Tchaikovsky Sounds Funny: May 2005

Is this where I put in key words such as sex, lesbians, vampires, Christopher Lloyd and others things to which this blog do not pertain, but by putting them here, I may get hits from all the Christoper Lloyd lesbian vampire fans (and you know who you are)? This is the primarily humorous and occasionally rambling writings of Leon Tchaikovsky, humor writer. Enjoy.

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Book Review: A Prayer for the City

Ed Rendell allowed a writer, Buzz Bissinger, to shadow him during his first term as Mayor of Philadelphia. This book is the result of what Buzz saw during those four years. It provides an extremely candid insight into what Ed Rendell is like as a person while dramatically presenting the difficulties facing a large city Mayor.

“A Prayer for the City” also follows the lives of four Philadelphians during this same period. This makes for interesting contrasts that shows how the story of Philadelphia during this era affected people differently. Although, I wonder why, after several years of following a Mayor around, the book did not concentrate more on the Mayor.

The book shows Ed Rendell, the person, flaws and strengths. Ed Rendell is presented as a strongly driven man who works hard, knows his goals, and does his best to reach those goals. This is seen in contract negotiations where he know what he wanted entering, he knew contingencies, and he knew how to reach his goals, which included allowing others to gain credit and his opposition to come to agreement by being able to walk away from the negotiating table with the ability to claim victory, or else the agreements would never have been reached. Agree or disagree with the result, this ability to engage in complex and strategic thinking and reacting allows readers to conclude that Ed Rendell is a very skilled and driven leader.

Ed Rendell is seen as a hard worker, but as one who doesn’t react well to overexertion. He is conflicted by the expectations that the Mayor must go to the hospital of any wounded police officer, knowing that a private family time can be seen as being inappropriately disturbed by a politician and the media. Yet, as Ed Rendell lost his father when he was 14, he related well to the children of slain and wounded officers. When the pressure and lack of rest got to be too much, Ed Rendell can scream, throw things, and even do bodily harm, such as digging his heel into another or grabbing a photographer enough to bruise her arm.

Ed Rendell also knows the key to victory is to build coalitions with necessary partners. In order to get legislation through City Council, he did his best to stroke the ego and give credit, even when it was not due to him, to City Council John Street. Of course, we wonder what John Street thinks when he reads some of the negative sentiments expressed by Rendell in the book that were kept from him at this time.

The successes of Rendell’s first term are presented. A structural deficit that threatened to bankrupt the city was eliminated. Job losses reversed and small job gains began. The man Al Gore dubbed “American’s Mayor” went on and has become our Governor. Readers will see that dealing with the complexities of being a Mayor should serve well as a prelude to being Governor. One point clear from this book is that Ed Rendell means to be a good leader, for as he said himself, “if I walk out of here voted out, I walk with my head held high because I’ve done the right thing.”

It's a Crime to Pass This Test

If you call up a newspaper and ask to have a copy of your photograph that appeared in the newspaper, and the photo is one taken of you from their Crime Stoppers page of a surveillance camera shot of you were committing a crime, you may not be cut out to be a criminal.

If you rob convenient stores because you think they call themselves “convenient stores” stores to let criminals know they are convenient to rob, you may not be cut out to be a criminal.

If you rob people, and then give them a mail-in survey with your correct address on it, asking them to rate you service while robbing them, you may not be cut out to be a criminal.

If you put your mug shot on your business cards, and then give them out to your victims, you may not be cut out to be a criminal.

If you commit crimes because you love to ride in the back of police cars with their sirens blaring then…you know, maybe at this point, you are cut out to be a criminal.

Monday, May 30, 2005

Y2K is Not Taking YMCA Runners on a 2K Run

I am a terrible procrastinator. Today, I began to worry that Y2K will make my computer inoperable.

Baseball players are becoming more aware of their image with fans. Some players are now, in addition to giving fans baseballs, giving fans their unused steroids.

Poor George W. Bush. He was born on third base and thought he hit a single.

Thursday, May 26, 2005

Computer, Spaceships, Guns, and Things That Make Loud Noises When They Explode

I have a computerized voice on my answering machine. It sounds like a female robot. I can’t help it: that’s what comes from Bell South (trademark name: company holds no responsibility for any comments on this blog) answering machines. Yesterday, someone called me and then asked, regarding my answering machine voice, “Is that your wife?”

“Yes, I am a total geek, and I married a computer. We’re quite happy. We looking forward someday to the pitter patter of little microchips.”

I also recalled something I hadn’t thought much about in a long time: the day I got shot at. Amazing how these memories creep back. I was alright. I was riding an Amtrak (trademark name: company holds no responsibility for any comments on this blog, although they really should be doing more to protect people against getting shot while using their product) train when my window splattered. The conductor took it all in stride and explained that this happens “quite frequently in these parts”. Of course, I’m thinking, if you are aware there is a part of this journey where the locals take pot shots at passing trains, maybe you should warn passengers to duck for a few minutes while passing through that area. Just a suggestion.

Finally, today’s weird thought: is there some detector on NASA (trademark name: company holds no responsibility for the facts that they spend a great amount of time carefully and meticulously building things that make huge explosions when something goes wrong) that won’t allow a spacecraft to launch if they determine the pilot doesn’t have his seat belt fastened? Interestingly: the answer is: Yes. Which would be a really funny mistake to make. “Three……liftoff…ahh, Gordon, your seatbelt…”

My next question is: do these spacecraft have breathalyzers?

Monday, May 23, 2005

My Message from God-and a Joke About Peanuts

There are people who are very allergic to peanuts: even touching them can cause an allergic reaction. Thus, products that contain peanuts print warnings to alert people who are allergic to peanuts reading “Caution: May Contain Peanuts”. Now, people laugh because this warning appears on bags of peanuts. Frankly, it is not the warning itself the concerns me. It is that, on the bag of peanuts, the warning contains the word MAY.

It was Armed Forces Day on Saturday. There were military recruitment festivals in town. They were giving away free jalapeno chili hot dogs. Those who could eat them were automatically signed into the military.

I have trouble defining my life every since I received my calling from God. God spoke to me and said “Leon, don’t do a thing. I’ll handle things myself.”

Friday, May 20, 2005

Maybe the Pit Bull Wanted to Be Circumcised

There will be a pit bull neutering clinic held here soon. Now there’s a job proud parents like to share with others: my child earns a living neutering pit bulls. Frankly, I think it a challenging job, although I have to admit, I am not certain exactly at what point one reaches full job satisfaction, but I am certain, when it comes to a taste of bravery, some of the bravest people have to be those who can grab a pit bull and cut off its manhood. Frankly, if we had more people like that in the military, we’d be unstoppable.

I don’t understand comic books. I am banned from comic book conventions simply because I keep asking the comic book guest speakers one simple question: “Why is it only large breasted women are able to obtain super powers?”

Monday, May 16, 2005

We Don't Need No Stinkin' Women

It is reported that a study shows that gay men and straight men smell differently. That doesn’t surprise me. Whenever I smell a man wearing women’s perfume, I have my suspicions. Now, what interested me was what was buried in the article. It stated that gay men preferred the scent of other gay men to the scent of straight men and of women. What they also found out was that straight men preferred the scent of gay men over the scent of women. Thus, I can conclude: Women stink.

Which is weird, because for all those elementary school guys who got in trouble for saying that women stink, it turns out they were onto something the whole time. All those wasted detentions on guys who were only speaking the truth.

Sunday, May 15, 2005

Good Will Lawyer Hunting

There is a reason why many hunters aren’t too smart. It’s not their fault; it’s all part of the Divine plan. God looked down and figured out if there are going to be a group of people who are going to carry around loaded weapons, and drink too much, that it best be that they not be bright enough to think to take lessons to learn how to shoot straight. It’s all for the best.

