Harvey Olson: Precision Guided Humor

Thu, 06 May 2004 00:24:24 GMT

IMPROVING KERRY'S SITE
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

When I saw John Kerry's "I wanna be your president" web site, my first thought was that there was some sort of hiccup in Google, because, judging by the pictures, I'd been misdirected to some sort of Herman Munster fan page. But upon closer inspection, I decided it probably was Kerry. After that, I noticed how dull and drab it was. Definitely needed some spicing up. Here are some suggestions.

Get a comic strip - in order to boost traffic, an entertaining daily feature would be helpful. Chris Muir does a great strip called "Day by Day". Perhaps he could do one called "Flip by Flop", wherein he could chronicle Kerry's zany adventures as he attempts to nuance his way out of the corners he's constantly talking his way into.

He could sell some John Kerry action figures. (via Larry of Extreme Psychosis)

Some pictures of the Mekong Delta so he doesn't get confused next time he goes to Louisiana.

A prominent link to Democratic Underground, since he gets most of his material there anyway.

Images to help people visualize what his mandatory national service program would look like.

A fun quiz might be nice.

A list of his favorite things like:

Favorite Batman villain: Two Face
Favorite Chewing Gum: Doublemint
Favorite Star Trek Episode: Mirror, Mirror
Favorite Circus Freak: Chang & Eng Bunker
Favorite Simpsons characters: Sherri & Terri
Favorite Sitcom: The Patty Duke Show
Favorite part of a football game: the coin toss.

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Wed, 28 Apr 2004 23:35:26 GMT

SCANDAL!
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

Documents discovered in Iraq recently have uncovered the shocking discovery that hundreds the UN's Oil for Food program is rife with corruption.

Who could've guessed?

Ok, everybody, but as more documents are discovered and translated, we can expect further revelations. I anticipate the following will soon come to light:

Secret genetic experiments, most of which went horribly wrong.

DNA tests prove Jacques Chirac is Uday's real father.

The "mobile weapons labs" were actually carrying Saddam's secret supply of inflatable sheep. (SFW)

Video tapes proving that Saddam and Osama were secret lovers (Ok, I got that one from the Weekly World News).

Michael Moore's love letters to a camel with a Britney-Spears-shaped birthmark.

Naked pictures of Helen Thomas. (SFW)

Proof that the Iraqi Information Minister, Baghdad Bob, was the ghost-writer for "Bowling for Columbine."

Yellow legal pad covered with the words "Kerry '04" in Saddam's handwriting.

Proof that Russia, China, France and Germany conspired to award the Miss Universe crown to Miss Iraq, despite the fact that the rules clearly indicated that she should be disqualified for excessive back hair.

Documents showing that, despite claims to the contary, Bill Clinton clearly knew what the meaning of the word "is" was.

A short e-mail from CNN: "Don't worry, we won't tell anyone."

Saddam's secret plan for acquittal at his upcoming trial:
1) practice golf swing
2) buy gloves 2 sizes too small
3) drive slow

Memo claiming that Saddam never had WMD's. There was merely a translation error. What he said was that he had "a dreadful social disease".

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Thu, 22 Apr 2004 01:20:14 GMT

THE 9/11 COMMISSION EXPLAINED
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

Although it may resemble a free-for-all of partisan finger-pointing, the 9/11 Commission is actually a well-organized group of partisan finger-pointers, who are tasked with investigating several specific areas of inquiry. I quote these topics directly from the 9/11 Commission web site, and include their preliminary recommendation for each area, which I obtained ~~by pulling it out of my ass~~ via secret sources:

Al Qaeda and the Organization of the 9-11 Attack:
Recommendation: Pass a law requiring that, when terrorists stop at a titty bar for their now-traditional last night of debauchery before carrying out their plans, they be served only cyanide margaritas. These may be, but are not required to be, 2-for-1 specials.

Intelligence Collection, Analysis, and Management (including oversight and resource allocation):
Recommendation: The FBI and CIA must work together as a team. No more messing with each other's letterheads to make them read "Fat Bloated Idiots" or "Childish Ignoramous Asshats".

International Counterterrorism Policy, including states that harbor or harbored terrorists, or offer or offered terrorists safe havens:
Recommendation: The old policy of "give them money & hope they leave us alone" has failed. Hopefully the new policy of "Nuke first, ask the glowing wasteland questions later" will have better results.

Terrorist Financing:
Recommendation: No more "zero down, no payments for 90 days" crap. From now on, all terrorists are strictly "cash and carry". With all carrying being done by stuffing their gooey remains in a 5-gallon bucket.

Border Security and Foreign Visitors:
Recommendation: America no longer has the luxury of allowing suspicious people to cross its borders with impunity. For maximum surveillance efficiency, all borders will be continuously manned by bored, gossipy, small-town housewives known as the Gladys Kravitz Brigade.

Law Enforcement and Intelligence Collection inside the United States:
Recommendation: So that no detail is missed, all law enforcement and intelligence information will be retained in a single centralized database. Cyberdyne Systems expects SkyNet and its army of friendly, helpful Hunter-Killer cyborgs to be on line before the end of the year.

Commercial Aviation and Transportation Security, including an Investigation into the Circumstances of the Four Hijackings:
Recommendation: Before any passenger is allowed to board a plane, he will be asked the foolproof terrorist-revealing question: "If you were a terrorist and I asked you whether you were a terrorist, would you say "yes"?". If he answers either "yes" or "no" then he's a terrorist and should be beaten to a bloody pulp on the spot, since a normal American would respond "What kind of stupid ass question is that? Get the f*** out of my way before I miss my flight!"

The Immediate Response to the Attacks at the National, State, and Local levels, including issues of Continuity of Government:
Recommendation: Nuke the moon... or at least the crescent moons on top of mosques occupied by gun-wielding terrorists. Lather. Radiate. Repeat.

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Tue, 13 Apr 2004 23:02:25 GMT

TAGLINES FOR AIR AMERICA
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

The premise is simple. If Rush Limbaugh can have success on talk radio as a right-wing commentator, then there MUST be a crying need for left-wing talk radio, too, right?

Not even close, but when you're a lefty, facts are just annoying things to be clubbed over the head with your emotions like so many baby seals. You just gotta wish hard enough, and you'll get what you want.

But in addition to happy wishes, if you're going to succeed in this business, you need a witty tagline to succinctly capture your essence. Rush has "Excellence in Broadcasting", Fox News has "Fair and Balanced". Air America has...

well, looking at their web site... nothing.

