ith much of the South either bracing for or fucked up by hurricane damage, the president suffering from historically low approval ratings, and the daily civilian death toll from Iraq taking on Halo proportions, a bruised nation turned its hopes to Apple's latest portable music player this week.

"We fully expect he Nano to change the way we live our lives just as much as the original iPod did back in 1997," Apple founder Steve Jobs announced at a recent press conference, possibly referring to how additional profits for Apple could change his lifestyle for the better. Unfortunately, no one present had a microphone with which to argue or pose questions of semantics. "Besides, I know you've all got shit else going right in your lives right now, so fork over the cash already."

Disaffected Americans from across the iPod-affording spectrum licked their chops in anticipation of the Nano, which is just like the last iPod, except smaller and more expensive.

"This year has really been a shit biscuit," lamented Syracuse sophomore Sean Hannesy. "But I'm pretty confident that my spending $250 on an MP3 player is going to turn things around."

The release of the Nano comes not a moment too soon for a worn-out American public. With the Catholic Church in icky disarray, misogynistic gangsta rap topping the charts, and the recent news that California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger will seek re-election, many have been searching desperately for a money-spending distraction.

Hollywood has provided no solace, with a disappointing batch of summer movies—even by summer movie standards—leading to another terrible box office slump that has limited studio profits to the mere billions. Even sadder, American audiences have been robbed of one of their most time-honored means of avoiding awareness of the world around them.

"I like to call it The Summer of Gigli," explained Paramount executive Paul Walters. "I know that came out last year, but this summer really was that bad. It didn't even have a movie notable enough for use in a clever name."

Meanwhile, 500 Iraqi civilians were blown up by a different group of Iraqi civilians on Saturday, for reasons incomprehensible to white people.

Somehow even more depressing, some asshole in New York this week set the record for consecutive hours of TV-watching, only to have his record rescinded by Guinness when it was discovered he was just watching the first season of Lost on DVD.

"Thank God Apple came out with another iPod," sighed tech writer William Pepper. "Otherwise, this could have been a terrible year for everyone. Now it's just terrible for the poor, liberals, Southerners, Iraqis, movie buffs, music fans, Catholics, Sony, Californians, the Amish, steroid-abusing ballplayers, environmentalists, true conservatives, Cubs fans, animals of all kinds and children. I'm probably forgetting somebody. But it's been a bitchin' year for iPod fans, that's my point."

he so-called 'Axis of Evil,' which now has more points than a pinwheel, took on another member when the forgettable South American country of Venezuela added itself to the roster of anti-U.S. countries this week. The announcement was made in the most awkward fashion, when President Victor Chavez made allegations that the United States has made plans to invade Venezuela soon. How soon? Chavez didn't pinpoint a date, but said the invasion would happen imminently.

According to Chavez, the U.S. has been planning to invade his country for some time, and he has proof, although he didn't exactly present it to anybody. The most precise allegation made by Chavez cited "invasion training maneuvers" being made in his country by CIA operatives, who apparently weren't in Venezuela for one of their thousands of monthly beauty pageants.

"The U.S. wants our oil," said Chavez, not to be confused with the famed union leader beloved by Steinbeck fans and folksingers alike. "They are planning to invade Venezuela to get it. But they will not have it. And if they carry out their plan of invasion, they will be in for a hundred-year war they cannot win." Apparently there's a huge population of homegrown Navy SEALs in Venezuela that haven't been widely publicized.

Chavez appeared on Larry King, home of the mouth of the infidels, to warn the U.S. government not to fuck around with the big boys.

"We are as giants to the United States as you are but ants to normal people. Understand? Perhaps the translation is not so perfect… we are the giants, at giant size, while you are ant size. Get it? You are not normal human size. So we are, you can see, immensely bigger than you. Not in country size or population, resources or world renown. But fighting spirit! This is where we are huge."

The president (of our little shithole) responded Friday to Chavez's Larry King comments: "I will say Mr. Chavez does have immense balls. The rest of it remains to be determined."