That’s what wrong with hunters: they don’t know how to do good PR. What hurt hunters the most was the movie “Bambi.” A smart hunter would have known to point out that whoever shot Bambi’s mother was hunting out of season. And a really smart hunter wouldn’t have left a sad orphan deer behind. He’d have shot Bambi, too.

I’m not a hunter. When my friends say “let’s get our rifles, douse ourselves with deer urine, take a six pack of beer, and sit in a tree”, I immediately find two things wrong with that sentence. Anything combining a six pack of beer with sitting in a tree is just an accident waiting to happen. Anything that involves deliberately putting urine on yourself, before you’ve drunk a six pack, is just wrong.

Of course, some intelligence would be appreciated. I have noticed there seems to be a growing number of people who believe that store lines are above them. We’ve all seen this. They cut in front of everyone. They get away with it because I seldom see the person behind the cash register say anything, probably because they’re paid a low wage and the store doesn’t care to teach people to teach common civility to others. The other day, I saw a new low. The person working the cash register was in the middle of ringing me up when someone cut in front. The register worker actually canceled out my items and rang up the other guy and then restarted my items from the beginning. When I protested, the register worker gave me the one honest answer. She looked at me and said, in all seriousness, “well, it’s his turn. He cut in front of you.” I guess that’s the new rules in life.

Should it bother for me to learn what websites link to mine? I know you Buffy fans find mine, because there is a Buffy link out there, and, boy, aren’t you surprised when you find this site: the only site that defends the rights of vampires to roam unmolested by angry women. Just be glad vampires aren't bright enough to learn how to fire rifles. There is a website on “funny accidents” that links to here. Now, I think considering this site a funny accident is just insulting. What really amuses me is there is a site “Laci Peterson Case Information” that links to here. Now this is intriguing. If there are people combing this website seeking hidden clues for secret information about the Laci Peterson case, let me give you this very important clue: Get a life, you morons.

And I was worried about the Buffy fans. I now see it can only get weirder.

Not too many people know this, but I am an ordained minister. Unfortunately, some in my church want to defrock me for my sexuality. You see, no one wants to have sex with me, and church members are finding that just embarrassing. Although, we might be able to convert some Catholics.

My life is so bad, when I explained to a beggar who really was a con artist why I couldn’t give him money because of how bad my life’s going, he shook my hand, congratulated me on coming up with a better con than he had, and he gave me money. You know you’re life is bad when your reality is worse than a con artists’ sob story.

Actually, I did find a woman, but she charges $400 an hour. The woman reassured me that she is worth the money, for while men have paid less, they all learn that, while there is no guarantee, that more men will have a happy ending if they hire her than if they hire someone less skilled. I tell you: I hate hiring a lawer.

A woman asked me if she should consider it a compliment or an insult when someone told her she looked like his ex-wife. Frankly, I think it was just a line to start conversation, but I think I have the perfect response for her. She should tell the guy “you’re right, and let me reassure you, as a member of the group of people who look like us, we all agree: you’re not our type. Believe us, one of us has tried, and the word is out.”

Friday, May 13, 2005

Flashbacks for the President


CONDI sits on GEORGE’S lap.

GEORGE: Condolezza, you’ve been very good for my, ehh, foreign affairs.

CONDI: Mr. President, I’d do anything for you. I’d even lie for you.

GEORGE: Keep that thought.

CONDI: Tell me again the story about your first advisor. Please, please.

GEORGE: He was a drunk I met in a back alley. You know, I never caught his name. But I remember him well.

A PERSON wearing a raincoat backwards walks in front of the camera. The raincoat is pulled apart revealing a sign reading “FLASHBACK”.


GEORGE and a DRUNK with large muscles sit while drunk and holding booze bottles.

GEORGE: I’m a failure. I ruined the oil business my daddy bought for me.

DRUNK: (English accent) Oil’s well that end’s well.

GEORGE: You got any coke?

DRUNK: Certainly, my good man.

The drunk hands George a cola can. George looks at it with a confused look. George tosses the can away.

GEORGE: I have no idea what to do with my life. My life is over.

DRUNK: I’m sure you’ll find something, Guv’nor.

GEORGE: That’s it! I’ll run for Governor. Oh, thank you, thank you.


CONDI: Ahh, that’s so exciting, You know, power turns me on.

GEORGE: Same thing with Dick Cheney. We need to power his pacemaker to turn him on.

CONDI: So, after you became Governor, what made you run for President?

GEORGE: You won’t believe it, but it was the same advisor I had before.

The PERSON wearing a raincoat backwards walks in front of the camera. The raincoat pulls back slightly. The person turns around and faces the camera.

PERSON: You know what happens next.


George and the drunk sit in the alley holding empty bottles.

GEORGE: I hate being Governor. In Texas, the Lt. Governor makes all the cool appointments and deals with the legislature. I’m the weakest Governor in the nation.

DRUNK: (using a hip-hop slang accent) We all gots our weaknesses.

GEORGE: I think my daughters are becoming drunks…

DRUNK: I hear that. Love those drunk daughters.

GEORGE: I am still a failure. I don’t know what to do with my life.

DRUNK: Gotta live your life.

GEORGE: If only I knew what to do next.

DRUNK: You gotta be the main man.

GEORGE: That’s it! I’ll run for President.


CONDI: That’s so cool.

GEORGE: Yeah. Next time, don’t put so much ice down there.

George and Condi look at their laps.

CONDI: So, Mr. President, how are you going to top being President?

The drunk crashes through a wall (or door). The drunk is dressed similar to the Terminator. He carries a rifle (or water gun or silly string shooter).

DRUNK: I am a cyborg sent from the future.

Condi jumps off George’s lap. Condi runs beside the drunk and rubs his arm seductively.

CONDI: Ahh. You know, I’m a big fan of the future.

DRUNK: (using an Austrian- Schwarzenegger accent) I have been sent from the future to destroy George W. Bush before he destroys the world?

CONDI: You mean President Bush is also a cyborg?

DRUNK: No, he’s just dumb.

George runs around the room. The drunk chases George and shoots his gun at George.

CONDI: Ahh, I love it when cyborgs and Presidents of the United States fight.

The person wearing the raincoat walks in front of the camera.

PERSON: Fantasy, or reality? Can Mister Universe become Governor or California? Can the son of a failed President become President himself? Is the world in jeopardy when these seemingly impossible events collide? That’s how it is, here, is the Dimlight Zone. (pause) Or reality.

The person’s raincoat is drawn apart. On the back of his pants is a sign reading “THE END”.

The Mentality, or Lack Thereof, of George W. Bush


SIG and LESLEY, psychologists, are discussing in Sig’s office.

LESLEY: I appreciate your help in analyzing this patient for me. For security purposes, he has to keep his identity secret.

SIG: What does he do for a living?

LESLEY: He’s President of the United States.

SIG: If I only had more of a clue as to who he is. Bush, Cheney, Enron, that could be anyone. What are his symptoms?

LESLEY: Vision of grandeur, gross incompetence at anything he goes, and an inability to determine what reality is. Keeps envisioning weapons of mass destruction everywhere he looks.


LESLEY: Here he is. I’ll leave you two alone.

George sits in a chair/couch. Lesley exits.

SIG: So, what is your name?

BUSH: I’m Bush.

SIG: How long have you been thinking you’re a bush?

BUSH: My entire life.

SIG: Were your parents bushes?

BUSH: Of course.

SIG: Do you have roots?

BUSH: I have roots in Connecticut and in Texas.

SIG: Those are long roots. What do you do with your day?

BUSH: I command the largest military on Earth.

SIG: I think my son has that same video game. Where do you spend most of your days?

BUSH: In a big oval room in a big white house.

SIG: Do you do many drugs in college?

BUSH: Indeed I did.

SIG: I can tell. Let’s try some word association. Say the first thing that comes into your mind.

