isaster-relief officials in New Orleans made a stern announcement today to the thousands of celebrities descending upon the devastated city in hopes of providing humanitarian aid in exchange for career-boosting photo ops: We’re serious; you really need to leave now.

“We’ve got to get these fucking celebrities out of New Orleans,� sighed an exasperated Lt. Mark Bolio of the Army’s 92nd Airborne. “They’re drinking up all our bottled water and bitching about the catering all day.�

The influx of famous faces has weighed as a heavy burden on officials who have spent the last week scrambling to get everyone out of the city-shaped deathtrap. Receding water levels have exposed a nightmare world of toxic contamination, with nearly the entire city soaking in deadly levels of E. coli bacteria, lead, crude oil, PCBs, asbestos, leptospirosis, battery acid, herbicides, raw sewage, DDT, snakes, and according to at least one local, cooties. After busting a nut trying to remove the bulk of New Orleans’ stubbornly entrenched locals, many of whom refused to leave their pets or belongings, the Army was not prepared to deal with the celebrity occupation.

“We had this one crazy old lady who wouldn’t leave without her million cats, so we had to drown all her cats in the back yard,� anecdotalized Pvt. Jeremy Pankin, animal lover. “I mean, that is, all her cats drown in the back yard. Yeah.�

According to officials, 95% of the people now remaining in New Orleans qualify as celebrities, with the jury still out on John Stamos and a few others. Most are reportedly taking turns rescuing each other from various perilous locations around the sunken city.

“Thassa haw nyaom flawn dawg,� drawled local plumber Cornell Hughes, possibly speaking about the celebrity situation in New Orleans. “Shaw golla farn myaw.�

Oscar-winning actor Sean Penn, 45, has drawn the most attention after arriving last week with his entourage in a boat that immediately sank, despite frantic efforts at beer-cup bailing. Reports are unclear as to whether Penn was here to help the locals, or if he was rehearsing for his role in an upcoming Woody Allen comedy.

“When you see people in trouble on TV, as a celebrity you can’t just stand idly by,� explained singer Harry Connick Jr., who like every other jazz musician, claims to be from New Orleans. “That’s why I’ve been here for the last few days, walking around and telling people I’m Harry Connick Jr.�

Other celebrities either rescued or ejected from the city by the National Guard this week include Fab Morvan, formerly of Milli Vanilli, rapper Flavor Flav, the Dixie Chicks, Leonard Nimoy, radio personality Dr. Phil, the Oak Ridge Boys, Paul Reubens, Sista Souljah, writer Stephen King, the entire Mormon Tabernacle Choir, tennis pro Ivan Lendl, Sting, actor Mickey Rourke, and three members of the alt-fluff quartet the Cardigans.

R&B singer Macy Gray wisely decided to give the highly toxic and in all likelihood instantly carcinogenic city a wide berth, instead volunteering to hand out t-shirts and condoms to refugees at the Astrodome in Houston.

“You kiddin’ me?� questioned Gray when asked about her decision. “That place is like the Chernobyl Water Park. I wouldn’t even drive past that state with the windows down. I already got curly hair, you know?�

Meanwhile, Fox crews have been on hand in New Orleans all week to film a new reality show based on the celebrities’ and locals’ exciting efforts to sneak back into the watery grave that used to be their city. According to network officials, I Forgot Something! will premiere on Fox later this fall.

EMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency, proved itself unprepared for the post-hurricane situation in Louisiana, and now will have to prepare itself for an even more deadly assault on its reputation. The publicity disaster follows reports in The Washington Post and other media outlets that FEMA fem and director Michael Brown may be less than qualified for the position he holds. Federal agency historians are describing it as possibly the worst media-related catastrophe to ever strike the organization.

Damage to the agency's character hasn't been fully assessed, but early estimates predict anywhere from one to five careers may be permanently injured or even extinguished. Early signs of the disaster's effects came when the White House reversed its original "FEMA good" public statements for the more critical "FEMA can do better" statements of recent days.

