ormerly Canadian funnyman Jim Carrey surprised the easily-removed pants off of Hollywood this week with the revelation that burnout poster boy and O.J. trial superstar Kato Kaelin never actually existed, and was merely one of Carrey’s comedic creations. The news of this unprecedented ten-year hoax has left the world shocked, stunned, and shockastunnated.

The ditzy, bleached-blonde Kaelin shot from freeloading, couch-sleeping obscurity in 1994 after his wealthy patron, former football great Orenthal James “Breaking Up is Hard to Do� Simpson, murdered the hell out of his ex-wife Nichole and a helpful neighborhood waiter. Called upon to testify in the hit trial that followed, Kato captured the hearts of Americans everywhere with his surfer boy antics and vacuous charm. Few then anticipated that the inevitable breakup would come this hard, or this ten years laterly.

Testifying in an unrelated trial this week, Carrey claimed that he couldn’t have stolen Al Jolsen’s “ass-talking moron� bit since he was sleeping on O.J. Simpson’s couch the week Jolsen’s grave was robbed in 1994, which led to the unraveling of a raveled-up tale of confusing hoodwinkery the likes of which the world had not seen since that funny movie where the kids try to get their divorced parents back together through devious guile.

According to Carrey’s testimony, leaked to the press through a conveniently left-open window, he first developed the Kato character for the sketch comedy show In Living Color in 1992, but was rejected on the grounds that he was too creepy and that Keanu Reeves had already been doing him for thirty years. Undeterred, Carrey continued to develop the character independently, naming him Kato after a mistaken memory of the 70’s television program Kung Fu (whose main character was named Caine) and following the lead of his hero Andy Kaufman by traveling around Hollywood in-character as Kato during 1993.

Hoping to eventually spin the character into a series of Kaelin-centered gross out comedies, starting with the Yuletide fun of Kato Saves Kristmas, Carrey eventually found lodging with ex-footballer Simpson by a stroke of luck, since the Simpsons needed an unreliable layabout to watch their kids while they were off being rich. Not long after, Carrey was caught in a dilly of a pickle when Simpson decapitated his ex-wife and “Kato Kaelin� was called upon to testify.

Rather than paint his own career with the sickly stink of O.J. trial faddery, Carrey opted to ride that lightning for all it was worth, and the rest of the story went down in Access Hollywood history.

“This whole thing just got terribly out of hand,� mock-sobbed a repentant Carrey on the witness stand, barely stifling a serious case of the giggles.

While the possibility for a punishment for Carrey has been discussed, including a sentence requiring the comedic actor to write “I WILL NOT MAKE A MOCKERY OF THE AMERICAN JUDICIAL SYSTEM� 10,000 times on the courthouse chalk board, the consensus seems to be that many in the legal profession remain enamored of Carrey and his zany antics, and their fondness for his work in 1997’s Liar Liar may likely override any calls for indictments on perjury or impersonating a bonehead.

Ordinary Americans have yet to prove so forgiving. In the wake of the news’ breakery, angry consumers returned thousands of dollars of Kato Kaelin merchandise to stores, demanding refunds or at least a nickel off on that poster of the Madonna-Britney Spears lesbo kiss.

Strangest of all has been the reaction of Brian “Kato� Kaelin’s parents, who just this week finally calmed down from the O.J. hysteria enough to realize they’d never had a son.

But most visibly-upset has been Simpson himself, who in a televised interview from his Florida tax shelter Saturday expressed his deep feeling of hurt at his freeloader’s betrayal, and called for the courts to award $33 million in compensatory damages for his hurtedness, made payable to Fred Goldman.

ans of democracy were delighted to hear the form of government appeared to be working in Ukraine, a former member of the Soviet Union, though they were somewhat sheepish to admit it had been fairing poorly here in the United States, the oldest practitioner of democracy in the world.

On Friday, the Ukraine Supreme Court threw out the results of November's runoff election between Prime Minister Viktor Yanukovych, backed by the Kremlin, and opposition leader Viktor Yuschenko. Upon closer examination of the last names, Americans may realize these are not the same person. Meanwhile, in America, George Bush continued to smirk and make angry threats to the rest of the non-Western world as he eviled-up his cabinet with a few more additions. Challenges to the legitimacy of Ohio's electoral votes for Bush in November's election remain unheard as of press time.

Supporters of Yuschenko claimed the election was rigged in favor of Yunukovych, part of the current president Leonid Kuchma's administration. Yuschenko challenged election results in favor of Yunukovych in the Ukranian Supreme Court based on incidents of fraud in 8 of Ukraine's 25 election districts. The Ukranian Supreme Court agreed a possibility of fraud had occurred, and ordered another election to be held to decide the new Ukranian president.

During his first election in 2000, candidate George W. Bush claimed victory in the presidential election even as the popular vote demonstrated his loss and many districts were held up to questions of fraud or illegitimate results. The U.S. Supreme Court stopped the recount of districts in dispute, effectively handing the presidency to the former president's son and Washington insider.