BUSH: Sex.

SIG: I haven’t begun.

BUSH: Well, maybe you should wait until after I leave.

SIG: White.

BUSH: Water.

SIG: Black.

BUSH: Voter.

SIG: Shock.

BUSH: Awe.

SIG: Calm.

BUSH: Supreme Court ruling in Bush v Gore.

SIG: Happy.

BUSH: Gay (pause) marriage.

SIG: Sad.

BUSH. Dam Hussein.

SIG: Home.

BUSH: Land security.

SIG: Trip.

BUSH: Acid.

SIG: Plain.

BUSH: Air Force One.

SIG: Fancy.

BUSH: Al Sharpton.

SIG: Life.

BUSH: Pro.

SIG: Kill.

BUSH: Bill…(pause) and Hillary.

SIG: Love.

BUSH. Courtney.

Sig pauses and writes notes on a paper.

SIG: Ruffled.

BUSH: Ridge.

SIG: I said “ruffled”, not “ruffles”.

BUSH: No, I’ll blame Tom Ridge when things get ruffled.

SIG: I believe I have heard enough. Bush, it is time you realize you are not a plant.

BUSH: I am too. The Supreme Court planted me where I am.

SIG: I recommend a long vacation.

BUSH: Well, I might have some extra spare time after this coming November.

SIG: Go on a trip. Forget about work. Have fun. But don’t get too carried away?

BUSH: Did you say carri…ed away? As in John?

SIG: Down the hall, to the right.

BUSH: So, am I competent to return to work?

SIG: Absolutely not. If you were a crossing guard, you’d have difficult getting children safely across the street.

BUSH: How about thousands of soldiers across an ocean?

SIG: You need serious help. Unfortunately, due to the cutbacks in medical care, you won’t be able to afford it. So, you’re free to go.

BUSH: Great. I knew, if you mess things up really good, people will just give up expecting things from me.

Psychological Mind of a Psycho (Patient Dubya)


GEORGE BUSH paces addressing LAURA BUSH, who stands still at attention.

GEORGE: Laura, as a child, I used to blow up frogs. Now I blow up Iraqis. War fulfills a childhood dream of mine.

LAURA: I know, George.

GEORGE: How did you address me, you filthy sleezy First Lady of the Night?

LAURA: I meant, I know, Mr. President, sir!

GEORGE: You know what I think of war, don’t you?

LAURA: War is your mid-life crisis of sending young men whose vitality you are jealous of off to suffer and die.

GEORGE: What did you say?

LAURA: I’m sorry, Mr. President, sir. Your power as leader of the free world who single handedly captured Saddam Hussein and conquered Iraq has made me so sexually excited and lightheaded I don’t know what I am saying.

GEORGE: That’s what I thought you said. Now, who is Ken Lay?

LAURA: Neither of us has ever heard of him, sir!

GEORGE: Very good. Who is Chalabi?

LAURA: He’s the Iranian connected agent who gave us false information about the existence of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq that we used as a basis to remove Saddam Hussein without evidence these weapons existed, thus allowing Iran, a true nuclear threat, to be the supreme power in that portion of the world, sir.

GEORGE: What did you say?

LAURA: Please, George, no more. We’ve played this game too long.

GEORGE: Game, you think this is a game? You know what I did to pledges in college, don’t you?

LAURA: You branded them on their buttocks, Mr. President, sir.

GEORGE: Maybe you’d like a taste of what that felt like?

LAURA: Actually, that would be kind if kinky. I mean, no, Mr. President, sir.

GEORGE: Bend over.

KARL ROVE enters unnoticed by George and Laura.

Laura bends over. George grabs a fraternity paddle. George swats Laura.

LAURA: Thank you, Mr. President, may I please have another?

George swats Laura.

LAURA: Thank you, Mr. President, may I please have another? And a little harder?

KARL: Oh, crap. I’ll prepare the press release. Which country are we invading now?

Useful Uses for the Patriot Act


IRENE RUBINOWITZ, age 90, answers a knock on her door. JOHN ASHCONK, an FBI agent, enters. John wears a hat with antennae or ears or anything else that moves.

JOHN: Are you Irene Rubinowitz, age 90, of Park Avenue?

IRENE: Yes I am, sonny, you want a cookie?

JOHN: Don’t try bribing your way out of this. I’m John Ashconk, Special Agent, FBI.

IRENE: Are you with the X Files? I love that show.

JOHN: I’m with the Patriot Act enforcement. Like X Files, I deal with alien threats.

John moves his head so his antennae rotate,

JOHN: And I detect that: you!, are an alien threat.

IRENE: Well, I did immigrate, but I’ve become a citizen.

JOHN: So you confess that you are a foreign spy.

IRENE: Pie? Yes, I have a pie baking.

John waves his antennae more forcefully at Irene.

JOHN: The FBI notes you withdrew a book on bomb making from the local library.

IRENE: I thought the book “Cooking with Bombs” was about making chili. My eyesight is bad. I returned the book.

JOHN: Yes, but you failed to pay the overdue book fine. You like to show disregard for the law, don’t you?

John shakes his antennae at Irene.

IRENE: I’m an old woman, I’m been confused since I returned from vacation in Israel.

JOHN: Do you frequently travel to the Middle East?

IRENE: My granddaughter lives on a kibbutz. I was visiting her.

JOHN: So you’re politically active?

IRENE: At my age, I’m not anything active.

JOHN: I’m taking you in.

IRENE: Let me call my lawyer.

JOHN: I’m sorry, but under the Patriot Act, you have no right to an attorney.

John grabs Irene by the arm. John leads Irene towards the door.

IRENE: Albert! Help! They’re taking me away.

ALBERT, age 90, enters.

ALBERT: Hey, you, where are you taking my wife?

JOHN: I am sorry, but under the Patriot Act, I do not need to disclose that.

ALBERT: How long are you keeping her?

JOHN: We can hold her indefinitely.

ALBERT: How do I get in touch with her?

JOHN: You can’t.

John leads Irene out the door.

IRENE: Albert, do something.

Albert shuffles to the telephone, picks the phone up, and dials. Albert is indignant.

ALBERT: Hello, FBI. You just arrested my wife, Irene Rubinowitz. Do you know who my brother in law is? Do you?

Albert speaks slyly.

ALBERT: My brother in law also is a terrorist. Take him away, too.

Albert sits on a chair and laughs.

Fire the Liar


ANNOUNCER: Welcome to the new version of the game show “Fire the Liar.” In this game, two people will claim to be the same person. The contestant has to figure out who the liar is, and then fire the liar. Let us meet our contestant. Tell us about yourself.

HADLY: I am Hadley Payne (pause) Attention. When I am not being a father to my two children and attending NASCAR races, I am a mother to my three children and a professional soccer player.

ANNOUNCER: As if we media types really care. Now, let us meet mystery guest number one.

GUEST ONE: My name is George W. Bush, and I am President of the United States.

ANNOUNCER: And now, mystery guest number two.

GUEST TWO: I am President Bush, the undisputed leader of the free world and the protector of the American way throughout the world, whether they want our way or not.

ANNOUNCER: Let’s start the game. Guests, begin.

GUEST ONE: I never saw any intelligence that indicated there was going to be an attack on America.

GUEST TWO: That memo marked Bin Liden Going to Attack America was ambiguous. Attack could mean a critical review, like, America, I hope they don’t film a sequel to that turkey.

GUEST ONE: I would have moved mountains to stop the attack.

GUEST TWO: Unless, of course, it would have meant canceling my golf game.

GUEST ONE: Of course we knew that American was hated by Osama bin Laden.

GUEST TWO: Which is why I had his entire family spirited out of America before we could question them for helpful information. Such as why my former oil partner used to be partners with bin Laden’s family.

GUEST ONE: The warning document contained nothing about an attack on America.

