I recently took a bit of a vacation from the internet, thanks to a “wardrobe malfunction” in my virus protection program, and in my absence the world continued on it’s downward spiral. I can’t complain, though, because without the ever increasing chaos in the world, I’d have nothing to complain about. So, join me, won’t you, as we board the descending proverbial handbasket and enjoy the sights along the way.

Attorney General John Ashcroft finally felt the effects of the bile he’s been spewing on the American public last week when a gallstone blocked the flow of pancreatic enzymes in his body, causing him to develop an acute case of pancreatitis. Doctors later discovered that the blockage wasn’t actually caused by a gallstone, but rather by Vice President Dick Cheney who had mistaken Ashcroft’s pancreas for a new Vice Presidential “undisclosed location.” This has come as a surprise to many who were shocked to discover that the man who was appointed U.S. Attorney General after losing a state election to a dead man not only has guts, but he’s also got some pretty big stones. As Ashcroft was being wheeled into surgery, he allegedly told his anesthesiologist that anyone who is against a Constitutional amendment banning gay marriage should just “bend over and take it like a man.”

The same day Ashcroft was hospitalized, jurors in New York found human brand name Martha Stewart guilty of fraudulent trading on Wall Street. In lieu of punishing Bush Administration friends from Enron and Worldcom, the domestic slave driver is expected to receive the maximum sentence possible – several years in a cell with Martha Stewart. I’m guessing that if Stewart actually is sentenced to do time, it’ll be less than 3 months before she’s shanked in the shower by someone who works in the prison kitchen. Very likely, her attacker will be none other than Dick Cheney, who will be discovered hiding out in his new “undisclosed location” after surgeons dislodge him from John Ashcroft’s pancreas.

At least we’re getting our troops out of Iraq. Not all of them, just the ones who are needed in Haiti to cement the suspected U.S. led coup that ousted democratically elected tyrant Jean-Bertrand Aristide. As President Aristide takes his global tour to fun and sun in Jamaica from the Central African Republic where he’s spent the last two weeks in exile. While many Haitians believe that no good can come from having their deposed leader just 115 miles from their own shores, others are pretty sure they can swim at least that far. Foreign policy wonks have acknowledged that we would have intervened in Haiti earlier, if only Haitians were as good as Dominicans at playing pro baseball.

Speaking of baseball, the American Pastime is facing scrutiny after some of the biggest names in the game have been accused of using steroids and other “nutritional supplements” without the express written consent of Major League Baseball. Sure, the addition of illegal drugs has finally made baseball somewhat exciting, but steroids destroy the purest, most quintessentially American aspect of baseball – the betting line.

And odds are you’ll have a great time on Tuesday, March 30th, when I perform in the "Two Drink Minimum" show in the Belly Room at The Comedy Store (8433 W. Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles, CA. 323-650-6268)! The show starts at 8:00PM and in exchange for your promise to enjoy at least two drinks, they’ll let you in for free! As a matter of fact, you don’t even have to enjoy the drinks, you just have to buy them.

See you on the 30th!

Vaya con Carne –

Your pal David