That's just sad. Here... let me help:

Finally, a network to the left of CNN

More spin than a helicopter rotor.

Where unfunny hack comedians got to die.

Of the ignorant, by the ignorant, for the ignorant.

The place to go when you're just too damn lazy to think for yourself.

Proving that just because you wear glasses doesn't mean you have intelligence.

As good a place to end our careers as we can hope for.

Proud member of the Axis of Drivel.

Almost as unbiased as Dan Rather.

No, this is NOT just the DNC's way of dodging McCain-Feingold, why do you ask?

Because "bullshitconspiracytheories.com" was already taken.

Not affiliated with John Kerry for President. At least on paper. Thank God for the Shredmaster 3000.

The one who will finally bring balance to The Force in accordance with prophecy.

Think of us as the audio version of the Democratic Underground.

Because seven networks and five cable news channels bashing Bush 24 hours a day JUST ISN'T ENOUGH!

NPR for dummies.

Check it out - we've even got a black guy. In your face, Limbaugh!

Coming soon to a tinfoil hat near you.

Like Rush without the drug addiction or the common sense.

Because Al Franken's mouth is too freakishly wide to appear on television.

More flaming assholes than the Preparation-H test labs.

Winner of the Jayson Blair "Credibilty in Media" Award.

Nearly as accurate as an Arthur Andersen audit.

Don't worry, we promise to go away as soon as the election is over.

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Mon, 05 Apr 2004 00:33:48 GMT

FUNNER FACTS ABOUT TERRORISTS
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

As noted at Alliance HQ, Frank J of IMAO published several "Fun Facts About Terrorists" on a recent T-shirt. Here are some of my contributions in the same vein, which will probably wind up on a thong or teddy:

Terrorists often shout "Allah Akbar" just before attacking, which is Arabic for "I'm a dumbass"

Terrorists will often be seen wearing curly-toed, green felt shoes with bells, much like Christmas elves, except more explosive.

Terrorists are usually young men of Middle-Eastern descent, but not always, so as a precaution you should randomly put your hand down women's pants to check for C4.

Large groups of children make prime targets for terrorists. If you see a large group of children, scatter them with a stink bomb for their own good.

The best way to prevent terrorist attacks is by passing strongly worded legislation. Please support the "Don't Blow People Up Act"

If you see a terrorist carrying a bomb, hit him with a rolled up newspaper and rub his nose in it while saying "No! Bad!"

Some people think that reasoned discourse is the best way to deal with terrorism. They are either French or stupid. Either way, ignore them.

On the off chance that the French are right, ship all terrorists to France for a good talking to.

When shipping terrorists, be sure to cut air holes in the container before covering the holes over with duct tape.

If the terrorist being shipped starts saying something like "Help! I can't breathe!", don't be alarmed, because that's actually Arabic for "I am happy to be going to France for a good talking to."

Not everyone who shouts "Die American Pigs!" is a terrorist. He might be a commie, a hippy, or Al Franken. Shoot him anyway, just to be safe.

If there is someone on the wing of the airplane trying to wreck the engine, he is probably a gremlin, and not a terrorist. Don't shoot him unless you are William Shatner.

The following people are not actually terrorists: Alec Baldwin, Barbra Streisand, Michael Moore, and Janeane Garofalo. If you see them, shoot them anyway, because they're damned annoying.

If you're out of bullets, ship them to France.

Use extra duct tape.

Terrorists can often be found in folk bands shaking a wooden hoop ringed with tiny cymbals.

Wait... that's a tambourinist. Don't shoot him because you might run out of bullets, which you'll need if you see Michael Moore.

Poverty is the root cause of terrorism. If you see a poor person, shoot him.

Jews are often victimized by terrorists. If you see a Jew, shoot anyone standing next to him.

Buy a lot of stock in companies that make bullets.

Don't sell the stock, or you'll wind up in jail and Martha Stewart will make you her bitch.

John Kerry is not a terrorist. Don't shoot him, lest the Democrats replace him with a viable Presidential candidate.

Saddam Hussein is a terrorist, but he's been captured, so don't shoot him.

But if you do shoot at him and "accidentally" miss and hit his French lawyer... Hey, I didn't see ANYTHING.

Yasser Arafat isn't a terrorist. He's a... wait... yes he is. Have at him.

Not all terrorists are bad. Some of them are good.

For target practice.

Terrorists would prefer that John Kerry be elected President. If you see someone voting for John Kerry... well, they're probably American citizens and you're probably low on bullets, so just ship them to France. But go easy on the duct tape.

Unless it's Alec Baldwin

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Wed, 31 Mar 2004 00:10:29 GMT

BENEFITS OF APPEASEMENT
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

When I first heard that our former allies, the Spanish, had chosen to bend over and take the Vaseline-free loving of Muslim terrorists, I was very surprised. But after thinking it over, I decided that there might be some benefits for us if we followed them down Appeasement Street. If we give up, roll over and pretend it's September 10th again, then...

Women will no longer have to worry whether their outfits clash with the terror threat level color code of the day, since everything goes with red.

Environmentalists will be happier, since we'll no longer be bombing precious endangered species of sand.

Employees at Jiffy Lube will no longer have to waste time asking you whether you want 10W-30 or blood for oil.

Since filthy hippies won't have to spend their days at protest marches, normal Americans will once again be free to go outside without nose plugs.

I'll finally be able to get my nail clippers through airport security.

And I won't have to take off my pretty pink high-heeled shoes.

What?

The millions of innocent Muslims currently being tortured in Bushiter's concentration camps will finally be freed.

Gucci will be able to make a fortune selling designer bomb belts.

John Kerry can stop worrying about terrorism and focus on winning the war in Vietnam.

Our troops will be safe from attacks, as long as they don't become civilians and get jobs in tall office buildings.

Dan Rather will get more of the attention he craves since he'll no longer have to share the media spotlight with nattering warbloggers.

Once the kooks have been properly appeased they may, as Frank J muses, start using less explosive techniques on us. Like shaving naughty words on the backs of our heads.

We can be friends with the French again. At least for the five seconds it will take them to find another reason to hate us, like the fact that we don't speak their stupid, gibbery, monkey-language.

Friends with the French?... On second thought, let's just kill the terrorists and be done with it..

