A fire caused Hosting Matters to be down most of the day, but it looks like I’m back. I worked long and hard on today’s In My World™ (number one of at least a two-parter), and it is finally viewable again, so I’m just going to leave that as the sole post (other than this one) and maybe do some more Frank Answers™ tomorrow afternoon.
Carnival of the Vanities was up, then went down with everyone else, and is up again.
UPDATE: Hell, one more thing. The Nuke the Moon shirts are available for pre-order now.
Thanks to Fritz for the graphic.
Archive of entries posted on 28th May 2003
In My World: Black Project Insano Part I
Jacques Chirac sat in his office contemplating how superior he was to all other foreign leaders, when suddenly the phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hey… uh… this is Pierre. You know… Pierre.”
“Oh, hello, Pierre. How are you?”
“I’m great.”
“You’re not sounding very French today.”
“I have a cold. Anyway, I was looking for Chezz. Do you know him?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, he should be with two other people somewhere near your office. The other two are Sue and Norm. If you could get them for me, I’d appreciate it.”
“Certainly. Just to be clear, though, what are their last names?”
“Well, Chezz’s last name is Eaton. Sue’s last name is… uh… I can’t remember. But I know, Norm’s; it’s Unkies.”
“Unkies?”
“Yeah, I don’t what nationality that name is.”
“Well, I’ll go see if I can find them.”
“Thanks Jacque-strap; you’re a real help.”
Chirac took his cordless phone with him as he headed out into the main lobby. “Are you Chezz Eaton, Sue, and Norm Unkies?” he asked the first group he saw. He then shouted out, “Are there Chezz Eaton, Sue, and Norm Unkies here? Someone check the nearby military base for Chezz Eaton, Sue, and Norm Unkies!”
Everyone started laughing.
“Oh, it’s you again!” Chirac said angrily into the phone, “When I find out who this is, I’ll impotently demand to you to stop!”
The only response was more laughter.
“Oh, that was classic,” Bush chuckled as he hung up the phone. “Aren’t you going to miss this when you leave, Ari?”
“Hey, man, I told you; I have to follow my heart,” Ari Fleischer replied, “I just know my band ‘American Hellbender’ is going to take off big with its mix of reggae, techno, and country done to a new age beat.”
“Can we get to the business at hand?” Condoleezza Rice demanded angrily, “There are lots of evil nations out there, and they aren’t going to bomb themselves! Well, maybe North Korea is crazy enough to do that… but we can’t count on it!”
“Fine. So who should we attack next, Rumsfeld?”
“See this map here?” Rumsfeld said, walking up to a large map on the wall. Suddenly he shouted “Rarr!” and started ripping away the map until finally nothing was left except for the U.S. He then stuffed the pieces of the map into a wastebasket and set them on fire.
“As your Secretary of State,” Colin Powell stated, “I’d like to point out that there might be some disadvantages to destroying all other countries.”
“You weak willed liberal!” Rumsfeld screamed, “You’re on the terrorist’s side!” He then tried to lunge at Powell who ran out of the room while Rice and Ari tried to hold Rumsfeld back. Rumsfeld eventually calmed down and returned to his seat.
“So, have any smaller plans for who we fight next?” Bush asked.
“I do,” Rice replied, “Ever heard of the small island country of Lintuvia?”
“No,” Bush answered, “but yesterday was the first time I heard of Brazil.”
“Well it’s a small, isolated island dictatorship in the Indian Ocean,” Rice continued, “and an easy target.”
“What have they done to us?”
“What have they done for us?” Rice responded, “Anyway, it’s great testing ground for our new military weapon: Black Project Insano!”
“Wow! That sounds cool!” Bush exclaimed, “What is it?”
“Well, I don’t really know…” Rice admitted, “I just know it’s our greatest project ever… but the exact details are beyond my security clearance.”
“What about mine? I’m the president.”
“Even beyond yours,” Rice told him.
“What about you, Rumsfeld?”
“I just don’t give a rat’s ass.”
“So who does know?” Bush asked.
“That’s also classified beyond our level,” Rice said.
“Wait,” Bush suddenly exclaimed, “I think I do know who knows.”
“Yes, you were fooled into knowing who knows,” Rice explained, “That’s part of Black Project Insano.”
“Am I supposed to know that I was fooled?”
“Yes, you have the clearance to know that the one you think you know who knows, doesn’t actually know. That was a bit of an oversight.”
“So who actually knows who knows what Black Project Insano is?”
“That is also too classified.”