GUEST TWO: Although it did mention two targets by name: the World Trade Center and LAX. But, hey, you’ve got to be more specific.

GUEST ONE: I did receive a memo stating that al Qaeda had reached America and was preparing to hijack airplanes.

GUEST TWO: But who has time to read all those memos? There were memos on unemployment rate increases, crop production decreases. Again, if it interrupts with my golf game, who has time?

GUEST ONE: Dick Clarke did warn me about the possibility of terrorist attacks.

GUEST TWO: I love how Dick Clark still looks a teenager, even after several decades of American Bandstand.

GUEST ONE: I’m George Bush, and as long as I have your support, I will be your elected President.

GUEST TWO: I’m George Bush, and as long as I have the Supreme Court’s support, I will be your elected President.

ANNOUNCER: That you have it, Hadly. Which of our two guests do you believe is the real George Bush, and which is the liar we should fire?

HADLY: I can’t decide. May I wait until November to make my decision?

ANNOUNCER: Indeed, you may.

GUEST ONE: I hope in November you’ll choose me.

GUEST TWO: What do I care? I know your type is not going to remember by November.

ANNOUNCER: Let us see if Hadley does any better in round two. Mystery guest number three, who are you?

GUEST THREE: I am Dick Cheney, Vice President of the United States.

ANNOUNCER: Mystery guest number four, who are you?

GUEST FOUR: I am Dick Cheney, and anything more than that need not be disclosed according to executive privilege.

ANNOUNCER: Let us being round two.

GUEST THREE: Although I am the former head of Halliburton, I have no influence over the billions of dollars of government contracts given to Halliburton.

GUEST FOUR: Although they were no bid contracts determined in advance to be given to Halliburton.

HADLEY: (shrugs) I don’t get it.

GUEST THREE: Plus, what do I care what happens to Halliburton? I’m Vice President. I’m no longer an executive at Halliburton.

GUEST FOUR: Although, not only are the Halliburton executives my friends, I still own 400,000 shares of Halliburton. So, I have a financial interest in Halliburton doing well.

HADLEY: I don’t get it.

GUEST THREE: So, even if Halliburton receives some contracts, it is not like there is any harm.

GUEST FOUR: Although even our own Defense Department has found that Halliburton has submitted tens of millions of dollars in over-billings.

HADLEY: I don’t get it.
Transcript from an old episode of "Fire the Liar":

GUEST THREE: OK, so maybe you as a taxpayer have to pay a little more.

GUEST FOUR: The policies I’ve created to reward Halliburton and my other friends can lead to your children being called to military combat and possibly killed.

HADLEY: Oh, now I get it, (pause) and I’m getting it up the wazoo.

ANNOUNCER: Yes, Hadley, you’re figuring out this game. Only, you can’t fire the liar because they’re elected officials. There is no way to win this game.

HADLEY: I really do get it now. And I’m getting it good.

ANNOUNCER: That concludes this episode of Fire the Liar. Join us for our next show when we determine who really runs our State Department.

The Funny Thing Is: This One is True, and That's Not Funny


GENE/JEANNE: Hello, I am Gene “Military” Raygun. Welcome to the game “Fire the Liar”. In this game, one of two contestants tries to fool the panel as to which one of the two is lying. When the liar is discovered, it is time to “fire the liar”. The winner gets a high paying government job while the loser gets a consolation prize of working as a journalist. Let’s meet contestant number one. What’s your name and what do you do?

WALDEN: I am Walden Park Overyou. I am President of the Diefreedom Voting Machines.

GENE: What makes your voting machines special?

WALDEN: They have absolutely no paper trial. Thus, if there is a breakdown in recording the votes, there is no way to establish where the mistake was made.

GENE: What possible use is a machine where no one can tell where a mistake in counting the vote was made?

WALDEN: Well, these machines could be useful to someone who would like a mistake to be made.

GENE: Who would buy such a lousy machine?


GENE: That’s a swing state in this Presidential election. Fortunately, I am certain you are an honest man who has no interest in the outcome of this election.

WALDEN: Actually, I am upfront that I am a supporter and financial contributor to the George Bush campaign.

GENE: But you wouldn’t let your personal beliefs interfere with your work.

WALDEN: Actually, I have promised President Bush that he will win Ohio.

GENE: But it would be wrong for you to tamper with your own machines just to deliver on a promise you made to President Bush.

WALDEN: Yes. That would be wrong. Yet, as you will recall, I mentioned earlier that if such a thing would happen, there would be no paper trail showing that it happened.

GENE: Are you familiar with Chuck Hagel.

WALDEN: He is a colleague of mine. He is an owner of the Election Systems and Software Company. They are the only machines used in the Nebraska elections.

GENE: Can you tell me who the surprise winner was in the Nevada Senate elections?

WALDEN: Coincidentally, it was Chuck Hagel. That was certainly a big upset.

GENE: And how is Senator Hagel’s company doing now?

WALDEN: His company’s machines will count approximately 60 percent of the vote in the upcoming elections.

GENE: Well, our panelists appear to be convinced by what you had to say, Walden. Contestant number two, our returning champion, has some tough competition. Our second contestant hails from Washington, D.C., although he likes to pretend he’s a Texan, and he’s a federal government employee named George W. Bush.

GEORGE enters with DICK CHENEY. Dick sits on a chair. George sits on Dick’s lap.

GENE: So, George, what do you do for a living?

Dick answers while George moves his mouth silently.

DICK: I plan the invasion of a country that threatened to kill my father and rebuild that country by giving contracts to companies that contribute to me.

GENE: I couldn’t help but notice there are two of you.

DICK: That’s right. There are two George Bushes. I am one and the other is my father.

GENE: No, I mean, there’s another person with you, although I’m not certain if you aren’t really some two headed mutant.

George and Dick slowly turn their heads towards each other. When they spot each other, they drop their mouths and act surprised.

DICK: That’s my Dick. He’s my vice.

GENE: I’m sure he is. Oops, don’t want to helping out the judges there. Tell me, I requested only you to appear, but you stated you would appear only if you could bring Dick Cheney with you.

DICK: I love my Dick. I’d never severe him from me, unlike Bill, who got severed from his Vice. That was gore…(pause),,y.

GENE: What does your Dick do?

DICK: He does things in private in secret places that I’m not allowed to talk about.

GENE: Is it true that your Dick met with the heads of major energy corporations?

DICK: My Dick meets with lots of heads. They massage ideas until sometime good rises that produces lots of energy.

GENE: Do you like your Dick?

DICK: I know macho Texas men like me aren’t supposed to say this out loud, but, yes,,,

Dick sips a glass of water.

George makes gurgling noises.

DICK: (to George) Sorry.

DICK: (to camera) My Dick and I make a great pair.

GENE: Woa! None of our judges believe the two of you make a great anything. George, you’re this weeks’ liar, and I’d say you’re fired, but Donald Trump has enough money to be getting more from us.



GENE: Our panelist Condeleeza Rice seems overcome by your lies.

CONDELEEZA: Those two aren’t a pair. George is my…my husband!

Other PANELISTS drag Condeleeza away as she continues screaming,

CONDELEEZA: He’s mine, all mine.

GENE: Join us next week for our repeat show when Martha Stewart met Jayson Williams.

We Love Bush


DAN RATHER NOT (or “Danielle Rather Not”, if preferred) passes money to a DEALER who passes a bag to Dan. The CAMERA OPERATOR shouts out.

CAMERA OPERATOR (V.0.): Dan, you’re on the air.

Dan quickly turns to the camera. The dealer quickly turns away from the camera and slinks away,

DAN: I am Dan Rather Not, and I am here before a huge Support the President rally.

The camera pans and shows three frowning supporters holding signs reading “Support the President”, “I Love the President”, and “I Love Bush”.

Dan walks over to the supporter holding “Support the President” sign.

DAN: Tell me, why do you support the President?

