merica’s nuts were chapped a bright red this week with news that former FBI second-in-command W. Mark Felt, 91, had come out of hiding to end a 30-year mystery, announcing that he was Deep Throat, star of the semenal porn film that took the country by storm in 1972.

Americans from all walks of life gagged at the news and the sight of Felt, who has aged poorly since his starring role as the sex kitten known for her plucky personality and propensity for swallowing rod all the way down to the balls.

Despite lacking establishment distribution or any tangible evidence of a script, the 1972 film Deep Throat was a gigantic hit, inspiring excessive repeat business from about a dozen guys who couldn’t get enough of the erotic “art film.� Even a lawsuit from the Sword Swallowers’ Guild over the film’s title couldn’t slow the movie’s success, and it went on to gross over $600 million in musty theaters nationwide.

Over the years, “film buffs� and conspiracy theorists have debated endlessly over Deep Throat’s identity, concocting a long list of likely suspects including White House counsels John Dean and Fred Fielding, speechwriter Pat Buchanan, and Nixon chief of staff Alexander Haig, who colleagues admit looks particularly fetching in a halter top and g-string bikini.

For readers who vomited during that last paragraph, hope remains that this could all be one big misunderstanding. Some have suggested that Felt wasn’t Deep Throat at all, and is merely a sad old man grasping at his last stab at fame before he kicks it. Though such strange sex fantasies coming from an old man may strike some as unlikely, in fact it is not an unusual syndrome, as can be documented by Dr. Nikolai Balsvet of the McClurg Institue.

“Many older gentlemen Mr. Felt’s age have a tendency to confuse porn with reality,� explained Balsvet. “They often re-imagine their lives as tawdry purveyors of humiliating sexual excess, cum-dumpsters, cock-hungry hose hounds drooling for shaft, feeling no shame in their fevered pursuit of raw Johnson.�

“It’s not unusual for a man of Mr. Felt’s age to mistake his life story for that of a dirty slut who spent her life begging for smoking hot man missile,� agreed Dr. Lou Morales of the mail-order clinic. “Most elderly men go through a similar phase. I’ve based my entire practice just treating geriatrics who think they were Traci Lords.�

Industry insiders confirm this trend, pointing out that the 40-year reunion parties for most porn films are attended by more elderly former accountants than they are dried up post-hotties with silicone bags bouncing off their sneakers.

“Back in my day, I couldn’t get enough of the dong,� explained retiree Elmer Bainbridge, purported female star of the 1964 porn epic Muffin-Stuffin’ 3. “I was insatiable,� added Bainbridge, coughing up something wet and abundant into a handkerchief.

Felt’s family is standing behind the former FBI official in spite of the controversy.

“I love my dad regardless of whether he’s a delusional old fart or a former gutter-slut blowjob queen,� explained proud daughter Joan Felt to the media. “Those are all just different sides of the man I call dad.�

he state if Indiana executed convicted murderer Gregory Scott Johnson last week, continuing the state's long-standing tradition of executing men with three names, despite the condemned's requests that he be allowed to donate his liver to his ailing sister before the execution. Gov. Mitch Daniels denied Johnson's request on the grounds that it was creepy.

"Who would want a killer's liver?" asked prison warden Brad Foulke. "Yuck. The last thing we need is some horror movie bullshit where an evil liver turns this girl into an unstoppable killing machine. No thanks."

After hearing that the state of Indiana had offered to buy Johnson's sister a dinner of liver and onions as a symbolic way to apologize for wasting the one inside her brother, fans of morbid humor were disappointed to learn that Johnson was executed by lethal injection, rather than by some cooking-related method.

"It would be kind of funny if he'd been electrocuted," explained Indiana Pacers fan Brett Amrow. "Because then they could have served his liver all cooked up with onions and stuff. I'm not sure if he'd have to eat the onions first or have them surgically implanted or what, I don't know how the science of it works. I mean, yeah, I know that's gross, but you ever try eating liver without onions? Yuck."

The controversy surrounding Johnson's execution has touched off a national debate over whether or not condemned prisoners should be harvested for organs to save the law-abiding. Johnson, convicted in 1985 of stomping an old lady to death, burning down her house, and eating her cat's food, was the rare case of an inmate volunteering to offer up his lousy guts to save another human being, though skeptics have suggested it was just the beginning of Johnson's plan for a piece-by-piece escape from prison.