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Thu, 25 Mar 2004 00:27:33 GMT

KERRYS FIRST 100 DAYS
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

John Kerry has a plan for America. In his first 100 days, John Kerry vows that he will:

Preserve endangered species by creating a Wildlife Refuge for interns in Africa.

Reduce America's dependence on foreign oil by banning Bikini Oil Wresting contests.

Require mandatory skiing lessons for all Secret Service sons of bitches.

Take Iraq reconstruction contracts away from Halliburton and give them to more qualified companies like Heinz.

Fight to ensure that all Americans can afford the drugs they need, and stop the out of control upward spiral of crack prices.

Prevent America from taking unilateral military action with it's 50 coalition partners, unless one of them is France.

Protect children from the epidemic of gun violence that is sweeping our nation by passing the "Only Kill Children With Knives Act".

Win the war against illiteracy by requiring subtitles on all SpongeBob SquarePants episodes.

Pick up those medals he threw over the fence.

Stop the spread of Mad Cow Disease by renaming it "Disgruntled Bovine Affliction".

Fight the AIDS epidemic by banning viruses.

Show his support for the Americans With Disabilities Act by hiring blind, quadriplegic Secret Service Agents.

And teaching those sons of bitches how to ski.

Fund more after school programs for children so they can develop non-academic interests and skills, such as music, art, and pimpin' they ho's.

Increase the safety of all Americans by requiring "CAUTION: EXPLOSIVE" warning labels on all terrorists.

Make college affordable to all who wish to attend by burning down the "too expensive" ones.

Stop the national crime epidemic by passing the "Make Crime Illegal Act".

Increase workplace safety by requiring all workers to wear cushy, inflatable "sumo suits"

Expand economic opportunities for women by making it legal to hire them for "non-girly" jobs.

Champion initiatives that ensure children are not forced to learn in overcrowded classrooms by shooting every third child.

Keep "under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance, but add the words "If that's ok with France" at the end.

Yes, with initiatives like these, John Kerry will, if elected, go down in the history books as the best President the United States of Al Qaeda ever had.

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Wed, 17 Mar 2004 12:52:58 GMT

FRANCES SECRET REASONS
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

Why wouldn't the French help out in Iraq? Lots of reasons:

* The men of France had a list of vital chores to complete

* As did the women

* It's not easy finding a Girl Scout troop to surrender to during the busy cookie-selling season.

* They were having trouble finding just the right jaunty angle to wear their berets.

* Iraq didn't have enough stinky cheese to make the trip worth their while, but they did generously offer to invade Wisconsin.

* They were afraid of getting their asses handed to them by the Iraqi boys soccer team.

* Their tanks only run in reverse, so they couldn't help with the going in part. But if we need help with the pulling out part...

* Desert camo colors clash with those tacky Where's Waldo shirts they all wear, and a fashion faux pas of that magnitude is considered a war crime.

* Haven't yet perfected the bullet-proof beret.

* The nation's ammo supply was already earmarked for cheese hunting season

* They couldn't find an Iraqi phrase for "I am a surrender monkey"

* Too busy laundering the oil-for-food money

* Couldn't get permission from their mommies.

* Troop movement logistics were problematic. Seems the collective stench from 200 French troops inevitably melts aircraft hulls.

* Claimed there was no way to keep their frog supply fed in the "no fly zones"

* Due to a nation-wide pig shortage, the French Army was too busy rooting for truffles.

* Couldn't invade until they figured out which wine goes with falafel.

* The French constitution forbids the slaughtering of native populations outside the African continent.

* Not enough benzene in Iraqi bottled water.

* They're still bitter about Al Franken beating Jerry Lewis in the last round of Iraqi Idol.

Oh, and they're a bunch of spineless, yellow-bellied cowards.

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Thu, 11 Mar 2004 01:09:23 GMT

ALL ABOUT THE OIL
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

Jose, a hippie Venzuelan in France seems to think that Americans are a bunch of war-grabbing oil-mongers... or something. He recently said to Jeff of BigStick.US:

"The US only went into Iraq because of the oil. They're going to take all of the oil, and sell it to fund their global imperialism."

Hmmm… let's take a peek at Venezuela's history to see if Jose has any cause to be talkin' trash:

FUN FACTS ABOUT VENEZUELA (with apologies to Frank J.):

Venezuela is a small, mountainous country in South America that people are constantly leaving because it smells like monkey poop.

Venezuela was originally colonized by bloodthirsty Spaniards. In Spain at the time, 16th century hippies were forever chanting crap like "Isabella=Genghis Khan" and "No Blood for Incan gold!" Like their modern counterparts they, too were mocked by right-wing bloggers, who at that time used a primitive form of the internet made out of abacuses tied together with very long strips of rawhide.

The Venezuelan economy primarily produces bananas, coffee, sugarcane, and ruthless dictators. Other crops include maize, cocoa, tobacco, and bloody coups.

Venezuela was a founding member of OPEC and was instrumental in the insane upward spiral of crude oil prices in the 1970's. However, they were eventually kicked out refusing to adopt the turban as their "national funny hat".

Like Iraq, Venezuela was the beneficiary of an oil-for-food program. No, seriously. These dickweeds can't even feed themselves.

With that in mind it becomes fairly obvious what's going on here. All Americans look the same to foreign nationals, and Jose has mistaken Jeff for George W. Bush. He hopes to provoke Jeff (W.) into such a rage that he'll invade Venezuela and turn that smelly patch of dirt into a model democracy, freed at last of dictators, smelly monkeys & food shortages.

Well, Jose, we'll pass your request along to the proper authorities, but you'll have to go to the end of the line. Iran & North Korea were here first.

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Thu, 04 Mar 2004 00:44:52 GMT

RALPH NADER CAMPAIGN SLOGANS
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

In an effort to help Ralph Nader spoil yet another Democrat's chance at the White House, I'm offering this top 10 list of Ralph Nader campaign slogans.

10) I kept Gore out of the White House. You owe me.

9) Because I'm not crack-monkey crazy like Kucinich

8) Freedom. Progress. Prosperity. BAH!

7) NADER = Notorious American Deranged Environmentalist Radical

6) I will destroy all corporations! MUAHAHAHAHA!... For information on how your corporation can donate to my campaign, visit, www.nader2004.org

5) NADER = Nearing Another December of Endless Recounts

4) I'll stop the terrorists before they corporate.

3) Acting Frencher than John Kerry looks.

2) I destroyed the Corvair, I can destroy the SUV!

