Bush All About Stopping Other People's Wars

Earlier this week, President Bush sent Condoleeza Rice to Georgia to tell Russia just what is wrong with their war. Now, I'm all for giant, flagrant, incandescent acts of hypocrisy. Just the other day I used my mounted fox to beat the hell out of a taxidermist. But, really, Bush is gonna send... wait. I have to say this in a caveman voice. Bush send Condy lady make stop fightings? Krug confused and violent.

Rice even went so far as to say that Russia's actions are unacceptable in this day and age, obviously forgetting the two wars she's had a hand in prolonging indefinitely. Now, what makes Russia's attacks in Georgia so wrong? The area of Georgia they invaded, South Ossetia, wants to be part of Russia, but Georgia won't let them. There have been Georgian attacks on Ossetians for years. But America will be damned before we let the Russians go in there and take land that the Georgians say is theirs!

You see, Georgia is a democracy. Since we are also a democracy, that means the only possible government that can work is... you get the picture. So, by no means will a democracy be invaded, even if it is being invaded by another democracy (see: Russian Federation), so sayeth the Lord.

The ground rules have been laid. Bush keeps saying it is unacceptable to invade a democratic nation. I assume he's trying to cover his own ass by throwing that "democratic" word in there to avoid anybody going "Wait! Wait! Didn't you needlessly and pointlessly invade a nation just the other day? Oh, no, that was years ago, wasn't it? What do you mean, 'it's still going on?'"

Iraq's government at the time of the U.S. invasion could best be described as a "Shithole." That made it perfectly okay to invade. Now, with hard work and zero planning, we've managed to turn it into a "Big Ol' Mess of a Shithole," and we all know more words means more gooder governin'.

Bush sending the Rice Brigade to the warzone to smooth things over equates to the part in "Silence of the Lambs" when the FBI enlists the help of Hannibal Lecter to find Buffalo Bill. America (Hannibal) says a bunch of crazy shit, licks its lips, and helps Georgia (Jodi Foster) find a way to stop Russia (Buffalo Bill). Everything's going fine, when all of a sudden America cuts the face off of one of its captors and escapes in an ambulance. Not really sure what that symbolizes, so it will probably happen literally.

So, this is a warning to Georgia. If you want all the people to keep their faces, tell Condoleeza Rice to shut the hell up. Otherwise, America will be coming after you in the sequel, in which you will be played by a different actress who forgets to use a Southern accent.

Man Gives Up After Years Spent Planning YouTube Video

A bad take during shooting led Seattle resident Albert Dykstra to abandon his dream of uploading a video to YouTube after spending three years perfecting the art of balancing miscellaneous stuff on top of other stuff.

Dykstra reached the decision during the first take of the video, in which an attempt to sit a boat engine precariously on top of a unicycle ended just the way one might think it would.

"Albert was devastated," cameraman Jose Aguilar said. "I tried to convince him to just try again, but he said he doesn't work that way. He does it in one take or not at all. He's an artist."

The shock of the failure hit Dykstra's wife and children hardest of all, as he'd almost completely neglected them to spend vast spans of time holed up in a shack in the Seattle forest teaching himself to find an object's center of gravity just by setting it on the edge of a desk so that it wouldn't fall, then pulling it slightly farther over the edge, watching it start to fall, and then trying to find that place in the middle where it wouldn't fall but would kind of sway a little and look like it was about to fall.

"I had to work two jobs to support us while he spent all his time out there dropping stuff on the floor," said Dykstra's wife, Laura. "The whole time I kept telling our 4-year-old triplets 'Don't worry, sweethearts. Soon Daddy will be back with a new skill and we'll be able to afford your insulin.' Now we'll have to solely rely on my ability to flip quarters into distant cups."

Contemporaries in Dykstra's field also felt gut-wrenching remorse when they heard about the meltdown. He was regarded as one of the best modern YouTube-oriented balancists, taking influence from such legendary greats as Francois the Steady-Handed and One-Leg Benny Sanchez.

"It's shocking. Absolutely shocking," amateur balancist and Dykstra admirer Derek Jeter said. "I mean, I never actually saw him do anything because he never got a video online, but I read in his blog that he made one of those champagne glass pyramids and then put it on a German Shepherd and it didn't fall over, even when the dog took off after a rabbit. That's pretty damn good, assuming it's true."

Dykstra declined to be interviewed for this article, though a source close to him (it's his wife) said he has devoted himself to planning a new YouTube clip in which he will vomit into a toilet for hours while his children cry in the background.

Russia: Just So Darn Cute

Oh, Russia. Just look at you. I remember when you were all big and menacing, pointing all your missiles at everyone and daring them to make a move. Everyone was so scared of you, and for good reason. You were a bad ass. A bad ass with a gun in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other, and we, the rest of the world, had to keep telling you to please stop drinking so much before you killed us all.

But look at you now. No more Union of Soviet Socialist Republics or "CCCP," as you called it. Which, to be honest, didn't make sense, cause none of those words start in C or P. No more mass tyranny. No more tension-filled Olympic games where the crowd was just waiting on one of your hockey players to pull a knife. You've changed. You're old now. Senile. You always forget where you put the gun, so you just pick up another bottle of vodka, softly binge yourself to sleep every night, and slur a prayer to "Gyod," asking him to please not let you asphyxiate to death.

So I get it. I see what you're doing in Georgia. You've got your publicists ready and you're starting a war with one of your old nations right as the Olympics fire up. It's adorable. I love how you managed to throw the word "genocide" around, too, in order to make the U.S. and all the countries that disagree with you seem heartless and uncaring toward the Ossetians. Just like the old days.

And those bombs you dropped? Priceless. You've whacked Georgia on the head with your cane, called it a "whippersnapper," and retreated to your corner chair to loudly fart without fear of any social consequence. The rest of the nations will just give each other a knowing glance and a poorly-concealed smirk. "There goes Russia again. Get the Lysol."

