CURRENT ISSUE 04/08/03 Front Page Weekly Features Advice from Strangers Ain't That America? To-Do List Riding Shotgun With Adventure Alaric Musing With Mitch Moth's Diary News from Travistan Movie Corner Info Archives Crap Shop Who's at Fault? Contact Us! Aye, mateys! Get you some Daily Probe booty!	Saturday 5th April Dined with the Phresh Prince of Baghdad in his underground bunker with my former camp counselor, "Rusty," now a human shield who is tediously waiting for his exit visa to be approved. Out came the delectable spread for which this leader is justly feared: Tuna Helper dry-rubbed on Slim Jims just prior to microwaving, pickled Kurd's feet, and McTavish's whisky. "No rules. Just right," Rusty whispered as he pretended to pick up a dropped napkin. The dictator sat at table with his right arm extended as though he were a night manager of a Motel 6 in Dubai, and smiled stupidly throughout the meal, saying nothing. At the end of the evening, feeling slapped from the cheap malt, I told Hussein that I thought he was his own double. He laughed uproariously and had someone killed. I apologized for my mistake and vomited noiselessly into my gas mask. We watched a *Cowboy Bebop* DVD together and Iraq's president averred that all Iraqi women have anime-quality bosoms, an assertion that I personally found intriguing, and made a mental note to verify this statement scientifically at a later date. Later, at the coat-check I hurriedly slipped on my burqa and trotted home in time to catch Aaron Brown, "The Lazy Librarian," on CNN. Slept like a decal on a cruise missile. Dreamt of the shrieking double-time Slim Jim demon.
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