1) ATTENTION ALL DEMOCRATS: Give me $200,000 in small, unmarked bills or I'll stay on the ballot.

Go get 'em, Ralphie. Mheh.

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Mon, 23 Feb 2004 03:14:37 GMT

OTHER USES FOR TERRORISTS
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

Reduce, reuse, recycle, I always say. So once you catch one of these nasty little terrorist buggers, don't let him rot in a jail cell, put him to good use:

Combination parachute tester and laser guided missile target.

Mobile radioactive waste disposal unit

McDonald's quality control tester. Pour a cup of coffee on his crotch to see if it's too hot to serve to customers.

Shove a magnet up his ass & use him for a metal detector.

Attack dog training dummy. No more wear and tear on delicate and expensive foam pads.

High voltage power line tester. *ZORCH!* Yup, that one was live.

Fear Factor stunt viability checker. Trying to find sewing needles in a tub full of rattle snakes – Good idea? Bad idea? Only one way to find out…

Testicle vise calibrator – and remember, this is for posterity, so please… be honest. How do you feel?

Michael Bolton's sound board technician... No... too cruel.

How many licks DOES it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop? The world will soon know. Oops! That's not Tootsie Roll in the center...

Sammy Sosa super-corked batting practice.

New proctologists have to start learning somewhere.

Nipple piercer to the stars. First up, Michael Moore.

Porno movie set mop boy. Damn! Can't find the mop. Well, just squeegee up what you can with your hands and tongue-wipe the rest. Oh, and Mr. Jeremy needs fluffing.

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Wed, 18 Feb 2004 00:17:07 GMT

NOT MY VIRGINS
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

"-ake that, you filthy infidel American pig dogs!", cried Abdul Al'splosion, finishing the sentence he had begun before setting off his Kufr-Killr Bombr Belt (TM).

He paused, examining the barren, blackened, sulphurous landscape. "Where the hell am I?" he asked himself, as he tucked the dangly remains of his intestines into his now-combustion-stained Sans-A-Belt slacks.

"Funny you should ask it that way," said a voice. As Abdul turned to look, a short, red, goatee-faced man with horns atop his head the color of hillbilly teeth pulled up in a small motorized vehicle. The words "EvilMobile" were painted on both sides in neatly flowing Coca-Cola-esque script. It looked suspiciously like a golf cart, with the exception of a heavily modified engine.

"Hey," asked Abdul, "that thing got a Hemi?"

"By technical specifications, yes. But it's actually fueled by the agony of tormented souls instead of gasoline." The strange man exited his cart, and cloven-hoofedly trotted up to the confused ex-Islamofascist. His leering face leaned in close to Abdul's, invading his personal space.

"Hi," he said, his breath redolent of Limburger ravioli. "I'm Satan."

Abdul gazed at the legendary hell spawn, who, at 3'6", towered menacingly over nothing.

"Somehow I always thought you'd be..."

Satan's face blazed with an insane rage rarely seen outside of a Howard Dean campaign speech.

"YES! TALLER! I KNOW!" he shrieked. Calming slightly, he continued, "Do you think this is easy for me? Ya know, when I used to be an Angel of Light, I was SEVEN FREAKIN' FEET TALL! I was the star of Heaven's basketball team! I could out-dunk that punk-ass Daddy's-boy Jesus six ways to Sunday! But after The Fall, well... let's just say that gravity was a bitch and it was a hard landing."
"But," Satan continued, "at least I'm not the one who mistook dynamite for a cummerbund." His smug visage beamed with the all bitter joy of Maureen Dowd typing the word "AWOL".

"But... but... I don't understand!" Abdul protested, nervously toying with his dangling left eyeball, "This is supposed to be Paradise! There were supposed to be 72 nubile virgins eager to satisfy my every whim!"

"HA! HA! HA!" Satan's laughter boomed pipsqueakily, "I can't BELIEVE how gullible you are! Did you actually think that the reward for the bloody murder of innocents was going to be a bevy of pre-stardom Britneys?"

"But the Koran said..."

"That part of the Koran was written by the same people who wrote those "Add 3 to 5 inches guaranteed" spam e-mails. I suppose you responded to THOSE, too?"

"I... YOU SHUT UP! Do not mock my AAA Duracell of love!" screamed Abdul defiantly, cowering like a Frenchman and wetting himself with fear and embarrassment.

"Heh. Don't worry about it Splodey. Can I call you Splodey? Look, Splodey, I get a lot of you teeny-weenied sand-monkeys down here. For some reason, you all think that a big boom will make up for your tiny toothpick. I can't imagine how you figure you can satisfy 72 love-hungry sex-wenches when you vaporize even the itty-bitty hump-stump Allah saw fit
to grace you with in the first place. But that's not my concern." Satan rubbed his scabby, taloned hands together with the eagerness of Michael Moore contemplating a hog trough full of Twinkies. "My concern is... torture."

Abdul gulped and darkened his slacks to the cuffs. "Torture?" he squeaked?

"Yes, torture!" Satan squeaked back in a mocking, high-pitched, girly voice, which was indistinguishable from his normal one.

"What... what are you going to do to me?" asked Abdul miserably, as "French surrender-biscuits" slid down the back of his pants and piled up by his heels.

"Well," said the diminutive Prince of Darkness, "ya got your choice. Either an eternity of pineapple enemas..."

"EEP!" said Abdul, his chute clenching in anticipated torture and shutting off the biscuit flow.

"OR..."

"or?"

"Or... you can return to Earth and live out the remainder of your natural life." finished Satan, an odd little used-car-salesman's smirk gracing his lips.

"There must be some sort of catch," said Abdul as he grabbed his left eye so that he could point it at the vertically-challenged imp to look at him suspiciously. "You're going to send me back all torn apart like I am now, aren't you?"

Satan put on his best "Clinton at a deposition" face and acted hurt. "How could you even suggest such a thing?" he pouted, biting at his lower lip. "I've been nothing but honest with you since you got here." Crocodile-shaped tears trickled down his face.

"BULLSHIT! You're the FATHER of lies!"

Satan shrugged, "The results of that paternity suit were inconclusive, at best."

Manually eyeballing Satan warily, Abdul asked, "So... I really get to go back? No weird little Twilight Zone twist?"

The Underworld Overlord's undersized face relaxed into a broader, insurance-salesman-style grin. "Well, ok. I have to admit that there is one small catch."