We could fight back against you. Try and show you the error of your ways, or at least set you up with a volunteer job at a polling place for each election. We could throw you into a home and never see you or hear from you again. But the truth is, Russia, we just love having you around too much to do any of that. You give us much needed laughs when we visit every few months. So we'll do what we always do: let you go. Sure, when you try to steal some baklava from the supermarket, we'll scold you in front of the employees. But that's just a show, because as soon as we're out the door we'll giggle uncontrollably, high-fiving each other at how priceless you are. Then we'll realize that you really thought the store was a communist warehouse and you could just take whatever you wanted, and we'll laugh even harder.

Please, Russia, just keep doing what you're doing. We know that all your precious idiosyncracies are just the result of the tightening grip of Death. But until we have to mourn your loss, we're going to crack up at your quarrels.

Movies I Haven't Seen: "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2"

From the opening scene of a coven of witches slowly roasting a child over a garbage-can fire, to the gut-wrenching finale featuring a "Gilmore Girls" reunion amongst a throng of the walking dead, "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2" is this summer's must-watch action-horror-explosion blockbuster.

There's really only one adjective that can describe this gorefest: sexy. Sexy, sexy gorefest. Gorefest is a noun. Also, it is impossible to put too many sexies in front of the word gorefest. It's just that sexy. So, let me just sum it up by saying that "Sisterhood" is a (sexy)^n gorefest, where n = infinity. You can't even fathom it with your useless human brain.

The explosions don't seem to stop in this film. Anything that can blow up, does. Even things that can't blow up just explode anyway without regard to the laws of nature or physics. At one point an apple, brough to life by one of the witches (the hot one), jumps onto a train, yells "I'm bad to the core!" and then blows up in a conflagration of death and terror that would spin a normal movie into a spiral of chaotic destruction that none could believe. But this is no normal movie. As you view "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2," you reach a new level of consciousness previously only thought to have been acheivable by the deranged. Everything makes sense. The planets align, and you can see them, man! You watch them get in a straight line (you can't see past Jupiter cause it's all fat and blocks the others) and the whole universe shudders, exhales, and you understand the movie. It's some deep stuff. Deep explosions and subtle eloquence.

See, the Traveling Pants are a metaphor. In the 1800s, when this film is set, laws were in place that only allowed men to create pants. Women couldn't even wear pants, lest they face brutal beheading and village-endorsed rape, in that order. So the sisterhood of witches came together in the dead of night and brought some crazy-ass pants to life by sewing them with the hair of a werewolf and washing them in the blood of a man from western Louisiana. Thus, the living pants traveled about the countryside, kicking stuff and disrupting the social order of early America by subtly influencing leaders to make policy decisions that could one day bring about women's suffrage. It's gripping. You're going to cry a bunch.

I would say there are few films as poignant, moving, and violent as "Sisterhood." It's like Quentin Tarantino meets Che Guevara meets Penny Marshall. You will love it.

Guy in the North Does Something Racist

In a surprising move, a man from the Northern United States, not the South, did something racist today.

Charlie Buckwalter, 45, committed the racist act at around 8:00 a.m. in New Hampshire, prompting a thorough investigation into his background.

"We figured he was probably from Georgia or Alabama or one of those shitholes," Police Chief of the North Donald Franklin said. "There's no way a guy from up here could do anything racist. That shit's all centralized in the Southern states. Turns out he's from Vermont."

After the incident, the North stepped back, took a look at itself, and then decided it was still better than the South. It did win the Civil War, after all.

The North began to wonder how one of its denizens learned how to be racist, as this is the first reported act of racism to ever occur within its gilded boundaries. A meeting was called and questions of morality were posed, but they were stricken down because it was breakfast time, and everyone was "freakin' hungry." As of press time, they are still eating.

Action has yet to be taken by the North against Buckwalter, as the region is currently questioning Buckwalter about any episodes of "The Dukes of Hazzard" he may have seen.

Fat Old Lady Has 'No Interest in Shaving'

At 2:35 p.m. on Tuesday, local layabout Janice Boyer, 67, finally reached the point at which she does not feel the need to remove unsightly hair from her body.

"Look, I'm like a hundred years old," Boyer said. "There's really no point in keeping up appearances at this point. I'm just letting the kudzu grow where it wants, and let me tell you, that's damn near everywhere."

Boyer ultimately decided to cease shaving when she squeezed into her bathtub Tuesday afternoon, realizing she had finally become so large that she displaced any amount of water present in the tub. Boyer never learned to shave without water, so in response to the tub's impolite attitude toward her girth, Boyer vowed never to use that same ragged razor she's been using since 2002. It really left a lot of hair behind, anyway.

The effects of a ceased shaving regimen were immediately apparent. Boyer went from a slick, manatee-like woman to some kind of horrible forest beast that may or may not have gills. Despite horrified stares in the supermarket and a request to appear on "Ripley's Believe It or Not," Boyer has stayed true to her beliefs, maintaining an utter lack of self-respect. She hasn't even bothered to break all the mirrors in her home in a melodramatic display of psychological collapse.

"People say I need to wear pants now," said Boyer, sporting a skirt that probably fit her when she married her first of three husbands in 1959. "I don't get what the big deal is. Lots of those Middle-Eastern girls don't shave, and look at them. Not the terrorists, I mean. The regular Muslims in the online dating commercials."

Despite Boyer's extreme racism and copious amounts of leg, armpit, and facial hair, she has recently entered a relationship with a strapping young Canadian man of 26.

*Ed. Note: At press time, the Canadian man mentioned in the above article has discovered that Janice Boyer is not, in fact, a bear, and has ceased attempts to tame her.