The supporter is startled.

SUPPORTER: Why, you’re Howard Cosell.

DAN: No, I’m Dan Rather Not.

SUPPORTER: No, you’re Howard Cosell.

DAN: Howard Cosell is dead.

The supporter looks sympathetic.

SUPPORTER: Now, now, that’s no way to think. Life will get better.

DAN: What is it about the President you like?

SUPPORTER: I appreciate that we finally have a President who projects a bold vision for America. I like how he stood up to Saudi Arabia and insisted they institute democratic reforms.

DAN: Ahh, he did?

SUPPORTERS: And I like his bold action to save the social security program.

Dan appears dubious.


Dan walks to the fan holding the “I Love the President” sign.

DAN: Why do you support the President?

FAN: I am glad we finally have a President willing to take a bold stand on abortion.

DAN: So you’re a member of the Right to Life movement?

FAN: Oh, no, I favor a woman’s right to choose what to do with her own body.

DAN: Then why would you support an anti-abortion President?

FAN: No, no, the President is pro-choice.

DAN: I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken.

SUPPORTER: No, that’s right. The President is pro-choice.

FAN: Although I am not certain I support the President’s bombing of Qumari.

DAN: Qumari?

SUPPORTER: President Bartlet had no choice but to bomb Qumari.

DAN: President Bartlet?

FAN: Yes, we love President Josiah Bartlet.

DAN: Josiah Bartlet isn’t President. That’s a television show.

SUPPORTER: That’s right. I love how President Bartlet opened his administration for all America to see.

DAN: You’re talking about “The West Wing.”

FAN: That’s right. “The West Wing” is the best reality show there is.

SUPPORTER: I’m glad they voted off that Ainsley Hayes.

DAN: President Bartlet doesn’t exist. He’s a fictional character.

FAN: You’re daffy. They show the President every Wednesday night. If it is on television, it must exist.

SUPPORTER: Yes, Mr. Cosell, and since you’re on television, you can’t be dead.

Dan walks towards the “I Love Bush” sign holder.

DAN: You at least know Bush.

HOLDER: I certainly do.

DAN: And you support President Bush?


DAN: George W. Bush.

HOLDER: Don’t know him.

DAN: But you’re holding a sign that reads “I Love Bush”.

HOLDER: That’s right. I’m looking for a girl friend.

Dan stares momentarily at the sign holder. Dan quickly turns towards the camera.

DAN: And that explains who supports the President. Back to Barbara at the studio.


BARBIE WALTERS and DICK CHENEY sit at a studio news desk.

BARBIE: I am Barbie Walters, and tonight, my guest is Dick Cheney, the main advocate of Halliburton Corporation and a prime leader of our Federal government, which is an important subsidiary of Halliburton.

DICK: I wouldn’t exactly say subsidiary. More like a mutually beneficial partnership.

BARBIE: Mr. Cheney, why are you in secret hiding so often, when the President is not?

DICK: You should realize that the President is basically a figurehead. It is important for me, as the Executive Vice President of the Halliburton States of America, I mean, United States of Halliburton, to be at an undisclosed location so our enemies cannot find me.

BARBIE: Enemies like al Qadea?

DICK: No, Democrats.

BARBIE: How often are you in hiding?

DICK: I am constantly in hiding.

BARBIE: No, you’re not. You’re not hiding now. You’re here, in our New York studio.

Dick stands up. SECRET SERVICE agents run into the studio and surround Barbie.

DICK: For disclosing my whereabouts, you are to be detained without pending charges at an undisclosed location.

The agents force Barbie to stand. They move her towards a far end of the studio.

BARBIE: You mean the secret prison at the end of this studio?

DICK: That’s right.

Dick turns to the camera.

DICK: And none of you viewers are allowed to disclose the location of this studio on the corner of 44th and 7th Avenue.

Barbie is lead into a prison cell with SADDAM HUSSEIN.

BARBIE: Saddam Hussein, what are you doing here?

SADDAM: I don’t know. All I remember is I am sleeping in a hole in the ground, the next thing I know, I have a big headache and I’m in Times Square being forced to sell booklets on 99 sexual positions for a living.

BARBIE: That’s horrible. Why, my latest book details over 200 sexual positions.

SADDAM: My previous book had over 200 ways to execute your sons in law.

BARBIE: Tell me, Saddam. Why did you pretend to have weapons of mass destruction when you apparently no longer had them?

SADDAM: I needed to look big. The Ayatollah is always bragging how well endowed he is. I needed to show I had something bigger and more explosive than he did.

BARBIE: But didn’t you realize that claiming to have these weapons would cause Bush to send in troops?

Saddam scratches his beard for a second.

SADDAM: Maybe, in retrospect, my problem evaluation and decision determination methods could have been conducted at a higher standard.

Barbie turns to the camera.

BARBIE: So, viewers, I must sign off from a secret undisclosed location where I see the leaderships of the ACLU and Community Legal Services are also being held, along with Martha Stewart, who has made a lovely table decoration out of Congressman Jim Trafficant’s toupee. In my absence, my show will be replaced by Janet Jackson reading the press releases of the White House and Donald Rumsfeld, topless. Just so there is no confusion, that will be Donald Rumsfeld who will be topless. Thank you, and good night.

Early Cable Discussion on Adopting the U.S. Constitution


HOST: Welcome to the September 15, 1787 edition of the Fux News Congressional Report. Gang, today, Congress has printed a proposal called the U.S. Constitution…

ANNE: This is an obvious liberal ploy to impose more government upon the citizenry.

PHYLLIS: Plus it is full of perversion. Just read it. It begins “we the people’, which is an obvious illusion to the group sex that liberals in Congress wish to impose upon our children.

TUCKER: Then it goes on to say “to form a more perfect union”. Again, is it possible for Congress to act without giving in to labor unions?

ANNE: And then the liberals want to “establish justice”, like they and only they can decide what’s right for America.

PHYLLIS: Followed by the perversion to “insure domestic tranquility”. An obvious allusion to orgasms, which, frankly, should be outlawed.

TUCKER: Then the liberals are wishy washy. They throw us conservatives a bone by claiming they wish to “provide for the common defense”, but then they are by declaring their true intentions, which is to “promote the general welfare”, which obviously means these liberals want to make America a welfare state.

PHYLLIS: And that is followed with “secure the blessing of liberty to ourselves and our posterity.” Believe me, I know what blessings of liberty these liberals want in their posterities.

ANNE: The liberals then attempt to grab the religious issue by then declaring that they “do ordain”. I am sure the Religious Right can see through that phoniness.

HOST: So, is there anything good you can say about this document that the girly men in Congress are proposing?

The guests all look at each with questioning glances. Tucker suddenly raises his hand.

TUCKER: It protects slavery!

The other guests nod affirimately.

HOST: There you have it. Write your good conservative members of Congress and stop this liberal attempt to demoralize our country with this ‘Constitution’. This has been the fair and balanced news of Fux News, which is independent from our British owner living in a country from whom we should never have sought our Independence. Good night, and God bless everyone except liberals and slaves.

Inspections of Destruction in Washington

Litte known White House transcript:


BARBARA BUSH and JENNA BUSH, dressed as children, sit on a sofa/bed/chairs. BARBARA’s face is covered with cherry pie. Barbie holds a cherry pie and shoves pie into her mouth. Jenna’s face is clean.


GEORGE: (sternly) Jenna Bush, I know you stole the cherry pie.

Barbara hides the cherry pie (somewhere, but not on Jenna’s desk.)

JENNA: No, daddy. You know I’m allergic to cherries.

GEORGE: Which is evidence as to why you think you could get away with it, Jenna. Barbara, I know you didn’t steal the cherry pie.

JENNA: No, daddy, you know I can’t tell a lie. (spits out cherry seed into her hand) I did not cut out with the cherry pie.

