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May 11, 2005

Bush Disappointed at Lack of Braves Fans in Georgia

TBILISI, GEORGIA (DPI) President Bush arrived in the former Soviet republic of Georgia this week eager to thank his supporters for delivering the state's 15 electoral votes in 2004. Donning an Atlanta Braves ball cap, Bush began his remarks at the Tbilisi airport by joking that his political advisers urged him to leave his Nationals cap on board Air Force One. "We're only trailing you by two games in the NL East," Bush said. "But I know better than to enter the Peach State without my foam Tomahawk." President Mikhail Saakashvili reportedly had little to offer on the subject of John Smoltz's fastball. "He droned on and on about some neighboring town called Chechnya," said a White House aide. "The president conceded that the geography of the Florida Panhandle is not his expertise, but he promised to put his brother Jeb on the case."

(Reported by Dallas Davidson)

Assbutter Online Pharmacy Forced Out of Business

PADUCAH, Ky. (DPI) The Kentucky Pharmacology Board and the Better Business Bureau of Paducah have forced pharmacist Chancre Q. Assbutter to shut down his business, The agencies have charged Assbutter with dispensing more than 500 prescriptions using inferior, untested or unsafe medications, and 48 counts of fraud and identity theft. Assbutter called the accusations a case of mistaken identity. "I tried telling those bureau guys that there must be another Chancre Q. Assbutter engaging in unscrupulous business, but for some reason they wouldn't even hear it," said Assbutter. Assbutter said he plans to call his brother Penitence Z. Assbutter, a mortgage broker, and twin sisters Lugubrious G. and Frothy L. Assbutter, adult entertainers, to warn them of frauds potentially committed in their names.

(Reported by Lars Eisenberg)

Satisfied Customers Doom Sony Director

NEW YORK (DPI) - In a move signaling dissatisfaction with spiraling costs, Sony Electronics USA has fired Director of Difficult Rebate Acquisitions and Innocuous Check Mailings Rick Margot. "We had a sharp spike in consumers obtaining rebates from our products and actually cashing those rebate checks," said spokesman Myla Findle. "That's an expense we don't figure into the budget." Some industry watchers say the firing was unfair and point to Margot's refusal to allow Internet redemption and decision to mail payments in envelopes disguised as junk mail marked "You May Have Already Won." Innovative or not, consumer satisfaction ratings on the Sony rebate system rose to an unheralded 34 percent, a level unacceptable by industry standards. "When that many people think their money is their money, you are certainly out of a job," said one insider.

(Reported by Davejames)

John Bolton Bites Head Off Bat at Confirmation Hearing

Idaho Closed Due to Lack of Interest

Re-Elected Blair Free to Marry Camilla Parker Bowles

Local Cell Phone Company Willing to Do Whatever It Fucking Takes to Sign You

Spike Lee Chastises Self for Not Being Black Enough

Fuck Globilization; or Why Foriegners
No Longer Kiss American Ass

A guest Probeatorial
by Mike Williamson

I've decided that I am completely, absolutely, unapologeticly against globilization, and I'll tell you why:

There was a time, not too long ago, when foriegners were expected to kiss American's ass. Now I know I'm probably not being too politicly correct when I say that, but fuck PC — I'm an angrey man. Globilization changed everything.

I just got back from a vacation in Europe — 14 cities in 10 days. We covered all the major metropolitan areas and saw all the sites. Your Eifful Tower, your Roman Colliseum, your Big Ben, what have you. Saw 'em all. But at no point did a single European kiss my ass. Have these people forgotten that we are the biggest, baddest superpower in the world? Do they not realize that we can nuke they're asses anytime we feel like it?!?

Man, I remember when we were revered just for owning a pair of Levi's. Now every country has Levi's — in fact, Levi's are made in other countrys, not in the U.S. of A., and that's another thing that pisses me off. And remember when they loved us for inventing rock 'n roll? These ungreatful bastards have conveinently forgotten about all that. Hell, they think any skinny dork with a guitar can be rock 'n roll — sorry, Pierre, but it's only rock if it comes from America, my friend.

Maybe I'm just living in the past, but I liked it better when European chicks thought American guys were cool. Now they just heap on the scorn everytime you ask them for directions or something. And you can forget about getting laid over there, unless you're willing to renownce your citizenship.

It's a sad state of affairs these days in Europe. These people used to worship us like Gods. Now because of globilization, they think their on equal status with us Americans. Hey, you do what you gotta do, Marco, but if you keep up the nasty behavior, you can just quit using our goddammed internet.

Riding Shotgun 
With Adventure 

by Ron Langston 

Ron Lancaster

Chapter 48 — A Supersized Adventure

When a man cannot bring the sandwich to him, he must bring himself to the sandwich. My journey was guided by Enrique Salazar, a 20-year veteran sandwich wrangler.

Salazar brought me to San Antonio's infamous Santa Ana Mall food court, where he said the new Macho Grande Sandwich could be obtained. Salazar warned me that the denizens of the food court were a hearty band, unaccustomed to niceties such as napkins or deodorant, and we must prepare our taste buds accordingly. We chewed dried pieces of cactus bark to block our pores and sinuses against all outside stimuli.

The Macho Grande Sandwich was the offering of the Peyote Pit Barbeque, and consisted of 30 pounds of rubbed pork, two heads of cabbage, four wheels of cheddar cheese, a dozen fried tarantula rings, and a sprig of parsley. "The Slop Trough Cafe, on the lower level of the mall, used to feature a 20-pound armadillo sandwich, but the Peyote Pit prides itself on serving only the largest of Tex-Mex cuisine," explained Salazar.

After we pushed our way through the teeming masses, each person clutching a bowl of chicken parts in various sauces, over rice, we found ourselves before the Peyote Pit's fiery hearth. The heat was like what Pat Robertson would wish on a Wiccan lesbian wedding. Salazar ordered us two Macho Grandes. But our quest was for naught. No more pork today. We would have to wait until another shipload of swine arrived from Tijuana next week, Salazar told me.

"Via con queso," he said. "Go with cheese, my friend."

Next time: Chapter 49 — Mano a Mano With the Big Gulp

(Transcribed by Slick Sharkey)

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