BlameBush!

On Sheryl Crow's Little Extravagance

Sheryl Crow must think her shit don’t stink. Sure, her announcement that she doesn’t thoroughly wipe her ass seems like something to admire on the surface. But when you consider that a tree still had to die for her single square of toilet paper, you suddenly realize that one square is one square too many.

That’s why long before Crow began daintily swabbing her sphincter with a postage stamp, Seattle Hemp Products had already declared itself a Tish-Free Zone. I’m proud to say that the entire company has completely refrained from wiping for almost six weeks now, preferring to allow our fudge to crust over and naturally crumble away with minimal harm to the environment. Suffice it to say that the policy has been incredibly popular and a great boost to company morale, with only a few soggy diapers in the bunch. That is, until Little Miss Wipes-Alot opened her big yapper. Now I have a potential mutiny on my hands.

“Everything from the waste down is on fire,” Steve from Accounting whined as he crawled on all fours into my cubicle this morning. “I can’t sit in a chair. I can’t walk. I feel like I’ve been sodomized by the entire population of Tijuana. Sheryl Crow uses one square, so why can’t I? One little square, that’s all I’m asking for. One little square!”

“Sure no problem!” I chirped. “Who needs forests, anyway? They’re so overrated. Trees are nice and all, but goshdarnit Steve’s poor little po-po is sore! Oh, and I’ll call the polar bears to let them know that they get to starve to death up north just so Steve can feel a little more comfy down below the equator.”

“My wife left me,” he went on, ignoring my sarcasm. “My kids hate me. Even the dog won’t come near me. This morning, I think I felt something squirming around up there. I have no idea what it is. Frankly, I’m afraid to look.”

“I’ll tell you what it is!” I exclaimed. “It’s an ecosystem! Don’t you see? It would be genocide to wipe your ass now! Sorry, Steve-o, but you’re going to have to just suck it up and live with a little discomfort like the rest of us.”

“’Rest of us’ my @$#*%!” Steve spat back.

“What do you mean?” I asked, eying him suspiciously.

“I mean you look pretty damn cozy sitting there on your supposedly raw and strangely odor-free backside all day. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been wiping your ass on the sly, Chomstein!”

I sprang out of my chair and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You take that back! I haven’t wiped my ass in weeks! My butt stinks like you wouldn't believe! I have dangleberries the size of Volvos! So don’t you DARE question my commitment to the cause! I have the greenest rectum in this company, and don't you forget it!"

“Sure, whatever you say, Chomstein,” he replied, his voice lowering to a whisper. “But I sure wouldn’t want such a vicious rumor to get around the office, if you know what I mean.”

Ah, blackmail, is it? Damn that Crow! I know celebrities are used to living a life of luxury, but does she have any idea what a bad example she’s setting with her little extravagance? No matter. We down here on the front lines of the war will take up the slack. Yes, it is a war – a war not only against Bush’s Big Toilet Paper buddies, but a war to save our planet from those who would wipe their asses with the future of our planet.

As I watched Steve crawl away with his ill-gotten square of toilet paper, I knew deep down that even despite Crow’s selfish remarks, it’s a war that we will win.

5:00am - 6:00am (Season Finale)

Four days after the deadliest shooting rampage in American history, all the soul-searching has given me a severe case of the collywobbles. So in lieu of blogging today, I present the Season Finale of 24 in the Life of Carl Schmalberg, CTU Custodian.

What Turns a Man Into a Monster?

Three days after the deadliest shooting rampage in American history, many are left wondering what could have possibly driven a seemingly bright young man to acts of such unspeakable evil. Was it violent video games? Rap music? Bush's tax cuts for the wealthiest one percent of Americans? Or was it the result of bad parenting, perhaps?

Highly unlikely. My childhood wasn’t exactly idyllic, but I would never dream of harming another human being. If someone put a gun into my hand, though, there’d be nothing to stop me from marching over to Mr. Caruther’s condo, kicking down his door, and popping a cap into his fat Repug ass.

“YOU MADE ME DO THIS CARUTHERS!” I’d scream at him. “YES, YOU!! WITH YOUR BIG FANCY SCHMANCY SUV AND YOUR SEMPER FI BUMPERSTICKER ON THE BACK AND RUSH FATTY PILLPOPPER BLARING FROM YOUR FANCY SCHMANCY CAR STEREO! I HATE YOU, CARUTHERS!!!! I HATE YOU, AND NOW YOU’RE GOING TO DIE, RIGHT HERE, IN YOUR POORLY DECORATED LIVING ROOM, YOU RIGHT-WING CHICKENHAWK!!!”

“No I’m not,” Caruthers would say.

“OH YES YOU ARE!” I’d insist.

“No I’m not,” he’d insist back.

“YES YOU ARE! YES YOU ARE! YES YOU ARE!”

“No I’m not,” he'd sigh, and go back to biting the heads off of puppies, or whatever it is that Repugs do when there aren't any Blacks around to lynch or poor people to screw over.

