he entire Middle East got a warm fuzzy this week when leaders of Iran and Syria, two of the many points on President Bush's "Pinwheel of Evil," announced to everyone they were "best friends." Any attempt to attack one, the united leaders warned, would mean an attack on the other.

The announcement came shortly before a promise by Israel to "kick ass and take names" in Syria if the bombing of a Tel Aviv nightclub on Saturday could be traced back to the country. Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon held a finger purposefully in the air for a moment, with the pledge that, "Seriously, we are no longer fucking around with you guys."

On Saturday morning, however, before the news of the night club bombing (Great White have so far not been implicated), Syrian Prime Minister Naji al-Otari and Iranian President Mohammad "Oh, Mammy" Khatami stood together, arms around each other's shoulders, and announced to a crowd their nations were "best friends."

"Make no mistake: We love these fuckers," said Khatami, shaking buddy al-Otari quite forcefully. "Anyone raises their hand to strike my brother, it will quite honestly be the opening of a great can of whup-ass. I cannot wait to pound on the infidel who would come between myself and my bro Huge Naj. Or, for that matter, between any member of our country and theirs. The same goes true for us all, on both sides of the border."

"That's right," affirmed al-Otari. "No one puts a hurting on this bitch but me." The two party leaders then engaged in playful shoving on the platform, as the crowd of Syrian and Iranian nationals cheered them on and blew raspberries.

The thinly-veiled threat of retaliation against any country who strikes one or the other worried some analysts, who had been much more at ease with the notions of larger, more well-armed nations batting around the individual nations of Syria or Iran like flies. Together, the two pose a slightly greater threat, like batting around a flying pig or some airborne equivalent, but others reason that it remains to be seen whether the proclamation of friendship is so much talk.

Pentagon Defense Strategist Michael Compt elaborated for the commune.

"As an historian on the alliances of rogue nations," said Compt, "I can only wonder: What the hell were the voters on American Idol thinking when they kicked off Jennifer Hudson? However, this has nothing to do with my field of expertise. So I instead illustrate with historical examples how claims of unified fronts between countries have seldom stood up to real tests. One that comes to mind quickly, was the 'friendship to beat all' Cambodia had with Vietnam. True, both countries ended up going to war with the United States, but only after Cambodia loudly declared Vietnam has misrepresented its intentions."

For other examples, Compt also cited the "private club" effect when Germany, Italy, and Japan formed their original Axis powers, only to have the alliance fall apart quickly when the group eventually broke up over creative differences. Other noteworthy failed enterprises included when the Soviet Union declared China its "soul mate," only to have the two break up years later, when the Soviets accused the Chinese of being incapable of love.

"It's one thing if a country says it has your back in a fight when things are all Jim Dandy," said Compt, doing a little two-step with his feet to punctuate his point, "but really stick with each other through thick and thin, that's a hard thing to find. It's not the same thing as when two countries are really meant to be together, like East and West Germany. Sure, they have the occasional fight—but what they got, that's true nationalism."

olice announced Friday that they had apprehended a suspect in the murders of up to 10 killings, the notorious BTK killer, as DNA evidence may prove. The alleged BTK killer made no confirmation of his accusations, but did call national news media “fuck ups� who couldn’t even “get a simple three-letter name right.�

The suspect, Dennis Rader, blasted newspapers and television media for screwing up the killer’s chosen name since the earliest days of the first BTK victim. Between 1974 and 1986, or possibly even as late as 1991, the BTK killer (BTK standing for “bind, torture and kill�) compiled 8 victims, with two more potential victims being examined by police, and went through at least 6 public name changes as the media attempted to pigeon-hole the serial murderer.

Upon the death of the first four victims, an entire family, early pioneering journalists attempted to name the perpetrator “the Family-Size Killer.� When the next victim was discovered, three months later, the media hoped they had a serial killer on their hands, and dubbed him, “The Wichita Stabbing Strangler.� City officials glowered at the negative publicity, and demanded they change the name. Newspapers were in favor of “The Jayhawk Stabbing Strangler,� while news media won out with “Mr. Poky-Squeezy.� Upon the serial murderer being confused with a local birthday party clown of the same name, they changed his name again to “The Country-Fried Killer.� Around the same time, police confirmed letters being sent to them were likely from the perpetrator of the crimes, requesting the title “The BTK Killer.�

Even then, the news media fucked it up. A typographical error on the police memo lead to the killer being called “The BK Killer� for the rest of the year, and scared off many people from eating at all local Burger Kings. Other residents, who received their news from the radio, were misinformed about the “The DQ Driller,� and stormed area Dairy Queens to dig in to the new treat.