"HA!" shouted Abdul with the overconfidence of Al Gore counting the popular vote, "I knew it! What evil trick do you have in store for me?"

Satan's cheeks puffed out briefly and collapsed back as he stifled a guffaw of triumphant laughter - hook, line... - "you'll go back as a bunny rabbit".

"Hmmm..." mused Abdul, pointing his dangly left orb upward to contemplate the possibilities, "sunshine, green grass, lots of mating... Ok. Bunny rabbit it is."

"Sinker." muttered Satan, smiling inwardly.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," said the unimposingly-proportioned antithesis of goodness, "Just wishing you all the best." He waved cheerily, and thusly dispensed Abdul to his new fate.

"MUAHAHAHAHAHA!" cackled the puny Beast of Revelations, as he jumped into the EvilMoblie and turned the key.

[click]

"AWWWWW CRAP! I left the headlights on!"

...Meanwhile, on the set of Steve Irwin's Crocodile Hunter show...

"...And what do crocs love to eat the best?" hollered an ebullient Irwin to the bus-load of third-graders who were taking the behind-the-scenes tour.

"Squirming fuzzy bunnies!" returned the bloodthirsty youthful chorus.

"They sure do! Now my lovely wife, Terri, will 'and me one of those tasty morsels... Thanks, luv... Crikey! This one's a frisky little bugger! Look at 'im wiggle! It's almost like 'e knows what's comin'! 'E's makin' a lot of noise for a rabbit! Almost sounds like 'e's saying "pineapple" over 'n over... Well, enough 'rigglin' & squigglin' - into the pond with ya, snack chip!"

After an exaggerated wind-up, Irwin arced the furry dumpling into the containment area.

"Crikey!" shouted Irwin admiringly, "that 'ungry croc nabbed 'em on the first bounce! What a catch!"

"Now kiddies," Irwin explained, "although this may seem 'arsh and cruel, it's just nature's way of keepin' down the population on those pesky, floppy-eared buggers. Blokes like me what keeps crocs fed for a livin' even got a little sayin' to help us keep our perspective:"

SIC SEMPER T' RABBITS!

Wed, 11 Feb 2004 00:05:03 GMT

AL QAEDA RECRUITING
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

Somewhere in the dusty, rock-strewn desert of Afghanistan, Ahmed sits in a ragged tent, processing new Al Qaeda recruits…

Ahmed: Next!

Mohammed: I am Mohammed.

Ahmed: Geez, ANOTHER one? This is a beautiful land full of a proud and wise people. Why the HELL can't we name our children something besides freakin' MOHAMMED? What's wrong with Frank or Matt or Josh? I swear by Allah that if I have to write "Mohammed" on one more form I'll shove a scimitar up my own ass just to end the pain!… But enough of my troubles. What brings you here, dear friend?

Mohammed: I saw your ad for new Al Qaeda recruits laying in the camel-dung outside my hovel, and I am eager to lend my support for this noble cause. Such stirring words you have written!: "Wanted: Brave and intrepid soldiers to wage holy war on infidel American Satan-dogs. Help drive this cursed blemish from our sacred lands. Rewards are great, risks are small, and even if you die… Hey! 72 virgins! Let's hear a big WHOO-HOO for Allah!"

Ahmed: Yes, well... you have to understand... that was written some time ago, and certain… circumstances… have changed.

Mohammed: You mean we are no longer battling the blight of the kufr oppressors?

Ahmed: Oh, no, we are still battling. It's just that, well… ever since the victories… uh, TEMPORARY victories of the Americans in Iraq, we've had to make certain… er… cutbacks.

Mohammed: Cutbacks? I don't understand.

Ahmed: Well, with Saddam out of the picture, we've lost a major source of funding for training and equipment. Even the Saudi princes are afraid to support us for fear of angering the fearsome cowboy desecrators of all that is sacred.

Mohammed: Cowards! After we drive the Western Crusaders from our beloved sand, we shall slaughter the collaborators like pigs!

Ahmed: It is well to hear you speak so bravely! We are in need of such fearless men as yourself. On this, your first day of training, we will be teaching you how to fly a plane.

Mohammed: Yes! I will be proud to martyr myself by toppling another of Satan's towers with one of their own airplanes! ULULULULULU!

Ahmed: That's the spirit. Now, we used to have a 747 in Iraq to use for training. Sadly, it is now out of our hands. Uh… TEMPORARILY! Meanwhile, you will be using, uh… alterative training methods. Here… take this.

Mohammed: A piece of paper?

Ahmed: Yes. Now… fold it like this… and this… and back… and this part goes over here… no, the other way… yes… and one more… THERE!

Mohammed: A paper airplane?

Ahmed: We like to refer to it as a "budget-friendly training device". Now… imagine that you're piloting this…

Mohammed: But I don't know how to fly a plane!

Ahmed: Later, shahid, after we've untemporaried the 747… which will happen much sooner if you'll just SHUT THE F*** UP AND DO AS YOU'RE TOLD BEFORE I BITCH-SLAP YOU WITH THIS KORAN!

Mohammed: A thousand pardons! I defer to the painful-looking leather-bound wisdom of Allah!

Ahmed: Better. Now... imagine that you're piloting this, and use it to destroy this scale model of the Empire Satan Building.

Mohammed: It's just a pyramid made out of empty plastic cups.

Ahmed: [bitch!][slap!] ARE YOU QUESTIONING ALLAH'S WILL?

Mohammed: OW! No, no! I will fly as Allah directs!

Ahmed: And make little airplane sounds while you do it… BBBBBBPPPPPRRRRBBBB!

Mohammed: Air…airplane sounds?

Ahmed: [raising the already spit- and blood-stained holy book] Koran 3:16 says MAKE THE DAMN SOUNDS!

Mohammed: Yes! Yes!… uh… bpppprpprrprpbbbp…

Ahmed: LOUDER! This is a 4 engine Boeing, not a damn Lawnboy! Put your lip into it, man!

Mohammed: BBBBBBPPPPPRRRRBBBB!

Ahmed: Better, better… now, DESTROY THE SYMBOLIC PENIS OF SATAN!

Mohammed: BBBBBBPPPPPRRRRBBBB! […tap…][sound of empty plastic cups
hitting the desert sand]

Ahmed [raising Koran menacingly]: mmmm?

Mohammed: uh… CRASH! BOOM! AIEEEEE!

Ahmed: Excellent! Excellent! We'll make a martyr out of you yet.