“OKAY, JUST SUPPOSING FOR A MOMENT THAT YOU’RE RIGHT," I'd offer, "EXPLAIN TO ME EXACTLY WHY YOU AREN’T GOING TO DIE LIKE THE NEOCON PIG YOU ARE.”

“Because you left the safety on,” he’d reply with that smug little smirk of his.

“NO I DIDN’T!” I’d say.

“Yes you did,” he’d insist, “and you’re holding the gun wrong. The barrel is supposed to point away from you.”

‘NO IT’S NOT!” I’d retort.

“Yes it is,” he’d volley.

‘NO IT’S NOT! NO IT’S NOT! NO IT’S NOT!”

“Fine then,” he’d relent. “Go ahead and pull the trigger.”

I’d hesitate for a moment, perhaps caught off guard by his utter stupidity, and he’d seize the moment to quickly snatch the gun from my fingers and pistol-whip me to a bloody pulp right there in his poorly decorated living room.

Mother would show up drunk at the funeral. She’d probably try to get into the preacher’s pants. Then she’d strip naked in front of everyone and start dancing around like she’s back at Woodstock until she clumsily knocked my casket over, spilling my pale, rotting cadaver onto the ground.

‘YOU BITCH!! YOU RUINED MY LIFE!”

But the blame for my terrible fate is not hers. It belongs to Bush and his NRA cronies for putting that gun into my hands. You see, it’s not one’s upringing, nor rap music, nor is it being bombarded with violent imagery since before he could crawl that turns a man into a monster. It’s not a culture lacking a moral compass that creates someone who could pick up a gun and murder 33 innocent people without any remorse. It’s George W. Bush.

But it’s also the mere existence and ready availability of guns that drives men to kill one another.

But mostly it’s Bush.

Virginia Tech: Who is to Blame?

Two days after the deadliest shooting rampage in American history, many are left wondering who ultimately was reponsible. Was it the school officials who failed to act quickly enough to prevent the attack? Was it the creative writing professyms who saw all the signs but chose to ignore them? Was it the bumbling school janitor who parked his mop bucket right in front of the “Gun-Free Zone” sign? Or was it the guy who actually pulled the trigger? Wild theories abound. The goofy European newspapers, though well-intentioned, are even blaming Charton Heston for the shootings that left 33 stidents dead and 9 wounded. But such baseless accusations in our time of national mourning does a great disservice to those who lost their lives. No, the responsibility for what happened last Monday lies squarely on one person, and one person alone: George W. Bush.

After all it was Bush who, on orders from Heston, launched an illegal and immoral war in Iraq to desensitize Americans to violence, so that the gun lobby could continue putting deadly weapons into the hands of confused children unabated and with full cooperation from the Bush Junta. Or maybe Bush allowed the rampage to occur just to frighten people into buying more guns. Or maybe it was all the work of a psychopath who walked into a college campus and opened fire with no remorse for his actions - but that's just pure speculation.

The Shrub will probably swagger away from this whole ordeal completely oblivious to the blood on his hands. However, perhaps this terrible tragedy will finally be a wake up call for Americans to demand an end to the NRA, or any other organization whose sole purpose it to defend portions of the Bill of Rights that don’t have anything to do with sex.

School Shooting Reveals the Need for Bigger Gun-Free Zone Signs

One day after the deadliest shooting rampage in American history, many are left wondering why it happened and what can be done to prevent it from happening again. Certainly, more thorough background checks would reveal whether a prospective gun owner had gone on any wild murder-suicide sprees in the past. Mandatory creative writing classes for all firearm purchases would also be a way to determine if someone has an unhealthy obsession with violence and gore, or is simply applying for a job at CBS.

Whether you’re in favor of such sensible gun control laws, or a mind-numbed minion of Chuck Heston, everyone can at least agree that Gun-Free Zones as they currently exist don’t quite work. Although Virginia Tech was a proud “Gun-Free Zone”, firearms still somehow found their way onto the campus. Obviously the so-called “gunman” wasn’t aware that he had entered such a zone, or else he would have thought twice about gunning down 33 innocents before shooting himself in the face. Bigger, bolder “Gun-Free Zone” signs would be harder to ignore, but renaming the entire school “Gun-Free Zone Tech” would send a clear message to any suicidal maniacs that bringing guns to school will NOT be tolerated, and that slaughtering scores of your classmates could result in expulsion and possibly even the forfeiture of all your credits. To discourage individuals from cleverly standing just outside the Gun-Free Zone and firing into the campus, the zone’s boundaries should also be expanded to encompass all 50 states, and as rigorously enforced as gun control laws currently on the books.

The concept of Gun-Free Zones is a noble one, and with a little revamping it can be far more effective. 33 out of the 34 people that died in Virginia Tech’s Gun Free Zone were actually following the rules. There’s no reason to believe that expanding the program nationally won’t provide the same results.

Guns Used in Shooting Spree Possibly Had a Human Attached to Them

Two hours after several students were gunned down at a Virginia university today, gunshots erupted again on the other side of the campus - rudely interrupting the Healing Process long before anyone’s grief had a chance to be validated with lucrative book deals or appearances on Oprah. 