GEORGE: Now, Jenna, I know if Hans Blix inspects your desk, he’ll find the cherry pie.

JENNA: No, daddy, I don’t have any cherry pie hidden in my desk.

GEORGE: Hans, begin your search.

Hans begins searching the desk. He removes alcohol bottles and underwear. He carefully inspects the bras and panties.

Jenna and Barbara react in disgust to Hans.

GEORGE: Hans, before you open that desk drawer, I know there is no need for you to open it. I know the cherry pie is hidden in there.

JENNA: No, check the drawer. There’s no cherry pie in there.

GEORGE: Even if it isn’t in there, I know you have a train set, and you probably constantly move the cherry pie around so it never is in one place.

JENNA: No, daddy, I don’t.

GEORGE: I have this intelligence photograph taken at night.

George pulls out a photograph and shows Jenna the photo.

GEORGE: My intelligence agents tell me that circle in the middle of your room is a cherry pie.

JENNA: No, daddy, that’s my birth con…I mean, I have no idea what the circular object is.

GEORGE: I’m sorry, but I have no alternative but to do what is best for our nation. (shouts) Donald!


GEORGE: Donald Rumsfeld, remove the tyrant.

Donald grabs George.

GEORGE: Not me, Jenna.

Donald looks confused.

DONALD: Which one is Jenna? The one with cherry pie all over her face?

GEORGE: No, Jenna is the one with no cherry pie on her face.

DONALD: You wouldn’t want me to divert my resources going after the wrong party now, would you?

GEORGE: Go get here.

Donald grabs Jenna and removes her from the room.

GEORGE: That has made this household safer for democracy.

Donald drags in a MALE dressed like Jenna.

GEORGE: Barbara, from now on, this is your sister Jenna.


GEORGE: (sternly) I said: this is your sister Jenna.

George turns to Donald.

The male spots where the cherry pie is hidden.

GEORGE: I’m glad that crisis is all over.

Barbara and the male tumble on the floor fighting over the cherry pie.

My Old Ad for the Bush Campaign

The Bush campaign has raised one hundred seventy million dollars. This money has come mostly from the rich.

That's one hundred seventy million dollars otherwise would have gone into savings or buying luxury items. Things like that are not the most productive for our society. Instead, the Bush campaign has redirected that one hundred seventy million dollars back into the economy. We’re keeping lots of people who make commercials, print brochures, and manufacture bumper stickers employed.

The Bush campaign. Our campaign IS our economic development program.

Baghdad Bob Meets Bubba Bob

BAGHDAD BOB speaks to the camera.

BOB: Hello, I am Muhammed Saeed al Sahaf. You may remember me by my nickname Bagdad Bob. Many have wondered what happened to me after I lost all credibility. After all, it was me claiming that no Americans had reached Baghdad while they were building a Starbucks behind me. So, what becomes of a public relations handler for Saddam Hussein after he has been thoroughly discredited? I am glad I have found the one employer left who will hire someone with my reputation. I am now a public relations handler for George W. Bush. Let me state that, as an Iraqi and as a person representing President Bush, I was thoroughly appalled at the recent pictures shown in the press. President Bush and I were both thoroughly disgusted to see photographs of men wearing women’s underwear, of sadomasochistic sex, of groups of naked bodied engaged in actual or simulated homosexual activity…

Bob looks forward, dreaming into space.

BOB: Lots and lots of naked bodies twisting and turning, turning and twisting…

Bob snaps to attention.

BOB: President Bush and I spent hours reviewing these photographs. Sometimes we would invite Condeleeza Rice in to view them with us. Sometimes, it would be just me and Georgie, alone. Anyway, after much careful review of these photographs, we have come to an important conclusion. These photographs are immoral and an affront to our ability to win the Christian Coalition vote. We have decided that the person responsible for staging these photographs must be eliminated. Therefore, I wish to announce that we have requested (pause) that Howard Stern be taken off the air. On other critical issues, President Bush, who likes to pretend he once worked in the management of the Texas Rangers baseball team when we all knew the team was only using him because he had the same name as his father, wishes to announce that he is taking bold action regarding the issue of Spiderman advertisement appearing on bases at games. To save the game, and to protect the ability of advertisers to market their products, the President is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice and allow advertisements be shown on himself during press conferences.

(What Bob is describing is shown behind Bob.)

BOB: At future press conferences, the spider web will appear on President Bush’s face.

(a further image appears, such as the Enron and Halliburton emblems appearing on Bush’s chest)

BOB: In addition, Bush’s suit will proudly display important American companies.

(a photograph of a dog with a pet store’s Stop Eating Poop product appears)

BOB: Bush’s pets will also get into the act.

(a picture of the Bush twins holding clearly labeled beers appears)

BOB: In fact, the entire Bush family is prepared to give their all for our country. So, remember, in these sad times, President Bush knows we all must make sacrifices. So, “Friends” is off the air. Maybe “Joey” will be just as good. We at the White House care how you feel. So, remember, vote Bush, watch Joey, and stop eating poop.

We're Bushed

The problem with the State of the Union this year was it fell on Groundhog Day. That day, George Bush woke up, saw his shadow, thought it was a weapon of mass destruction, and now there’ll be six more years of war in Iraq.

I love how George Bush keeps getting excited over the prospect of NASA sending a spaceship to the moon as soon as the year 2015. Hasn’t anyone told him yet we already have sent men to the moon?

I also like how the White House congratulated Mahmoud Abbas on his election as the Palestinian President even before the polls closed. They stated they could tell he was going to win based on the exit polls. Following that logic, at what point do you think President Bush called to congratulate Senator Kerry on his exit polling victory?

Some found lost transcripts:


SAM , a bartender, cleans glasses while speaking into the camera.

SAM: Cupid has slung many an arrow in this joint. Unfortunately, a drive-by retaliation knocked off Cupid. Still, Cupid played a very important role in our political system. Just a few years ago, Cupid’s magic worked right here. And the world has never been the same. I remember it well.

Sam picks up a swirly sign on an umbrella and twirls it around in one hand while holding a sign reading “FLASHBACK” in another.

Sam steps aside. BESSIE NEST sits at the bar sipping a drink and smoking a cigarette. GEORGE BUSH walks over and sits besides her.

GEORGE: Hello, Bessie Nest. What are your interests? That’s some mighty fine corporation contributions stuffed in that fine dress of yours

BESSIE: Back off, Governor Bush. I don’t go for the dumb cowboy type.

GEORGE: Oh, I’m not a cowboy. I’m a Harvard and Yale graduate.

BESSIE: Yeah, just barely, and you needed your father’s influence to get that.

GEORGE: I don’t need my father. I’ve got oil wells. Or, I had them, until I went broke. But I went broke all by myself.

BESSIE: That’s not all you’re going to be doing by yourself.

GEORGE: You know, Bessie, you should really pick a guy like me to be your big daddy.

BESSIE: I like the intellectual type. Someone who understands what it takes to get me to optimize my performance.

GEORGE: Like who? Ralph Nader.

BESSIE: Yes, like Ralph Nader. He knows how to best get my engine running.

GEORGE: Bessie, you know once you get in bed with him, he’s going to take total control over you. He’ll regulate your every behavior. You’ll feel restrained and unable to breathe.

BESSIE: OK, maybe not Ralph. But that Al Gore is still far smarter than you are. And Al Gore knows how to create the perfect environment to satisfy me.

GEORGE: Yes, but Al is one of those environmentally sensitive guys. You wind up with Al Gore, you’ll have to give up smoking. You wind up with me, I’ll let you smoke as much as you want wherever you want.

BESSIE: There’s John McCain. I love a guy in uniform.

GEORGE: Come, come, Bessie. John doesn’t even want a woman like you to spend her money. He thinks it corrupts the relationship. Me, I like it when a woman buys me a drink.