Mohammed: Yes! I can almost feel the 72 virgins promised by Allah caressing my tiny withered loins already!

Ahmed: Uh… Mohammed…

Mohammed: Yes? ([fantasizing] mmmm… that's right my sweet nymphs… fondle my
mighty sewing needle… uh, SWORD!)

Ahmed: About those 72 virgins… it seems the Americans have been slaughtering us like dogs lately, and…

Mohammed [coming cloudily back to reality]: Hmmm… What?

Ahmed: Uh… I mean... many, MANY brave martyrs have earned their promised reward in the last few months, and… well… we're a little short on virgins right now…

Mohammed: I won't get 72?

Ahmed: No, no… it's not that. You'll still get 72, except they're not quite virgins…

Mohammed: Well, perhaps it IS better that they have a LITTLE experience in the ways of man-pleasure. 72 young, nubile…

Ahmed: Uh… neither, actually.

Mohammed: Slim? Flexible?

Ahmed: Not so much…

Mohammed: Just what will I be getting.

Ahmed: 72 French whores.

Mohammed: I've never been to France. What are the women like there?

Ahmed: Hairy, snaggle-toothed, and they smell like ass.

Mohammed: Ah! Then it will be just like making love with my sweet Fatima

Ahmed: Your wife?

Mohammed: My camel.

Ahmed: Ah, yes. Nothing beats "bumping the hump".

Mohammed: That's good enough for me. I'm in.

Ahmed: Praise Allah!… Ali! We have another recruit! Take Mohammed out back for small arms training.

Ali: Very good. [as they walk away] Now, take this stick, point it at that rock over there, and shout BANG!

Ahmed: NEXT!

Mohammed: I am Mohammed, and…

Ahmed: awwwww CRAP!...

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Thu, 05 Feb 2004 00:42:18 GMT

ODE TO A TROLL
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

I see you jumping on the stage
To crap upon our clean web page
Bitter twit, you whine and snivel
Plaguing us with thoughtless drivel
Stupidly you spew and sputter
Vapidly you blurt and mutter
Garbage vomits from your keys
Annoying us like bites from fleas
Saying nothing good or true
Asshat lies and trash you spew
Grammar poor, ideas dull
Reflect your empty, worthless skull
"I'll hurt your feelings with my screed!"
"Fear my wrath! I'll make you bleed!
"I am kafka, hear me roar!"
Frankly dear, you're such a bore
Baboon flinging monkey poo
Here's what the Alliance'll do to you
Give you love, give you attention,
By mocking you, and did I mention
That you are just a joke to us
A moron who rides life's short bus
Leave us now, you mindless fool
You floating turd in our swimming pool
You warthog-faced retarded putz
You dripping sore upon our nuts
You feckless, brainless, drooling mass
You feeble, filthy, ignorant ass
Sic Semper Tyrannis, and fare thee well
Now f*** off, troll, and burn in hell.

Thu, 29 Jan 2004 01:25:53 GMT

FRENCH ASSISTANCE
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)

In a US Army camp on the outskirts of Baghdad, Private John "Lucky" Lukowski, frustrated by his inability to complete his assigned duties, seeks the assistance of his Sergeant, William "Rocky" Stone…

Pvt: Look, Sarge, I understand the importance of Operation Useful Frenchman, but I really don't know if this is going to work.

Sgt: Lucky, we've got our orders. The President decided that, in the interests of getting France to shut the f*** up, we'd give them something to do in Iraq that didn't pose a security risk. The President told the Generals, the Generals told the Lieutenants, the Lieutenants told the Sergeants, and then I told you: "Keep the damn Frogs busy." The shit has followed standard operating procedure and rolled downhill, right into your lap. I'm counting on you to make it happen.

Pvt: It's not that I'm not touched by your faith in me, Rocky, but it just doesn't seem to be working out.

Sgt: Son, I really hate to hear an American fighting man tell me that a job can't be done. Don't tell me you've just been sitting on your ass the last couple weeks? You submitted a list of tasks you thought Pierre & Co. could accomplish, I approved it, and you've had complete freedom to make it happen. Maybe you better tell me what's been happening. Let's start with this first item... Building a baseball diamond?

Pvt: Yeah. I thought maybe if the Iraqi kids learned about fun American customs like baseball, they might grow to love us.

Sgt: I really liked that idea. Putting the French to work spreading American culture. The sweet, delicious irony. What happened?

Pvt: Well, since the Whiteflaggers don't know anything about baseball, I thought I should have 'em practice with with the chalk line marker cart to make sure they could walk 90 feet in a straight line.

Sgt: Good thinking. Where'd they practice?

Pvt: Boom-Boom Alley.

Sgt: WHAT? You had them walking through an un-cleared minefield?

Pvt: You TOLD me to!

Sgt: [whacking Lucky upside the head] Damn it, Lucky! I told you "Zoom-Zoom Alley", the air-to-ground live-fire range! No wonder the Air Force has been riding my ass about not having enough targets!

Pvt: Sorry 'bout that. But on the bright side, the minefield is pretty much cleared now, and the local vultures have never looked so fat and sleek.

Sgt: I'm sure the Audubon Society will be thrilled… How 'bout this next one... War criminal search & rescue?

Pvt: My theory is that dictators and their hump-backed henchman aren't the most creative folk in the world, so we're looking for the last 13 in the same sorts of places that we found the others.

Sgt: Interesting theory. Which means... what, exactly, in practice?

Pvt: Well, I was going to have the Soap-Dodgers peek in every septic tank in Baghdad…

Sgt: What happened?

Pvt: First time out, we popped the cover on a poop pit, and ol' Jean-Luc-Pinhead shouted "cuisine à la maison!" and dove in head first. Drowned pretty quick, but he seemed to die happy.

Sgt: And you just lost the one?

Pvt: More like one hundred. It was almost spooky how they just jumped right in, one after another. It was like watching a pack of hippies stampede over a cliff into the sea.

Sgt: You mean lemmings.

Pvt: Yeah, lemmings. Sorry. Just a bit of personal fantasy there.

Sgt: Oh well, as long as there's a few less Snail-Snappers in the world… So how about this other one… Assist local farmers with animal husbandry chores?

Pvt: I really thought we had a winner with that one. Seems the local farmers are experimenting with artificial insemination techniques in their goat herds. I figured the Stinky Pierres would make great barnyard animal masturbators.

Sgt: Having known a few French women, I have to agree that I can't think of anyone more qualified to bring a smelly, hairy animal to orgasm than a French man. How'd that work out, Lucky?