Angrier, even more irate letters arrived for the police and national media, all in caps, with the name “BTK Killer� underlined, and specifically noting the meaning of the letters in very contrary language. Some broadcast news outlets then, possibly on purpose, released the name as “The Beady Cake Killer.� Allegedly pissed off, the perpetrator sent even more contrite letters to police and the media, using some especially nasty words that rhyme with “rocksuckers.�

The BTK Killer continued to have trouble with his public name over the years, as media outlets alleged different meanings of the BTK notation, including “Bloody Tick Killer,� “Brown Taint Kicker,� “Bottled Tar Keeper,� “Billionaire Testicle Kruncher,� “Black Titty Kisser,� “Barmaid Toasted Kelp,� “Bunched-Toe Keds,� and “Blacula Tossing Kid.� Some even speculate the BTK Killer ended his string of murders when he did because he was sick and tired of being confused with Wichita tire merchant Birchfield Thomas Kinnear. This reporter was then asked to quit speculating and leave the police press conference if I had nothing worthwhile to contribute.

Suspect Rader did address the subject of the BTK Killer’s many names, while not admitting any connection to the murders themselves.

“Birchfield Thomas Kinnear? Please,� said Rader, in a statement released by Wichita police. “That makes no sense at all. If the BTK Killer was Kinnear, why the hell would… whoever he is… call himself that? If he murdered Kinnear it would make sense. And probably the only reason he wouldn’t have gone ahead and done that, not that he didn’t think about it, was he didn’t want to be forever confused by a callous, forgetful, illiterate industry of news people.�

Rader had been sought by police for questioning about the crimes, and was pulled over in a routine traffic stop when the police found his car parked illegally on the shoulder as Rader spray-painted the words “It’s Bind, Torture, Kill! IDIOTS!� on a Motel 8 billboard. The alleged murderer, however, refused to explain how the killer could stand having a name as redundant as the Bind, Torture, Kill Killer.

Seriously man, you're not messing with me? Why you think that girl was a hooker? She was nice, dog. Hey, just because she was nice to me doesn't mean she was a hooker! Damn. Girl even gave me her phone number. What kind of hooker does that, huh? You tell me that.

Yeah, I've heard that 867-5309 song. I know that shit. But that don't mean it's not her number. Think about it G, somebody's got to have that number for real, yo. They don't just put that thing in telephone number jail just because some fool wrote a song about it. Use your head, man. Lots of people got to have that number, if you think about it. Think about all the area codes out there. Each one's got an 867-5309, right? That's a lot of people with that number for real, dog. And why is it so hard to believe that some hot little honey hanging out on the street corner is one of them? Think about it, man, those odds are good.

Yeah, I saw her get into the car with that dude, so what? Maybe that was her brother or something, come to give her a ride or pick her up for church or something, right? I don't know who dresses like that to go to church, so what if the girl want to look good when she goes to see God and shit, right? If you go to church in a tuxedo some time I'm not gonna start telling people you're a lounge singer or something, you know? I ain't gonna be spreading no hate on your behalf just cuz you look good.

So what if he gave her some money when she got in the car, you never got money from your brother for something? I know you ain't above borrowing ten bucks, Luthor. She probably lent him the money, and he was being all prompt and shit about paying it back as soon as he saw her. That's a positive in my book.

Yeah, I saw that the dude was white. So what? You ain't got any white brothers floating around somewheres? You know how those mixed families go. Sometimes brothers and sisters don't even look like each other, sometimes one gets all the black while the other gets all the white. Happens all the time. Anyway, I didn't say for sure dude was her brother. He could be a cousin or something, or a business partner. Maybe girl is a school teacher, you ever consider that Luthor? Maybe dude was a parent giving her a ride to a PTA meeting or some shit. Or maybe she's a lawyer and he was some kind of judge or something like that, you know? You just know those peoples be giving each other rides to the courthouse all the time and that, like a carpool or something. No use wasting gas when you're all headed the same way.

Bitch sucked your dick? You serious? Man, why didn't you tell me that ten minutes ago? Shit. I been waiting on this street corner this whole time for nothing and you didn't even tell me. Man, you got to work on your arguing skills, Luthor, that's the kind of big gun you got to bring out early on, that's an argument-ender right there. You don't save that shit until the end like "Oh yeah, I just remembered this thing that totally erases the whole reason we was even arguing in the first place." Damn, Luthor. Yeah, you forgot. I'm gonna forget to call your dumb ass the next time I go out to wait on the street corner for some girl who I think ain't a hooker.

Yo, Luthor. How much that shit cost? Really? Huh. I think I'm gonna hang out a little longer, that ho might still come by. Later yo.

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