BESSIE: I guess I don’t have many options. But what can you offer me?

GEORGE: I can offer you what no other can: full devotion. I’ll give you whatever energy you want, I’ll fight any enemy you want me to fight.

CUPID runs through the bar, puts a Steve Martin arrow on Bessie’s head, and then runs out the exit.

BESSIE: Fine. I’ll write you a check for fifty million dollars. Something to get you started. Just one condition.

GEORGE: You name it.

BESSIE: I come with a Dick.

George looks around towards Bessie’s crotch.

GEORGE: You certainly had me fooled.

BESSIE: You are a fool. Not that kind of Dick. I mean that kind of Dick.

Bessie points to a table and waves. DICK CHENEY, seated, waves back.

DICK: Hi. I’m Dick Cheney. I’m in hiding. (pause) Get used to it.

GEORGE: Bessie, I accept your money. Now let’s go back to my house and start screwing (pause) this country.

George and Bessie stand, holds hand, and begin to exit. Dick stands and walks towards them.

BESSIE: This is the start of a beautiful relationship.

With George and Bessie holding hands while exiting, Dick wants to the other side of Bessie. Dick and Bessie put their arms around each other, hold each other close, and pat each other’s rears.

SAM: George and Bessie consummated their relationship, and nine months later an economic depression was born. George has been doing Bessie Nest’s bidding ever since. George found it more and more difficult to difficult to keep up with Bessie Ness’s demands. She wanted the finest oil from Alaska, and the most expensive airplanes, ships, and tanks there ever were. George found it harder and harder to keep up the payments on Bessie Nest’s spending frenzy. George’s budget was hopelessly in debt. George tried to gain more money by going on game shows.

Sam twirls the swirly sign and holds a sign reading “IT’S JUST AN UMBRELLA.”


George Bush and BARBARA WALTERS are contestants before a game show HOST.

The host throws confetti into air.

HOST: Welcome to the game show, Fire the Liar. This is the game where lying is fine, but to get caught lying by one of our panel of experts enough times, you’re fired. Let’s meet our contestants. Our first contestant is George Bush, and the card says he’s the President of a major enterprise. Our second contestant is Barbara Walters. Barbara, what do you do for a living?

BARBARA: I am a respected newscaster with several decades of experience on major television networks.

The host holds a large paper reading “CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES” into the air and begins tearing it while talking.

HOST: Yeah, right, like we’re to believe that. Barbara, the idea is not to get fired before the game even begins. Alright, contestant number one, you know how the game is played. Begin.

GEORGE: Ahh, well, Saddam Hussein, see, was behind the September 11 terrorist attacks, and he’s got loads of weapons of mass destruction, and we need to invade Iraq because the international community wants us to.

The host throws the pieces of the torn Constitution into the air.

HOST: And our judges say that’s believable. One point for George Bush. Now, Barbara, your turn.

BARBARA: The war in Iraq is not going as well as planned. The death rate is higher in Iraq than the first days of the Viet Nam War. Iraq is a country in great instability.

HOST: Sorry, our panelist from Fox News saw right through that lie. Barbara, that’s a negative one point for you. George, you’re in the lead. Your turn.

GEORGE: Reduced pollution standards are not only more profitable for our major corporation, but there are no health risks in allowing our environment to become dirtier. Air pollution makes your lungs work hard, and that’s good for your lungs. Carcinogenic particles are actually fun.

HOST: Alright, our panel agrees. Two points for George Bush.

BARBARA: But that’s a total lie what Bush just said.

HOST: Oh, I’m sorry, that’s another negative point for you, Barbara. Our panel dislikes it when you interrupt the game with yet another lie. Yet, it’s still your turn, Barbara, as if that’s your real name.

BARBARA: Our health care system is a total mess. Few Americans, including industry specialists and treating physicians, can tell what medical procedures are covered by what insurance policies. We spend more money on the administration of health care than we do on pharmaceutical medication.

HOST: Woa, the entire panel is gagging. What a lie, Barbara. You’re just no good at this game. Score, Bush two, Walters negative three. George, your turn.

GEORGE: I graduated as one of the top students from Yale University, then attended Harvard Business School, where I was also an excellent student. I used my business knowledge to create a very successful oil company and a professional baseball team. My business successes propelled the voters of Texas to insist I become their Governor, where I was so good at the job that I was elected President of the United States with more votes than any other candidate.

HOST: Wow, that was an easy one. Our panel agrees that was all truthful. Bush, I believe you are physically incapable of lying. We now end with our bonus round. Contestants, what is your social background? Barbara, you begin.

BARBARA: I’m a woman who…

HOST: Woa,,I’m sorry. Didn’t you read the notice at our glass ceiling entrance? I’m sorry, Barbara, but women aren’t allowed to win at this game. George, your turn.

GEORGE: I was born a wealthy Republican…

HOST: That’s it. Game over. Barbara, you’re fired. George, you’re our automatic winner tonight. You have won the right to go out and lie all you want, but, because, believe me, a wealthy male Republican politician is like James Bond. You have won A License to Lie.

The host picks up an index card and reads from it.

HOST: Join us next week for Fire the Liar when our contestants will be Donald Rumsfeld versus Whoopie Goldberg.

The host throws the card into the air and yells backstage.

HOST: Come on, can’t you make this game at least a little competitive?

President's State of the Anti-Union

President Bush asked if I would draft him a speech. Here is the returned speech after the White House made a few corrections. What do readers think:

Statement of President George W. “Dubya Your Pleasure” Bush:

Outsourcing American jobs to other countries is good for the economy. If just ten Americans would be willing to sacrifice their jobs so that nine other Americans can get lower paying jobs, the profitability of our country’s multinational enterprises will expand so that nines of other Americans can reap the rewards of the sacrifices of tens of other Americans.

I am not asking Americans to make this sacrifice without myself making this same sacrifice. I have looked around the White House and found that, I too, can save money by outsourcing White House jobs.

The Commerce Secretary provides companies with federal loans. That work can be done just as well by a phone operator in India. Thus, I wish to announce that my new Commerce Secretary is Rajib, or Rajob, or something like that, from New Delhi, or Punjab, or something like that.

Under the terms of NAFTA, if another North American country can provide the same service, I must allow that service into our country. Thus, my Labor Secretary is now a Canadian high school Economics teacher, my new Attorney General is a corrupt Mexico City police officer, and my Transportation Secretary is a Montreal cab driver who doesn’t speak English.

It makes logical sense that I outsource my Defense Secretary. I need someone familiar with foreign countries so I have a better understanding of how to kill them. I have hired the best expert on terrorism in the world, and, thus, I wish to announce that my new Defense Secretary is a terrorist expert named Benjamin Ladin, who lives in Afghanistan, or perhaps Pakistan. I’m not sure which, but whichever it is, I am certain he knows more about the job that any American does.

For those concerned that I have outsourced all my Cabinet, I want you to know that my Agriculture Secretary will remain an American. Granted, it is an illegal migrant farm worker. Yet, if the Latino vote goes Republican, I promise I will grant all illegal immigrants full citizenship, so my Agriculture Secretary will indeed be an American.

Plus, my Vice President will remain an American. It is just that he’s been in a secret location, which is actually outside the country, so much that his job has practically already been outsourced.

I am going to even save our country more money by outsourcing my own job. Thus, I am announcing that I am becoming a French bar maid. For this day forth, I will work only for the tips that people attending White House functions provide. I will, however, only keep half of all proceeds I derive from any lap dances I provide. At last, I have found a way to save my country money, and to perform a job to which I am truly qualified.