Pvt: They took to it like fish to water. I haven't heard happy-animal noises like that since Howard Dean's Iowa speech, but…

Sgt: But? But what? I thought you said they were good at it?

Pvt: Yeah, well… they didn't just use their hands…

Sgt: Not just their…Oh... I see… Well, I suppose as long as they spit…

Pvt: Swallowed.

Sgt: Hmmm... So I guess the Iraqi farmers are pretty pissed about the whole thing?

Pvt: Actually, not so much. A lot of the farmers had video cameras, and what with internet connections becoming more and more common around here, I'm thinking Paris Hilton isn't going to be the #1 Google hit for "skanky sex" much longer.

Sgt: You're probably right. Well, Lucky, I'm about sick of these pants-wetting rifle-droppers. Maybe you should take the rest of 'em out on Septic Patrol. Tell 'em we found an underground restaurant that makes it just like momma.

Pvt: With pleasure, Rocky.

Sgt: And Lucky?

Pvt: Yeah, Sarge?

Sgt: SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Wed, 21 Jan 2004 01:15:20 GMT

WAR ON TERROR: THE PERKS

There are a lot of good things that have come from prosecuting the War on Terror, the biggest of which is, well, lots of dead terrorists. But there are several side benefits as well. Here's my Top 10:

10) Sales of "War on Terror: To Do List" T-shirts skyrocket, spurring a rapid economic recovery.

9) More oil for blood. Terrorist blood, that is.

8) Lavish and exotic ashtrays for American soldiers.

7) Filthy hippies skip college classes to attend protests, allowing serious students to learn in an atmosphere free from eye-wateringly noxious odors and choruses of "is this going to be on the test?"

6) The French finally got around to producing their own color-coded terror threat level warnings.

5) GrouchyMedia videos

4) That defeated look on Dan Rather's face when the statue fell.

3) Hey, cool! The latest copy of Surrender Monkeys Monthly just hit the stands!

2) How about a little fire, Scarecrow?

and the #1 side benefit to the War on Terror:

1) American kids improve their geography skills; learn that "between the Tigris and Euphrates" is not a euphemism for "vagina".

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Tue, 13 Jan 2004 23:44:06 GMT

BETTER ANTI WAR SLOGANS

Sure, right-wingers may be stupid, but at least we're not trite and uncreative. The Pro-Saddam lefties trot out the same tired old slogans for every protest:

Bush = Hitler
No blood for oil!
War is always a mistake
Global war industry = weapons of mass destruction

BOR-ing!

For the sake of this week's Alliance Precision Guided Humor assignment, let's see if we can't make some improvements (NOTE: lest you accuse me of making things up, damn near all of these are based on actual protest slogans):

Bush lied! People died! We're glad Saddam is on our side!

Give appease a chance.

Where are the WMD's? Hey! No fair looking in the palaces!

America - stop killing innocent Iraqis! That's Saddam's job!

All blood is red! So are crayons. We like crayons. Crayons for peace. Maybe some nice, juicy
tomatoes, too. Ooooh! And strawberry Jell-o!

They're selling war; we're not buying. Boycott Evian!

Peace; not shattered lives. Except in America

Brains not bombs. Since we have neither, we demand peace!

UN Yes! Wild West No! Tofu Definitely!

No war in our name. Just oppressed Iraqis

Violence breeds violence. Let's breed peace. Sheep are peaceful. Let's be more like sheep.

Let's bomb Texas; they have oil too. Then we'll bomb Arizona because it has a desert. And
Indiana because it starts with the letter I. And bomb my house because my dad's a jerk. Can you
believe he charges me rent to live in the basement?

Iraq is not the enemy. The enemy lies within. Wait... does that mean I'm the enemy? I'm
confused...

No blood for oil! No brains for peace!

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Wed, 07 Jan 2004 00:17:00 GMT

WEASEL PENANCE

Sure, France, Germany & Russia are trying to make nice with us by forgiving some Iraqi debt, but they REALLY hurt our feelings with all that "opposing the war" crap. Any member of the Axis of Weasels who wants forgiveness has a few acts of contrition to perform.

First, some country-specific items:

France: Admit that Jerry Lewis isn't funny. We'd like that in writing, please.

Russia: Get a real alphabet.

Germany: Learn to drink your beer cold.

***************

Second, some stuff that goes for every last anti-war Weaselite out there:

Write 1000 times "I will not coddle terrorists." The UN can check it for spelling errors. I figure they can manage that much without screwing up.

Never miss a good opportunity to shut the f*** up.

At every press conference, wear a T-shirt that says: "I'm a two-faced crap weasel with bony girl arms and I smell like an elephant's butt!"

Drop & give me 20

We're revoking citizenship for the entire gang of Hollywood asshats. Please give them a nice home. Running water and toilet facilities are, of course, strictly optional at your discretion.

Bake us a nice batch of chocolate chip cookies. From scratch. Dough from a tube doesn't count

Flowers would be nice. Oh, and candy. Maybe a pair of diamond earrings, too.

Scrub our toilets. Yes, with your tongues.

Foot massages, all around.

Making English your country's official language would be a good touch.

We get to punch you in the arm. Ready? Go! Whoops! Two for flinching! [WHACK! WHACK!]

Your national hat is now the Stetson.

Your new National Anthem is "Courtesy of the Red, White & Blue"

There! Now doesn't it feel nice to have a clear conscience? Apology accepted.

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Tue, 30 Dec 2003 23:45:30 GMT

SADDAM'S CONFESSION

Saddam has intelligence. Not in the sense of being smart enough not to thumb his nose at the US, but rather he knows where certain things are. The Alliance is asking for methods of information extraction, so I will oblige.

There's always the classics, such as drugs, sleep deprivation, starvation, sensory overload and the like, but he may prove resistant to such persuasion. There are sterner options available:

Play "this little piggy" with a hammer. It may not have worked in "Payback", but then again, Saddam is no Mel Gibson.

Sea urchin enema

Strap a thermometer to his willy & have him check the temp on the McDonalds fry oil

Oops! Looks like Saddam got his tie caught in the industrial paper shredder. Sure hope nobody accidentally disabled the "reverse" button.