While most of the administration shrugged and tried not to smirk at the angry Venezuelan's accusations, a certain White House insider called Vito, and whose real name is revealed on www.confidentialsourcesruined.com, attempted to shed some light on the U.S.-Venezuela position in the current administration.

"The president can't even say Venezuela," confided Vito. "I don't think he ever got past the 48 continental states in his geography classes. He occasionally points to the maps and says, 'What's with the other America? Who's copying us?' But this isn't just about insulting the president; it's about pointing out, once and for all, that when it comes to Venezuela, or for that matter any South American country, the White House position is to truly not give a shit."

While Chavez accused the Bush administration of seeking an invasion for Venezuela's rich oil reserves, our man Vito discounted that as unlikely horseshit.

"I'm not sure where Mr. Chavez gets his confidential information on U.S. foreign policy, but he should go back to the guy and beat the piss outta him. Does he seriously believe Venezuela is next on the list for U.S. invasion? Please! I mean… does he really have the list? Not even the top 10. We've got Korea, Syria, Iran, Pakistan… New Zealand, but that's a surprise, so don't tell anyone. Lord of the Rings raised their profile. But Venezuela? Please. All in good time, amigos. We've got bigger fish to fry first."

Some guys are greedy, the way I see it. They want every single dollar they can get their hands on. They want the things they can't have, the things they don't even deserve. They could be blessed with good looks, good fortune, and all they want is more, more, more. Me? I'm not like that at all. I want one thing out of life before I die, and it's not all that much—I want to experience the perfect gangbang.

Of course, I've had my share of gangbang experiences. But were they perfect? Hardly. Not unless you call a blaring TV in the background, a bunch of strange jerks giggling, and that just-vomited breath smell overpowering what should have been a beautiful couple of hours. Still, I'm not giving up hope. I know the perfect gangbang exists out there, and I just want to be part of it before my days are over.

Does this sound familiar? You get a phone call from an old friend, or some guy you drank too much with in some bar some night, and get invited to what promises to be a real sharp gangbang with a beautiful honey. You get there, the room is packed full of dudes who have no business at a gangbang, either too skuzzy or they clearly don't know what they're doing. Smoke and liquor permeate the room like you never left the bar. The "beautiful honey" you were promised is some freshly passed-out stripper way past her prime and smells like she pissed herself before going unconscious to the mercy of the crowd. Am I too proud to walk away? Maybe not, but it doesn't mean I'm a happy participant. Sloppy seconds I can deal with, but fifths? Sixths? Thirteenths? Ugh. Sometimes you just want to pack up your ol' kit bag and leave that gangbang before it gets disgusting.

Even those rare gangbangs when the gal is still awake can be disappointing. You hoped for a small and intimate affair, but she was shitty drunk and called up some ex-boyfriends, and all of a sudden they're crashing you and your small gang of five to muscle in on your action. And just because she's drunk tonight doesn't mean she won't press charges tomorrow. I let loose an audible sigh. Then I join in, of course, but I still keep my fingers crossed for that one remarkable gangbang I've always been looking for.

Picture this: Just you and the anonymous woman, and four friends who just came with you from the last party. And she's a doll, too, like a slutty Katie Couric, but not too slutty. Dressed in some alluring and only slightly skanky lingerie, bathed like the room in the red lights of nearby lamps. Rose petals cover the bed and its satin sheets, the scent of lilacs and maybe a little MGD fill the room. Instead of the inane chatter of that one asshole who says this is so fucking hot, the only sound in the air is the gentle breathing of five people, and maybe a Lionel Richie record. "Easy like Sunday morning" croons the singer, and everybody gets naked. Let the banging commence!

Now that's pretty fucking romantic, you got to admit. It's not at all like a nasty rendezvous with your dorm roommates in a Taco Bell bathroom. And it's not all that impossible either. Hell, I already have the guys in mind. I just need to find the willing girl and arrange the date. You see? I don't want all that much. I don't see why things have to be so difficult.

I wouldn't mind looking online, trying one of those "adult friend finders" or something… but you gotta be careful with those. A lot of nuts answer those kind of ads.

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