstop Alex Rodriguez, famous child psychologist Dr. Spock and the cartoon character Fat Albert. Following his unsuccessful attempt to have the African-American animated character installed in the court, Bush used his first recess appointment to add soulful latina singer Gloria Estefan to the circuit court last month.

Senate Democrats defend their filibuster tactics as necessary to protect the President from himself, explaining that they shouldn't be viewed as a personal vendetta against a president who thinks he can appoint whoever the hell he wants to the nation's courts.

"Look I love A-Rod," confided Senate Minority Leader Tom Daschle. "That guy can hit the piss out of a baseball. But I'm just not sure he belongs on the appeals court."

"At least he exists," interrupted Sen. Charles Schumer, D-New York. "Remember back in 2001 when he wanted to appoint Gandolf and that guy who was Sylvester Stallone's trainer in Rocky? Jesus Christ."

Bush appointed the comedian and actor despite suggestions that Pryor might be physically unfit for the position, given the debilitating effects of the Multiple Sclerosis from which the comedian suffers.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," explained Bush. "He's probably just making it all up to have a good laugh at us. That guy's hilarious."

This latest appointment is expected to have a positive effect on the president, who is said to be in down spirits since the death of "Spotty," the White House dog, last week. Though the dog came with the job, Bush had become especially attached to the canine over the last three years, and hoped to pay off the dog's lease in order to take it with him when he left the White House. Though he's not sure of the exact clause involved, President Bush expressed confidence that his renter's agreement states that the White House now has to get him a new dog. He's hoping for a Pomeranian or a golden retriever that can do tricks.

purred into action by San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom’s issuance of marriage licenses to over 3,000 gay and lesbian couples over the last two weeks, California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger took the opportunity at the state’s Republican convention in Burlingame to grunt something about the controversial topic of same-sex marriage.

Though no one present at the convention could understand the governor through his thick Austrian accent, many believe Schwarzenegger’s statements to be against homosexual marriage, given his body language and the way he shook his finger disapprovingly while making the “buttfucking� gesture with his hands and pelvis.

In addition to these cues, when Schwarzenegger’s comments were met with a confused silence from the convention crowd, the California governor went on to spend the next five minutes struggling to pronounce the word “illegal� in a way that was intelligible to English-speakers.

Several possible translations of Schwarzenegger’s statement have been offered by various news organizations, not the least of which has been the commune, with some help from in-house action film expert Omar Bricks.

“Men are not for marrying other men,� translated Bricks, from a tape recording of the governor’s series of guttural moans and awkwardly rounded syllables. “Men are for friends and for having sex if you are too muscular and powerful for women’s bodies, who snap like twigs and have spines that shatter from your powerful pelvic thrusting. But men are not for to marry. They cannot cook good and are bad for sewing shirts that rip from bulging muscles. For this I am glad for my wife Maria who is like sewing and cooking machine, and for friend Steve who has haunches like a racehorse.�

Republican leaders across the country insist that Schwarzenegger’s statements had to have been in opposition to same-sex marriage, since the man is a Republican for Christ’s sake. Others also pointed out the governor’s obvious need to physically compensate for a lack of inner self-esteem, making support of homosexual causes unlikely, and the fact that the man comes from a foreign land where they hunt gay people for sport.

“I don’t think Arnie would support fags getting married,� stated Republican sensitivity poster-boy Orrin Hatch, pondering the inner nuances of a man who has spent the majority of his life focusing on ways to make his muscles bigger. “Fuzzbumpers maybe, that could be hot. But not two guys. After all, the dude’s from Austria. They cook gay people in soups there, from what I hear.�

President Bush also expressed his opinion of Schwarzenegger’s likely opinion, explaining that it was clear from the movies that both Douglas Quaid and the Terminator believed that marriage was a social contract to be entered into only by one man and one woman. In elaborating upon his own opposition to gay marriage, Bush also explained that he’s found intercourse with a woman to be enjoyable both times he has attempted it.

Should Schwarzenegger’s position on same-sex marriage be determined by Ouija board or some kind of “stomp once for yes� communicational system in the near future, it could spell trouble for Mayor Newsome of San Francisco. Though Newsom may have the state Constitution on his side, he’s unlikely to have enough bullets to stop Schwarzenegger if the governor is mad enough or scripted for a bloody finale.

It is high time, as a teller of uncomfortable truths, I admitted one of the most obvious: the commune sucks. Or perhaps I should clarify that working at the commune sucks. The distinction might be thought important by some.

Shit you I do not, as Yoda might say. I admit my role in working at the commune has changed several times over the years, and more often than not I am a background character, like the old man who hung out at Cheers, but when brother Gay loomed his large, smarmy head in a few months ago and made a play to take over the publication, I put my nose to the grindstone and basically skinned the hell out of my nose. I worked extra hard, 24-7, 24 minutes of every hour, 7 hours a day, and this shit was not for me, sir. I am not made for a 7-hour work day. I don't know how everyone else here manages the five they do.

I will accept I perhaps have it better than some others, since I own the whole shebang, at least if I can keep Gay at bay, and I receive all the profits, should we ever make any. But it does not change the fact work completely sucks. The severe sucking nature of work cannot even be disputed at this point.

When I started the commune, or changed it from a quarterly Indian reservation newsletter to an alternative news publication, I only wanted to spread as much of the truth as I saw it as I could fit onto the back of pamphlets lifted from teen centers and free clinics. It was fun then, before I had a staff, a budget to be concerned with, and deadlines to heed. I sometimes wish I could go back to those days. Me and Sully, experimenting with mind-expanding medicinal herbs while I wrote my first column about how the 1969 moon landing was just an elaborate Tonight Show sketch aired out of context. Before I had snippy copy-editors knocking on my door to tell me I misspelled simple words and spilled bongwater on all my pages.

Gay Bagel, of course, challenged the commune to show profit as part of his new job as Ulterior Motive Manager, Class VII, and I thought the natural solution was to do what we do that wasn't showing a profit more often and at greater expense. So I took the commune to a weekly schedule and included extra pairs of irregular-fitting jeans as an pay incentive every week. All that has done, it seems, is give me more work to do. Gay doesn't know the first thing about publishing an alternative news website—have fun! The second thing being, of course, never malign Carol Burnett without ample photo evidence to back you up. But the first thing has been completely lost under Herr Bagel. Herr Bagel being Gay, instead of me, for once.

These days I'm in the office up to six days a week, instead of six times a month with the old commune management style. In a way, I suppose I feel I have to answer to Gay now when before I had no boss, I was able to just hang out in my office whenever I felt like it, pants or no pants. After all, if I don't show a major increase in profits, meaning make a profit of any type soon, he'll resume his legal battle to take over the commune again.

Bah. If I had half a brain in my head, which my staff is quick to assure me I do, I would let him have the damn commune. Dig Sully out of those boxes I packed him up in and light up the peace pipe once more. Go back to the old desktop publishing guerilla-style journalism I started with.

Still, I suppose things aren't all that bad. After all, if I can reach one reader, inform him of the deadly conspiracies and hidden injustices of this world, all my work has been worth it. And according to last month's website statistics, we finally successfully reached that one reader.

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