urveys tell us around 5 in every 5 Americans is single, divorced, widowed, married in unhappy relationships, married and swing, or married and lie about whether they swing or not. That makes for a lot of people trying to find the right person out there, and keeping their significant other from finding out about it. In some major markets, for busy single people or adulterers on the move, “fuck and run dating� has become the hippest way to meet Mr., Ms., or Mrs. Right, and her sister.

It started in New York City as a gangbang gone weird, but “fuck and run parties� have sprung up in other major urban markets as a way for couples to get together and speed up the meeting process for people who haven’t found the person they want to be with yet. As Valentine’s Day approaches, more people than ever are signing up for fuck-and-run dating.

“People love it because you spend less time getting to know someone and what makes them compatible or incompatible,� said Mitzy Horowitz, a single art gallery owner who has been hosting fuck-and-run parties since 2002. “With fuck-and-run dating, you compress months—sometimes even years worth of a relationship into a few hours. Or as Grandma Horowitz used to tell me, ‘You never know if someone’s going to fuck you over until they fuck you over.’�

That’s precisely what fuck-and-run parties are all about. As Horowitz describes, it’s a socially acceptable environment for what is traditionally called a “one night stand,� and which I call the weekend. Copious amounts of alcohol and drugs are made available to party guests, which gives them all the excuse they need to cut loose and hit the sack with someone they just met. But fuck-and-run goes beyond the awkward sexual encounter, since after the sex, instead of going to sleep, the couple is then encouraged to hash out their relationship issues and guilt and confused intentions immediately following intercourse. Cuddling gives way to shouting, foreplay becomes guilt trips and insinuations, and sometimes, the more astute fuck-and-run dater can jump straight to “I love you, but I’m not in love with you.� Months that might have been spent turning love into emotional issues is covered in a few short hours, leaving more time to search for someone not out to just fuck you over.

Nicole Wesley, a partygoer since December 2004, praised its way of building relationship experience.

“Before I started coming to fuck-and-run parties, I spent six years dating two different guys,� said Wesley, waiting on the couch for the next party to start. “Both of them turned out to be real losers—one a jobless dopesmoker, the other a real controlling macho shit. Since I started fuck-and-run dating, I’ve met three different guys—all complete pricks. But I did it in a two-month time span, and really compressed the emotional suffering to a short time. I can’t believe how much faster the miserable experience of meeting the wrong person can be!�

Men, too, are enjoying the ease of speed-breaking-up.

“Within about twenty minutes of making out with this beautiful girl, she went totally fucking psycho on me,� says NYU college student Gopher Grass. “All I was doing was checking the messages on my cell phone and she accused me of sleeping with someone on the side. I was like, damn, that was fast! I mean, five of the girls I’ve dated have gone psycho on me, but it took weeks or even months sometimes. I knew within twenty minutes I had made a bad fucking choice for a relationship mate! That’s what a matchmaker dating experience should be.�

Rough estimates say fuck-and-run dating has a 100% success rate—no couples have continued dating since the parties began, but all have happily broken up and been glad not to have wasted more time on the futile pursuit of love with someone clearly wrong for them. And there’s more innovations on the way—party hostesses like Mitzy Horowitz are already at work on weekend getaways to simulate seven years of stifling, soul-crushing marriage.

mid rampant speculation that either Vice President Dick "Dick" Cheney or presidential brother and hick-state governor Jeb Bush might run for the Republican presidential nomination in '08, current president and term-limit victim George W. Bush has shocked a sleepy and dispassionate nation with the news that he plans to run again in 2008. Though Constitutional scholars and small children both agree that this should be impossible, Bush assured a gaggle of reporters on Sunday that he does indeed have a plan.

"You guys worry too much! Relax, take a nap, I've got it all worked out. Sure, the George Bush you know and have elected to president some number of times is running up against that tired old 'term limits' bugaboo. But under a different name, or after just changing a few letters in my old one, I think I should be able to sail right through the system just fine. Wink, wink."

(The president actually said "wink, wink" here, rather than actually winking. We don't know what the fuck that was about.
-Ed)

"I used this same idea to sign up for the BMG CD club seven or eight times," continued the president. "Trust me, it works. Whether you're voting for Georgie W. Bush or G. Walker Busher in 2008, you'll know the score. Sure, George Bush is a name you've come to know and trust over the three terms that a president has had that name. But why not give Jorge Bosh a chance? He's got some familiar policies, he looks like a president, and he's got the taste adults have grown to love. He's grreeeeeeat!"