Ipecac coladas

Steak-umm underwear and a hungry Rottweiler

Scorpion bath

Or maybe we should just get him a new job:

No-hands barnyard masturbator

Cameraman for the new movie, "Lesbo Love Fest", starring Janet Reno and Helen Thomas

San Francisco bathhouse glory-hole sanitizer. Don't forget the buttless red leather chaps uniform
for this one.

Maybe checking Sigfried & Roy's tigers for colon polyps?

Septic tank inspector. Remember to pump the tank before sending him in. Or not.

Crash test dummy

I hear the Mayo Clinic has an opening for a colostomy-bag-emptier

Or maybe we can just send him on vacation:

To a furvert convention in a panda constume

To South Central LA. After midnight. With a pocket full of $100's. Wearing a "F*** Jesse
Jackson" T-shirt

On second thought, screw it. Brass knuckles & razor blades. Either he spills his guts, or we do.

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Tue, 23 Dec 2003 00:42:57 GMT

SADDAM CAPTURED

It made headlines the world over when that sewer rat was finally captured. Most of the stories also included a report of the conversation between Saddam and the soldiers:

"He said: 'I'm Saddam Hussein, I'm the president of Iraq and I'm willing to negotiate'," Major Brian Reed, operations officer for the first brigade of the Fourth Infantry Division, told reporters at the site where Saddam was found on Saturday hiding in a hole at a hut. "The response from soldiers was: 'President Bush sends his regards'."

Although the report was essentially accurate, it didn't cover the WHOLE story. Per this week's Alliance assignment, here's the full transcript:

Soldier: All right, Hussein, you can come out now.

Saddam [crawling out of septic tank] About time you guys got here! This place smells like a French whorehouse! Maybe YOU guys are used to that kind of... uh... wait, you're not the French, are you?

Soldier: Nope. Nothing but baseball, hot dogs, apple pie & Chevrolet in this group.

Saddam: Crap! I mean... uh... Thank Allah you've arrived! Saddam Hussein has been holding me hostage here for days. He just left a few minutes ago. If you hurry, you can still catch him!

Soldier: Um, Mr. Hussein... [pointing to American flag shoulder patch] NOT stupid?

Saddam: Crap. Look here, Yankee, I'm still President of Iraq. I have great wealth and power. How's about you just kinda look the other way for a couple minutes while I make a run for it? Just give me your name & address - I'll send you a little something next time I see a post office.

Soldier: Saddam, ol' buddy, don't bullshit a bullshitter. You've got NOTHING. Last week I was taking a dump on the floor of one of your palaces. You're just another lice-infested homeless guy right now. You've got about as much going for you as that bum in L.A. who tried washing my windshield for a quarter.

Saddam: Not true! Not true! See? $750,000 in cash! It's all yours. Just let me go.

Soldier: Not much, considering I'd have to split it 600 ways.

Saddam: You're not alone? Aw, CRAP!

Soldier: Game over, feces face. Let's go.

Saddam: But I'm Saddam Hussein! I'm President of Iraq! I'm willing to negotiate!

Soldier: Ok, fine. Let's negotiate. Here's my offer [cracking Saddam in the head with his rifle butt]. If you want, I can double it....

Saddam [clutching his bleeding scalp]: No, no, that's fine. I'll come quietly.

Soldier: That's better. Well, now that you've surrendered, you'll find that Americans treat their prisoners with dignity and respect. Anything I can get for you?

Saddam: Maybe some coffee?

Soldier: Done. HEY TED! Get me a cuppa joe for the schmo!... Anything else?

Saddam: No, I'm good. Thanks.

Soldier: My pleasure.... Now there's just one more little thing you can do for us...

Saddam: Whatever you want. Here's my notes with the names of the resistance leaders. I'll also be more than happy to personally escort you to all the WMD sites.

Soldier: Well, thanks, Mr. H., that's right neighborly of you... But that's not what I was getting at.

Saddam: Oh?...

Soldier: Yeah, well, ya see, Christmas is coming up fast, and, what with the boys being so far away from home and all, I was thinking you could help bring a little holiday cheer to the 4th ID Christmas party.

Saddam: And how would I do that?

Soldier: Simple, really. All you have to do is... [explains the plan]

Saddam: WHAT? Never! I have rights! I have my dignity! I...

Soldier [raising rifle butt]: Did you want to negotiate some more?

Saddam: All right! All right! I'll do it! Just don't hit me again.

Soldier: Better.

So, during the Special Forces Christmas party, a good time was had by all, thanks to the presence of a very special guest.

HO! HO! HO!

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Tue, 16 Dec 2003 04:20:33 GMT

DEMOCRATIC CAMPAIGN SLOGANS

Boy, I thought the Dems were screwed before. Now that Saddam's in custody, the whole party has become almost completely irrelevant.

Nevertheless, they have to toss a sacrificial goat on the altar of the 2004 Presidential election, and there are currently 9 demented, twitching ogres eager to throw themselves on the pyre.

Being a loyal American, I want to do my part to help one of them commit political suicide, so here, in accordance with this week's Alliance Precision Guided Humor Assignment, are my suggestions for some Democratic campaign slogans:

Dennis Kucinich - Now that I'm no longer desecrating your dead sons, I'd like to defile your live daughters (link via Frizzen Sparks).

Dennis Kucinich – “Your women, I want to buy your women. The little girl, your daughters. Sell them to me. Sell me your childrens!”

Carol Moseley Braun - Twice as diverse as Al Sharpton.

Carol Moseley Braun – Vote for me - unless you’re a racist misogynist.

John Kerry - Pardon my French

Howard Dean - Not to be confused with Howard the Duck.

Joe Lieberman - Because Al Gore used to like me.

Joe Lieberman - Don't worry, Gentiles, he'll still let you celebrate Christmas

Al Sharpton - Joe Stalin's politics, Kim Jong Il's hair

Rev. Al - putting "God" back into "God dammit, cracker, you better vote for me!"

Hillary Clinton - You know I can lick Bush. Wait... did that sound dirty? Nevermind.

Hillary Clinton - Now, more than ever. Because by 2008, I'll have died from the syphillis that Bill gave me.

Dick Gephardt – Dick and Jane run for the White House. Run, Dick. Run, Jane. Run! Run! Run!

Dick Gephardt - As Aryan as you wanna be.

Wesley Clark – Riding the short bus to the Presidency

John Edwards – Vote for me or my Klingon hordes will destroy you!

Or they can just go with the all-purpose Democrat slogan:

"It's not fair! Bush never should've won in the first place! Stupid electoral college! WAAAAAAHHHH!"

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!