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END OF THE YEAR SPECIAL |
LEAVES WASHINGTON A
DESERTED SMOKING RUIN
Once Thriving K Street—Now A Ghost Town, Where All The Lobbyists Have Long Since Sought Honest Work By Whitglove Perisher, OBE WASHINGTON, December 26 –Since the 2002 passage of the McCain-Feingold/Shays-Meehan Campaign Finance Reform Bill, Washington is a different city, a sadder city, but a much more honest city. According to Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist (R-TN), “If you’re rich or represent a wealthy company or organization, well, we won’t even listen to you. It’s the law.” Congress once gauged everything according to fundraising and the election cycle, but no more. There’s no longer any need to pander to potential campaign contributors, since elections are now a matter of “putting your facts and beliefs out there and letting the people decide,” said one former fundraiser. And that means that today Congress just listens to the people. “When I’m considering legislation,” said former shakedown artist turned honest Congressman Tom DeLay (R-TX), “I just ask citizens to line up and tell me what they think is good for the country.” “I remember when money ruled this town,” says former K Street consultant Bart Widless, “but today it’s all about facts, sincerity and probity. They don’t need my kind anymore.” Widless works today as a cobbler in a humble shoe stall where, he says, “I may not have a fancy suit or a Lexus, but I at least have my integrity.”
OUR FEARLESS PREDICTIONS 
Reagan To Light Up Our Life Again By Futures Correspondent Culhane McElweeze Based on all available findings, 2004 promises to be a very stupid year. Given that the United States, which dominates the world, is led by a man who can most charitibly be called “stupid and incoherent,” it’s not surprising that we’re headed in that direction. The problem, though, is determining not how stupid, but what stupid. Using a supercomputer and top secret DARPA-generated software, I have created what I call the Wayfront Machine. And I’m convinced that the following stories will happen. Maybe not in the same order, but are a 97 percent certainty. So, jot them down and tell me at the end of the year whether I was right. I always am, you know. So, here they are, the top 10 stories of 2004. 1. CONGRESSIONAL REPUBLICANS URGE U.S. TO PUT REAGAN’S FACE ON MOON 2. ANN COULTER SUCCUMBS TO MAD SOW DISEASE 3. BUSH RE-ELECTED BY AN OVERWHELMING MINORITY 4. ATKINS DIET CONTINUES TO SWEEP AMERICA AS MILLIONS CHOOSE COLON CANCER OVER PUDGINESS 5. JACQUES CHIRAC RULES THAT FROM NOW ON, THEY “DON’T WEAR PANTS” IN THE SOUTHERN PART OF COUNTRY 6. CANADIAN RESEARCHERS CLONE BEEBLES THE TALKING RABBIT 7. FARKISTAN, OSTEOPATHIA, TURKEY-LURKEY AND TUNBRIDGE WELLS TO JOIN EUROPEAN UNION IN 2005 8. ASHCROFT TO IMPOSE “CHRISTIAN SHARIA” ON U.S. 9. JEWS TURN RUNNING OF WORLD OVER TO MALTESE 10. NORTH AND SOUTH KOREA EXCHANGE HOME PHONE NUMBERS |
  In A Guerilla Jail With A Notorious Cuban Gusano By Gabriela Bocagrande Feliz Navidad, my darlings. It has been a very trying year’s end for me, I must say, as I have been rotating through various forms of captivity since mid-November. As you will recall, when last I wrote you, I had followed Dumbo “Dittohead” Limbaugh into rehab in hopes of a scoop that was not forthcoming. Next thing I knew, a stealthy health care professional took a surprise blood sample while I was napping and the facility refused to release me, claiming that I was off-scale high on a series of forbidden system pollutants. What a crock. I’d had nothing but caffeine, nicotine, glucose and Demerol since breakfast. I won’t bore you with the details of my escape. So what next? Oh yes, I foolishly thought to return to my native Colombia for the holidays, mistakenly believing that a festive ceasefire was in place. This turned out to be untrue, and I was discourteously kidnapped right out of satellite parking at the Medellin airport. Apparently, the Ejercito Nacional de Liberacion confused me with Christina Aguilera, and the Comandante thought he could extract a handsome ransom from MTV. Since then I’ve been frog-marching through the sierras in extremely unfashionable footwear, while periodically forced to perform “Genie in a Bottle,” with a horrible lightweight swingbeat band these greasy guerrillas have cooked up for their own rustic entertainment. This has been an especially long week. For one thing, the accommodations out here are not four-star. In fact, the latrine is not even half-moon, but I won’t go into that; it’s too upsetting and also repulsive. There is no hairdryer or cable, and most of the provisions were found under rocks at least a year ago. Some meals, however, are not yet dead, never mind cooked. It’s a tough way to keep your weight down, my darlings. Even more distressingly, I’m not sure when I’ll be back Stateside. The Comandante, an utter moron, says MTV is not paying, which is not surprising. I have asked him to contact the Editor/Publisher of DC Pox, who has surreptitiously communicated to me by cell phone that he is willing to pony up an amount in the low three figures -- approximately his entire revenue stream for this quarter. I am calculating that my only hope is to become a major pain in the ass to the guerrilla forces, so that they are motivated to leave me behind when we hit Putumayo. But not so major a pain that they are motivated to shoot me between he eyes before then. It’s a fine line. A career as a gossip columnist and war correspondent is not for everyone, let me tell you. In the meantime, please send your ransom contributions to dcpox.com. Cash advances on your various credit cards would be helpful. Remember, it is the season of giving, except for me. Also, do not attempt rescue. As soon as these guys even suspect they hear helicopters they go stark raving mad and start lighting fuses and detonating everything in sight. The environmental damage could be substantial. Also, I could be killed, and this is to be avoided, don’t we agree? So, until we meet again, have a Happy New Year and do not, not, not kiss anyone you do not know well, even if you are intoxicated and it’s midnight. Ciao now, GB
© The Washington Pox 2003
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