Outgoing Ukranian president Leonid Kuchma described his country's predicament, claiming, "Ukraine that existed before the election no longer exists. It has been split up into two sides with absolutely opposite opinions." Once again, Kuchma was speaking about his own country, and not the United States.

American president George W. Bush, fresh from his own narrow and controversial victory in November, warned Russia not to involve itself in Ukranian affairs, stating, "Any election, if there is one, ought to be free from any foreign influence." Presumably all interference in a free election should come from groups of conservative vote challengers and election lawyers.

Ukraine's Viktor Yuschenko delighted in the country's Supreme Court ruling, as polls have him well ahead of his opponent in another election. Yuschenko said Friday, "Freedom and truth are returning to Ukraine following today's decision." Voters in America were at least pleased to finally find out where freedom and truth ended up after abandoning their own country.

When asked to compare the happenings in the free Ukraine and the recent elections in the United States, most people we asked were curious as to what the hell Ukraine was, while others asked us to leave them alone, as they desperately wanted to get home and watch a Tivo'd episode of The Apprentice they've been saving all week.

Strangely enough, it seems at least one person who isn't rich has benefited from the election of George W. Bush—that person is me. Make no mistake, politically, I am on the left and voted for Kerry, who is already fading from the memory like the name of that band that did the "Mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm" song. But the election of Bush, as much as I hate to admit it, helped me, because Red Bagel failed to show up at the appeal hearing last week for my "indentured servitude" case, due to his barricading himself away from humankind in his bunker, and the judge actually ruled in favor of yours truly.

What does this mean? I'll cut to the chase: "Free at last, thank God almighty!" That's right, my torturous time at the commune has come to a close.

For the quick summary, I worked here once, left quite happily, then made the mistake of writing a thinly-disguised off-off-Broadway play about my time here. Bagel sued, I lost, and I couldn't pay all the odd "emotional damages" I was sued for, so in one of those creative sentencing deals, I came to work at the commune. Not happily, and not without plans for escape. Friday my escape became reality. I turned in my resignation to Gay Bagel, serving in his A.W.O.L. brother's stead, who said he was sorry to see me go. I called him a fat-headed penny-pincher who is out to turn every good thing, and bad thing, in the universe into an immoral profit.

It's all part of my "let's burn my bridges on the way out" policy. That's right, I'm leaving, this time for good, and wanted to make sure I never come back by finally blowing my stack at this inept bunch of geeks and freaks. Promote Raoul Dunkin, will you? Two can play the name-calling game.

First off, my friend Lil Duncan, of no relation to me. Lil, everyone knows you've had every man in this office—even Stigmata Spent, who is definitely a man—yet I'm apparently too good-looking, too normal, or possess no hideous body parts like Ted Ted's tiny wings, so I'm not good enough for your bed. Or your chair, your desk, the area under your desk, your kitchen, your apartment hallway, Bagel's desk, your parents' bed, my desk, or any of the other numerous places you've danced horizontally. So to hell with you. And everybody knows you stuff your bra more than Stigmata does.

Ramrod—I know just where that rod's rammed. You're a miserable tight-ass and all your business ventures fail because everybody, including the God you don't believe in and your own mother, hates you. I don't fear reprisal from your "evil twin" either because I live too far on the other side of town, and you can't afford the bus fare on what they pay you here.

Ted Ted… you're short. There, I've said it. If you're thinking of jumping me as I leave work tonight, you angry little fairy, I warn you right now I'm packing a flyswatter. Bring it on, I say.

And let's not forget Bludney Pludd… oh, too late. Actually, Bludney, I think you're a decent, if pitiful, member of this staff. I'm leaving some spare personality in my wastebasket when I leave, I don't need it anymore. Feel free to scrape it out.

My friend Shabozz Wertham, I'm going to say something truly devastating to your African-American pride: The Internet was invented by Al Gore, the world's whitest man. I don't care how many documents you provide, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar had nothing to do with it.

Ramon Nootles will stick his dick in anything that moves, and quite a few things that don't, if he hasn't scored in a while. You're the best reporter here, now that I'm leaving, but you still report about as well as I do after a case of beer and five whiskey sours.

Boner Cunningham masturbates, and no one here will admit it. He's doing it right now, pretending to do a chalk drawing of Ivana Folger-Whatever. And she knows exactly what he's doing—I can hardly say anything more incriminating about her than that.

As for her ex-, Mr. Nacutchacokov—Bagel's never going to bring you home. Just accept it.

I realize I'm leaving some of you out, and take that as the final insult—in an office full of pure abnormalities of human existence, you don't stand out well enough to be mentioned. And I save the finale for my lovable father figure and arch-enemy, Red Bagel himself. Red, you are a spectacular douchebag. You haven't ever come anywhere near the truth with any of your theories—if the truth were a fart, you couldn't even sniff it, that's how determined the truth and you are to avoid each other. I would wish death upon you, but it would rob me of the joy of seeing this little two-bit operation fold without my talents.

As for you, commune reader—I've got no beef with you. You've already suffered enough. Good-bye, so long, and see you nevermore.

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