“So who knows who knows who knows what Black Projext Insano is?”
“Dick Cheney.”
“Ah, so we have to find Dick.”
“This is idiotic,” Rumsfeld commented, “Can’t we just bomb countries and shoot people as normal?”
“Do not underestimate the power of Black Project Insano!” Rice shot back, “First we test it on Lintuvia, and then the world will be mine!” She started laughing evilly, but then noticed everyone staring at her. “Uh… I mean the world will be at peace and run by the U.S.”
“I’m going to look for Dick Cheney,” Bush said. He then went to the door of the conference room and shouted out, “Laura! Is Dick in one of the cupboards in the kitchen?”
“Honey, I can’t always be finding Cheney for you,” Laura answered.
“Did you forget where you undisclosed him again?” Rice asked angrily.
“Uh… no.”
“Remember, he was with us at the mall this afternoon,” Ari said.
“Oh, then we just have to wait for him to drive back,” Bush answered.
“But, dude, we drove him.”
“Oh man!” Bush exclaimed, “I stranded Dick at the mall again. He’s going to be all angry and having heart attacks.”
“We’ll send someone to get him,” Rice stated, “Now we need to send a Special Forces group to clear Lintuvia of any resistance.”
“I know who you should send,” Rumsfeld said.
“Who?” Bush asked.
“Buck.”
“Buck who?”
“Buck… the Marine!”
“Hello, Buck here – Buck the Marine that is… This is the president? President of what? …The United State of America! That’s the best thing to be president of. So what can I do for you, sir? …You want me to do a mission in Lintuvia? Are their foreigners there? …Then they’re dead! Now I just need you to give me some supplies… What do you mean I have to buy my own bullets? …You can’t afford bullets for me so you could have a tax cut for the rich! That doesn’t seem right… Well, yes, I guess rich people do deserve the money they earn, and that they do contribute a lot to society through investments and creating new jobs… and it was selfish of me to think of myself when they were being overtaxed… Yes, I’ll do that. I’ll write and apology to the local Millionaire’s club before I head out… Yes, that to, I’ll be more happy for what I have: my free room and board and my fifty dollars a month salary… What do you mean you want me to pay rent now! How much tax cuts do rich people need? …That makes me so mad I could kill people! …Yes, I guess that is good timing. I’ll get ready for the mission.”
“Funny I have to leave now,” Ari said at the press conferences, “just as I’ve finally figured out how to handle Helen Thomas.” He took out a laser pointer. “Get the red dot, Helen! Get it!”
Helen chased the laser point. “That red dot is mine!” She eventually followed it until it made her jump out the window.
“So, any questions?” Ari said as he put away the laser pointer.
“What this we hear about ‘Black Project Insano’?”
Ari fiercely grabbed the reporter. “WHO TOLD YOU?” Ari screamed at the top of his lungs. He then noticed everyone was looking at him with fright. He gently set the reporter back down and patted him on the shoulder. “I mean, what a ridiculous thing. I’ve never heard of any… whatever it was you just said. That’s just some crazy fiction you probably read about in the Weekly World News or the New York Times.”
“I have a question,” said the Fox News reporter. “Iran is reportedly harboring al Qaeda terrorists, so why haven’t we marched in there and hung those supposedly responsible by their own entrails? Is it because the Bush administration sympathizes with terrorists, or is it because you’re all a bunch of pussies?”
“Well… uh… the diplomatic way to do this…”
“And my follow up question,” she continued, “Is whether you think it’s apt to describe your departure from the Bush administration by using the analogy of rats fleeing a sinking ship… with one of those rats being grotesque and balding.”
“Now you’re just being mean,” Ari said angrily, “and… and… are you wearing a bikini?”
“Producer’s idea; these press conferences don’t get very good ratings.” She then listened to something coming in from her earpiece. “No I’m not going to jump up and down when I ask questions!”
“You know, at CNN we have higher journalistic integrity,” proudly said a CNN reporter.
“You’re only talking to me like that because you know I don’t have anywhere to conceal a gun!” the Fox News reporter shot back angrily. “We’re the number one news channel for a reason.” She then listened to a new message coming from her earpiece. “No I won’t take my top off!”
A Secret Service agent walked up to Ari. “It’s time.”
“Uh, I’m going to go hide out in a five mile deep underground shelter for no particular reason,” Ari announced, “So this press conference is over.”
“Maybe I’ll mud wrestle another reporter,” the Fox News reporter said as she listened to her earpiece, “But we have to renegotiate my contract first.”
TO BE CONTINUED…