Good night, America, and cheers.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

Female Jokes (You Can Tell the Difference By Holding the Jokes Up and Looking)

The following are jokes meant for female comics. Like the State Department: as a member of the male race, I disavow any knowledge of them. Yet, I came across them, and thought I would share some for readers:

This is a rough town. The first time I arrived, I saw a crazy person yelling to himself and shouting obscenities and then, every so often, he’d stop and do a back flip. I watched in amazement. You actually have to have talent in this town even to be crazy.
Guys are like dogs. They both look at you with puppy dog eyes and pretend they’ll be loyal to you, but the minute you let them at that door to do their business, they’ll mate with anything. You can put a leash on them, but if the opportunity presents itself, they’ll hump the short haired beauty right in front of you. You know what they’re thinking: “That’s a nice bitch next door. I think I’ll do her doggy style…in the front yard.”
How many have found an article of a lover’s clothing in your bed? How can people leave and forget to put on a major piece of clothing? Frankly, if you’re getting dressed, and you’re looking at your underwear and you can’t remember what it is so you throw it back into the bed, I think that’s an early test for Alzheimer’s.
The problem with men is they’re hard wiring is not compatible to the female input system. Researchers have found the most common male fantasy is---anyone guess?---that’s right, winning at sports. The second most common male fantasy is: two women. So it really is hard to find many faithful men. When you’re dating a guy with a two women fantasy, he’s already fantasizing about the other woman while he’s with you.
Men ask me all the time: how can we tell when a woman is faking an orgasm? Let me give you this advice: generally, if you’re done in less than three minutes and then fall asleep, chances are, she’s faking it.
Men ask me all the time: how can a man best pleasure a woman? That’s really simple. Gently massage us for hours, buy us lots of gifts, and then, and this is the important part: leave.
Did you know there are guys who like to have sex while driving a car? And people wonder why auto insurance rates are increasing. Get it up while driving, you get your rates up, too.
I have heard that power is the greatest aphrodisiac. I have my doubts about that. If that were true, why aren’t there groupies tossing their panties to the Pope?
There are some really sick people out there. That’s why there are sex offender registries. And no, women, don’t let a guy try to explain that being on that registry means you’re supposed to buy him a gift.
Women are from Venus, men are from Mars, and my boyfriends are from Hades. And I wish they would return there. I know I make that recommendation to them on a regular basis.
I have a fashion question: How much lower can pants go? At the rate we’re going, pants are essentially going to be socks that make it hard for us to walk.
The latest fashion trend is not fastening the top button of your pants. Saves a crucial fraction of a second during those intimate moments. This is a good trend: many obese people had already been way ahead of the curve on this one.

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Don't Do Drugs and Turn Into Keith Richards, and Don't Name Your Son Saddam

I am a dyslexic paraskevidekatriaphobic: instead of fearing Fridays the 13th, I fear Mondays the 31st. I was thinking of writing a horror movie about a dyslexic paraskevidekatriaphobic killer who gets things backwards: every month a 31st falls on a Monday, instead of slaughtering teenagers, he goes to old age homes and tells them jokes. I promise: people will be running from the theaters screaming.

I met a politician who agrees with a proposal that political candidates be drug tested. What worries me is: he favors drug testing because he keeps forgetting what drugs he took, and he figures the test will remind him.

Speaking of drugs: has anyone seen any of the interviews with Keith Richards? I think the best way to stop teenagers from doing drugs is to show them Keith Richards and explain to them that this is what doing drugs will do to you. I promise: they’ll run out screaming.

A city whose sports team who lost a sporting event broke into a riot. This upsets me greatly because it shows a deep lack of respect for an important area of being a good sport: only the city of a team that wins gets to riot.

It was announced that you can lose weight just by reading. So, from now on, I am offering this blog as a healthy, weight losing activity. Read on.

Jesus Christ is alive and living in West Virginia. A man legally changed his name to Jesus Christ. Where he lived wouldn’t let him do it, so he moved to West Virginia, where, I guess, at this point, they figured, why not? What’s making him nervous is his neighbors changed their names to Herod and Judas Iscariot, and they keep inviting him to go rafting.

This reminds me when Santa Clause died. Yes, Virginia, there was a Santa Clause, and he’s dead. A man legally changed his name to Santa Clause once, and I remember when he died. I am certain children everywhere were traumatized when they heard that Santa Clause had died. That got me to thinking: I would never deliberately change my name to something where people would be traumatized when they hear I died. Therefore, I am legally changing my name to George W. Bush.

Pat Robertson has me worried. He stated recently that liberal Judges are more of a threat than al Qaeda. Now, I don’t know about him, but if I’m on an airplane, I would feel more comfortable if the guy sitting next me turns to me and says “as a judge, I will uphold Roe v. Wade” than if he turns to me and says “death to all Americans.”

I hope al Qaeda doesn’t read this blog, because I know what they should do: they should recruit masochists. Think of it: the worse thing that could happen to a masochist serving in al Qaeda is getting arrested and tortured, only not only would they love it, they’d probably give the guards instructions on how to better lead them around in leashes while tied up.

I recall when my wife told me that Bill Clinton and I have the same taste in ties. Sure enough, there was President Clinton on a magazine cover wearing the exact same tie I had. “No,” I explained to my wife, “Bill Clinton and I do not have the same taste in ties. You and Hillary have the same taste in ties.”

Let’s face it. We men have no idea how to pick a tie. We know how to pick mud flaps. If we had to pick our own ties, all ties would be of naked women and Calvin peeing.

I was in line when a young boy kept running around. His parents kept telling him “Saddam, get back here”, “Saddam, put that down”, “Saddam, be quiet.” My advice: if you’ve named your son Saddam, it’s time to pick a new first name. Or at least give him a nickname you can use. Billy Bob might do better these days. Or Jesus Christ: that name suddenly is popular again.

I am told my mother’s old friend will be dropping by soon. She met him a few years ago: he was a disheveled, disfigured alcoholic stumbling around the beach. She tried to give him money, but she couldn’t understand a word he said and he kept refusing to take her money. She got suspicious when this homeless man then got on a large yacht and sailed away. So, we look forward to our visit soon from Keith Richards.

So, remember, young Saddam: don't do drugs, stay in school, and just tell conservatives at least you're not a liberal Judge.

Sunday, May 01, 2005

When Art Literally Moves Next Door to You

There is art sitting next to my house, on the sidewalk. I am told this art piece will be there every day between 8 am and 8 pm, and people are invited to pass by and view it. This piece of art is a human being. He is doing this for a year. He will be next to my house few a couple of months, I understand.

Of course, I can see some of my art friends gathering around this human art piece.

“What’s this?”
“It’s art.”
“It can’t be art. It’s a person.”
“Why can’t a person be art?”
“But it wasn’t created by an artist.”
“It was created by someone. It’s God’s art.”
“Does God consider this art?”
“I should think it’s one of his better works, up there with the armadillo.”
“If a person can be art, does that mean anything can be art?”
“Art is subjective. It’s what you think is art.”
“So, do you like this particular piece of art?”
“I think it represents the insensitivity of humans that we are so biased that we minimize the definition of art to a select pieces that can appreciated only by wealthy collectors and museums and then presented to a less wealthy public who are made to feel inferior by their inability to purchase art, when in fact art is all around us.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s not to be liked or disliked, it is to point out the inhumanity of how we limit our appreciation of art while neglecting that all around us is art, and all things can be appreciated for their own beauty, and that we walk past beautiful things every day while pretending to only appreciate things that towards which we told are that which are limited to appreciate as art.”
“I like it. Especially the shirt.”

Further down the street, someone has placed a tall orange potted plastic palm tree on the sideway. My art friends continue their conversation:

“Is this art?”
“It’s the most evil thing you’ll probably see today. It represents the insensitivity towards our natural world that we must take something from nature, form it into orange plastic, and use it to represent something from nature that is alive and even more beautiful.”
“I like it. Especially the leaves.”

Today’s lesson: You might have a drinking problem if you so drunk, when you breathe into your car’s breathalyzer, the engine catches fire. Now that’s art.

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