At the end of his statement, Bush punched the air like a famous cartoon tiger, greatly worrying most everyone in the room. The president's remarks were met by a stunned silence from the crowd, and a lone, confused request for "Freebird."

When asked what he thought of the president's chances of pulling off such a daring standing broad jump over the U.S. Constitution, Constitutional scholar and commune vending machine restocker Dennis Kurd refused to change the subject away from who had been using a glass cutter to steal Baby Ruths off the bottom row.

commune Answerbot Griswald Dreck was more helpful, taking a break from an intense Joust battle with mail clerk Lefty Gomez to address the legal ramifications of Bush wiping his ass on the Constitution.

"This is a classic case of seniority, open and shut," explained Dreck. "The 22nd Amendment to the Constitution has been going strong since it was ratified in 1951 to finally get rid of FDR, who had been elected sixteen times in a row, four of those after he died. Voters were also concerned about being bored by presidents who might keep un-retiring hundreds of times like Michael Jordan, except they didn't know who Michael Jordon was back then, so they said Wilt Chamberlain. Most think this Amendment to be unstoppable, but one must also consider the other hand, which can fill up with shit fast. George Bush has been doing whatever the hell he wanted to since 1946, a full five years before the 22nd Amendment was even suckling at its mother's paper titty. Fate, gross incompetence, and common sense all appear powerless to end his streak, so I say he takes the Constitution in four rounds. Place your bets now and avoid the lines."

Analysts remain undecided about what effect a third Bush term might have on the nation's fragile liberal population, thought to be currently living in denial, or caves. The nation's humorists, however, have already begun gathering support for a new anti-term-limits Constitutional Amendment to protect their precious golden egg-shitting goose.

My life was a horribly small, dark, petty place, let me tell you. I was a shell of a man—worse than a shell, I was a magic shell, hardened by the cold ice cream of the world, and quite delicious, filled with nuts. I forgot what I was saying. Oh, yeah—my life was pointless and full of tragedy. That was before I met Melinda. And after I met Melinda, too.

Melinda was my girlfriend. What a day that was. Everyone said she was just using me to make her boyfriend nauseous, but I don't believe them. She was pretty mad when she said it, too, so I don't believe her either. I met her, both of them, actually, when I was working as a safety bar for an amusement park roller coaster. It was tough, but I got to ride for free all the time. Now who's the jerk, Mr. Big and Mighty Safety Inspector? I didn't see you ride one of the rides while you were closing the place down.

But in them halogen days, when I first caught a sniff of Melinda's perfume, I knew she would one day be my girlfriend. And then break up with me later that day—trust me, I know my luck by now. Doesn't mean I give up on love. I fell for Melinda hard, right off the top of the roller coaster, and she was the only one who came to see if I was alright. When she had safely removed all the money and metallic items from my pockets, she called for an ambulance. But I got up and skipped out before that, I ain't paying for no ride when you can sneak into a tire well and ride free. Before I left, though, I let Melinda know I was keen on her with an obscene gesture, and told her I'd be around the fair—I had no place to live, so I had to keep walking so as not to get busted.

Fate intervened later because I was picking up shells at the fair's shooting range (not much pay, but it tightens your reflexes for being shot at) I saw her fighting with her boyfriend two stands down, at the ring toss. I took a break and decided to hang close by, hoping I could nuzzle up close to her and leave my scent—my flirting skills ain't all that, maybe, but you always can tell when I like a woman. Then she surprised me, because she grabbed me by the head and gave me a big kiss. It was a shock, believe you me. I'll always remember what she said—"If you're not serious about setting a date, then maybe I'll just marry any retard that comes along!" It cracked me up. I love it when someone says "retard."

But it was not to be. Her boyfriend apologized immediately and they went out to get shitfaced, at least that's what I overheard. Still, I'll always have the memories. And her purse. She didn't notice that. I didn't want the money, of course, just the souvenir of my fiery Parisian romance. At least I think it was Paris. It could have been Austin. All Texas looks alike after awhile.

Valentine's Day rules. One of these days I'm going to spend it with someone who willingly spends it with me.

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