"The state of Indiana issued me a mandate to kill Gregory Scott Johnson for what he done, and that means every last piece of him," explained Indiana governor Mitch Daniels. "I'm not to leave no part alive, not a liver, not a little pinky finger, to survive a man who's done such things. That just wouldn't be fair to his victim or the victim's family if Gregory's liver lived on in his sister, saving her life and mocking their tragedy forever. And that's one slippery slope to go down, because where do you draw the line? What about a killer's brain? I'm sure somebody could use that somewhere. And that would be totally wrong, an evil brain turning some good person bad. Or even put in a jar, eviling up a lab somewhere until the technology came along to mount that jar on a cyborg body that couldn't be stopped even with bullets. Now I don't know many things, but what I do know is that unstoppable killer cyborgs is not what the people of Indiana were hoping for when they elected Mitch Daniels to office. Not most of 'em, anyway."

Though many doctors have suggested that Johnson's organ would have been useless to his sister anyway, since his was a 44DD size liver a her original just a petit B-cup, the larger question prison officials are asking is if it's ever right to give a condemned prisoner what they want, or if that defeats the entire purpose of punishing them. This question has grown in recent years with the rise of "reverse psychology" stays of execution for condemned prisoners who claimed they wanted to die, forcing states not to kill them out of a fear of appearing to coddle prisoners. Similar efforts by prisoners begging to never, ever be let out of prison have not yet had measurable effect.

That's right, you read the title. Health food is one of the three biggest scams foisted on this country since World War II. The other two were communism and World War II. Communism? Never existed. I mean, give me a break people. An entire nation of folks deciding to give up their personal stuff for the common good? What did they do next; sing a song and all fly up to heaven on wings sprouted out of their asses? I'll believe in communism when you point out to me the first guy standing on a street corner handing out ten-dollar bills who isn't a politician or a guy who believes in the wide-net method of finding a hooker. Not going to happen.

And World War II? Even less plausible. So the entire world went to war after some mousey little German who looked like Moe from the Three Stooges decided he wanted to run the show? Right. Sorry folks, I just don't see it. Maybe if they'd thrown in some charismatic Eurotrash bad guy or George Clooney, I might have put a bid in on that bridge. But not they way they paint the story. So let me get this straight, the Japanese bombed us? The JAPANESE? At least get your facts straight, guys, the Japanese don't use bombs. They use karate. You tell me a story about a bunch of ninjas swimming to Pearl Harbor and chop-sockying some ass, maybe then we can talk. As it is, I give your history a thumbs-down.

Now the latest thing is this health food noise. Since when is there unhealthy food? Food is food, get over it. I'm sure there are some unhealthy things you could possibly eat, but I'd hardly call them food. Rocks, uranium. Maybe light bulbs or little bits of metal, that probably doesn't go down so hot. But you show me a guy calling that stuff food and I'll show you a glory hound gunning for a spot in the Guinness Book. If you can eat it without shitting blood, I say it's fair game.

I mean, think about it. If God didn't want us to eat chickens, why did he make them run so slow? And cows? What in the world else are you supposed to do with a cow? They sure as hell can't catch a Frisbee. If we didn't eat cows, getting anywhere would be impossible, since there would always be a big, stupid cow standing in the way, refusing to move or acknowledge any understanding of basic English. Eating cows was a fact of life in the old days; sometimes you had to eat three cows just to get down the road to check your mail. Eating cows is our natural survival reflex.

And what about dogs? You don't eat dogs? Neither do I. Never mind.

But all this noise about fat being bad for you is the biggest crock of them all. Eskimos eat nothing but fat and they live to be hundreds of years old. Either that or they all look the same and I've been offending Eskimos for years by calling them all by the same three names. I'll look into that and get back to you, it may explain all these dead fish I've been getting in the mail lately. I thought my nephew had signed me up for that Fish-of-the-Month club again. Now I may need to take back what I said about his mother.

A funny related story: A few years ago, one of the food giants created an ingredient named Lofat to fool health-conscious yet lazy and gullible consumers. The ultimate irony was that Lofat was actually high in fat itself, since it was made from the sweat glands of a North Atlantic Fat Whale. But those health nuts never knew the difference: it tasted horrible, so they all figured it had to be good for them.

Not that I want people to stop eating health food. Keep it up, kids, that leaves more real food for people like me to have an evolutionary advantage. I'll see you in the mutated future, fruitcakes.

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