As the news media scrambled to ask what firearms were used in the rampage and how quickly we could ban them, rumors surfaced that a human being may have somehow been attached to the weapons at the trigger. Several witnesses described seeing a young Asian male's fingers wrapped around two 9mm handguns that seemed to be magically floating in mid-air.

No one is sure how it happened, but it’s possible that the guns sucked him into Virginia Tech through the Gun Show Loophole and dragged him around the campus while they fired indiscrimately at helpless students.  If so, it'll be the worst such incident since a pair of assault weapons dragged two helpless students through the halls of Columbine High School in 1991, murdering 12 innocent teens. Like the Columbine tragedy, the guns that attacked Virginia Tech ultimately turned on their host, and their wild killing spree came to an end.

Unable to pin this latest tragedy on Muslims like they did with 9/11, the cons are suggesting that the Chinese man attached to the guns was somehow “responsible” for the slaughter. I can already hear the hate-radio pundits using it as a reason to demand tighter immigration laws. It disgusts me to no end that repuigs can exploit such a tragedy to further their twisted political agenda before the body of the victim is even cold.

However, any inbred redneck with an NRA membership will tell you that automatic weapons virtually fire themselves, hence the term “automatic weapons”. Until lawmakers have the courage to ban such firearms and repeal Bush's tax cuts for the wealthiest one percent of Americans, we can expect to see more innocent Chinese kids with fist-sized holes in their faces courtesy of Bush's illegal and immoral war in Iraq.

Global War on What?

Democrat leaders have won a major battle in their courageous war on Bush propaganda. In a March 27 memo, the House Armed Services Committee officially banned the term “Global War on Terror” from all documents and discussion, as it unfairly implies that such a war actually exists. To insure that the People’s Business is conducted in a fashion that is as nonpartisan as possible, a system of hand signals will now be used in place of “The Global War on Terror” and other verboten Right-Wing catchphrases.

I’ve painstakingly slopped a few of them together for your perusal. Feel free to implement these signals in your home, workplace, or institution of higher learning.

Nancy Pelosi Wins British Sailors their Freedom AND Peace in the Middle East

"Your emminence," Nancy purred with a slight genuflect.  "I bring word from Prime Minister Olmert that Israel is ready to --"

"Die?" exclaimed Assad, his long, llama-like neck undulating with excitement. "Committ mass suicide and burn in hell like the Jewish pig dogs they are? Nancy, you red hot monkey woman, you!! I KNEW you could do it!"

"Actually," the saucy Speaker continued, "I was going to say that they are ready to talk peace."

"Oh," he sighed.  "That's good, too...I guess.  So will this "peace" you speak of result in more dead Jews?"

"Doesn't it always?" Nancy replied with a wink.

"Right-o!" The President chirped. "And you actually got Olmert to sign on to this peace thing?"

"It was his idea," Nancy answered. "But he'd like something in return. Perhaps a gesture to the West that the road to Damascus truly is paved with - "

"Dead jews?" Assad interrupted, his tiny, tick-like head suddenly poking through the dark clouds of gloom.

Nancy smiled diminutively. "I was going to say 'peace' again, Señor Presidente."

"Say no more, snookums!" Assad sprang out of bed and grabbed his special hotline to Iranian President  Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. "Moo Moo, Baby! It's me, Bashar! I got Nancy over here and - yes, she still likes to hog all the blankets! Anyway, about those guests of yours..."

Hours later, the 15 British guests of the Iranian People bid a fond adieu to their gracious hosts - no worse for the wear, but perhaps a little fatter, a tad bit tanner, and greatly indebted to the diplomacy skills of our very own Nancy Pelosi.

4:00 AM - 5:00 AM

Terror at Sixteen Feet

There was a time, back before Bush's Reigh of Terror, when groups of sweaty, Middle Eastern males could chant “Allahu Ackbar” in a crowded airport without attracting so much as a second glance from fellow travellers. It appears those days are long gone. That’s the lesson six Muslim holy men learned last fall when they were forcibly removed from United Airways Flight 300 flight for attempting to turn a typically boring experience into a fun-filled and educational adventure for everyone.

No one knows for sure why the passengers of Flight 300 were so nervous about flying with Muslims. It's truly a mystery. But the whole thing stinks worse than human flesh being consumed by burning jet fuel to me. As an American, I’m embarassed and ashamed for the way the Imams were treated. I imagine they must’ve felt a little like the Muslim passengers of United Airlines Flight 93, whose private moment of quiet prayer was rudely interrupted by intolerant Americans pounding on the cockpit door.

Todd Beamer and his Merry Band of Bigots may have escaped justice, but the nameless John and Jane Does of Flight 300 won’t get off so easy. Lawsuits are currently being filed against those who reported the befuddled Imams to the airport gestapo. It’s not about the money, though. It’s not even about teaching people to think twice before inconveniencing any Muslim travellers who just happen to be gleefully slashing a flight attendant’s throat open with a box cutter in accordance with the Holy Quran. It’s about insuring that all fliers, Muslim and and non-Muslim alike, are treated fairly and equally by everyone, right up until the moment the plane hits the ground.