The fallout comes from public outrage over the slowness and inefficiency of relief efforts in the wake of the hurricane Katrina disaster and the extent of destruction from floods in the Louisiana area. As the outcry increased, media outlets investigating FEMA Director Michael Brown uncovered sources who say the director may have misrepresented his qualifications or been misrepresented by people in the administration. Some are accusing the administration and Brown's supporters of making him the director because of his work on the Bush campaign, rather than his experience with disaster relief—not that the Bush campaign was unofficially a disaster, but such a designation doesn't put it on par with the flooding of New Orleans.

Last week, the president commended the FEMA director with a resounding and dignified, "Brownie, you're doing a heck of a job." Quite a contrast to the administration's more recent admission the relief efforts were going abysmally slow, and Thursday's remark by the president, "Brownie, get your shit together. Quit dragging ass and get 'r' done or we're gonna shitcan you."

But some are asking, given the degree to which Brown's resume may have been misrepresented, if the FEMA director shouldn't be shitcanned already. With the poor relief efforts attracting media attention and adding lead to the president's always-precarious approval rating, Brown was removed from his on-site duties in the relief efforts. Such an action may precipitate Brown's stepping down from his position to make way for some other Bush crony with slightly more experience.

Reports surfaced this week that 5 of 8 top FEMA officials, including Brown, had little or no previous disaster relief experience, and at least 3 played vital roles in the Bush 2000 election campaign. Director Brown himself cited only one disaster-related job, allegedly overseeing disaster relief efforts in Edmond, Oklahoma, but sources now say the job was closer to "administrative assistant" or "intern," or in the common parlance, "little bitch" to the real boss.

If Brown is asked to stepped down from his role at FEMA, some are already anticipating a quick appointment by the president for his old supporter. Insiders at the White House are talking about the possibility of a Federal Emergency Public Relations Agency (the less-interesting acronym FEPRA), who will need someone to run it with the kind of publicity disaster experience only this most recent crisis can provide.

Let's get started. I don't have all day. If I did have it, I would probably charge for its use. I'm thinking $4.50, $5 ought to do it. Not outrageous, but enough to clear a healthy profit.

I have recently taken to wearing hats. And we are no longer a hat-endorsing culture, I remind you. So if you see me on the street, applaud my actions. I mean it. Seriously, applaud. Very loudly, and with whistles.

Ever notice how there are movie-grade celebrities, and then there are TV-grade celebrities? In movies, you have Tom Cruise. On TV, you get Matthew Perry. Every once in a while you'll see an ambitious star claw his way up, like George Clooney. Or you'll witness the sad decline of one star washing up on TV shores, like Geena Davis. Where does that leave Paris Hilton? I'd say straight to video, but I have more class than that.

It just occurs to me I never received any gifts at all on Christmas morning, 1993. God, no wonder that morning went by so slow. I knew something was askew.

What time is it? Drinking time! It's always drinking time, when you have alcohol.

If it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it down. This applies to any packet gravy you can get your hands on it.

It seems like only yesterday I was a bouncing young boy with his future laid out before him. If it was really yesterday, I had one hell of a growth spurt. I'm seriously worried if it's still going on, because I could be dead before I'm done with this column. But more than likely it was just time seeming relative to me again.

If I could have only one thing given to me, I would like a gun. Everything else I could then get myself.

I have but one rule to live by: If your teeth are turning black, it's time to start brushing. Live by this rule and you can't go wrong.

Several times a month I order a "pizza with everything on it." When it arrives, I'm disappointed to find only extra cheese, green onions, olives, mushrooms, and several kinds of meat. Is this truly everything? Have we grown so unimaginative as a culture we can't do any better? I demanded everything, damn you. Put some backbone into it.

Whoops! I fell out of my chair. That time it was an accident. I know I've done it sometimes just to get attention, but that time was for real.

I have never been charged with impersonating a police officer, though I do it all the time. Don't worry—I don't wear a uniform or carry a fake badge or anything. It's all in my attitude. I carry myself like a cop. People don't say anything, but they don't believe it. I don't tell them I'm a cop either. That would be cheating. And a felony.

They call them sunglasses, but they don't shine the sun directly into your eyes when you're wearing them. They should call them "sunblockers," or "shades." Why is it I'm the one who has to think of these things?

That's sufficient. I could give it more, but I don't think you quite deserve that, do you? No, not at all.

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