Nine • One One

We, here at Foreign Score Corp. in New York City, were
shocked and saddened by the events of September 11, 2001.

One year later, we were laughing at an absurd verbal blunder
in a televised speech by George Bush. Within seconds, we were
again shocked and saddened by the realization that this man was
the Leader of the Free World, virtually the President of Planet Earth.

[ click HERE to experience this classic video clip for yourself ]
{ sorry - FLASH animation no longer functions online - c'est la vie }

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

There's an old saying in Tennessee, I know it's in Texas, Fool me once, Shame on you, Can't get fooled again, Audio Video Mp3 Flash Movie Mpeg

Independent News Media Matters Center for American Progress PolitiFact BuzzFlash Air America Radio

Bush Humor & Satire This Modern World Mark Fiore's Animated Shorts How Dumb is Too Dumb? BushFlash The Onion

Articles "Unauthorized Entry" Slate "The Ex-Presidents' Club" The Guardian

Reports "The Man Who Knew" PBS Frontline "The Iraq War Decision"    PBS Frontline

In Search of... Dubya

This is fun... and enlightening...

Type (or copy & paste) these two words: miserable failure
into the Google searchbox, then press the "I'm Feeling Lucky" button.

Try it right now...

[ THE PARTY'S OVER ]

My Butter Is Not Protected
by Jeff "Roc" Reicheneker

While combing my Afghan hound last night,
using a comb in the bright moon light,
praising the moon for it's light in the blight,
my Afghan hound sensed my flinchy fright.
My Butter Is Not Protected.

I was walking down Eliot, looking for booze,
and I thought of my nose, and I thought of my shoes.
I wanted some reds to lift me out of the blues
that I get in whenever blues is rhymed with shoes,
or when I run out of duct tape, staples, or glues,
or when I sing for the prisoners in prisons and zoos.
My Butter Is Not Protected.

I'm a way-gone daddy, ill in the head,
but my water is free of mercury and lead.
My tamper-free packages keep me living, undead.
There's a fence all the way 'round my old homestead.
There are ne'er any scorpions in the sheets on my bed.
I am happy with all of the food I am fed,
but there's no protection on my crock of Shedd Spread.
My butter is wrapped in wax paper instead
of sealed like a caplet in plastic and red,
writing to warn me of danger and dread.
My Butter Is Not Protected.

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