National Nitwit

(Moscow) Russian President Vladimir Putin spoke with reporters today to discuss the rash of tragedies surrounding some of his close acquaintances.

"I just don't understand what goes through the minds of depressed people," he said, looking off into the distance. "First Anna [Politkovskaya] throws herself down a stairwell and puts a bullet in her head, then Alexander [Litvinenko] kills himself with polonium-210, and now [former prime minister] Yegor Gaidar - my dear Timosha- tries to off himself. It's just too much."

Putin, visibly moved, recalled how Litvinenko looked in his casket.

"Sasha looked very nice really - he had on a black shirt with a grey collar, matching slacks and black shoes," he said, eyes misting over at the memory. "His hair didn't look quite right and I tried to brush it so it would lay right. But other than that, he looked very peaceful and nice."

Left: Yegor Gaidar, the latest of Putin's friends to try to kill himself

Putin said that he hopes that his public display of angst will help others in his position.

"At first you don't know what to do, what to say - you're just shocked," he said about learning of a friend's suicide. "But it's important to remember one thing - it's not your fault. The easiest thing to do when someone commits suicide is to blame yourself. The first thing that must stop is the 'what ifs,' or why didn't I see it', all that negative self-talk that goes through your head."

Putin also wanted to remind other grieving people about another important fact.

"Always remember - you are never alone. There are always people like me out there, and you can count on us to remember you," he said, wiping away a tear. "No matter how far away we are, you are always in our thoughts."

A Guest Editorial by Patrick Holt, a Man All Tore Up Inside

Dude, we need to talk. The past month, man, you’ve been nothing but a jerk to me—ignoring my calls, making excuses why we can’t hang out, all kinds of weird shit. After all, we’ve been best friends since 8th grade! So with the NFL playoffs and the Christmas holiday just a few short weeks away, we gotta clear the air: what is the big deal with me nailing your sister?

I’ll be the first to admit my faults. I should have told you about this tryst back in September. Having you walk in while I was balls-deep in her syrup-covered anus was not the ideal way for you to discover this sensuous courtship. But it’s not like we’re in high school or anything. Tina is a fully grown and voluptuous 22-year-old woman, and she can totally decide for herself who she wants to blow in a ‘93 Corolla after nine hits from a beer bong.

But I digress. You’re her big brother; her ‘protector.’ I respect the hell out of that. Being an only child, I don’t know exactly how that primal urge feels, but I had a hamster named Sammy when I was 9, and I would have totally flipped the fuck out if anyone made him dress up like a Klingon to do the nasty.

When all is said and done, I hope you know how much I care about Tina, and that I would never do anything to hurt her. This is not some random fling. When she gives me that luminous smile of hers, her left eyelid pasted shut with my nut butter, her hair drenched in an unholy mixture of sweat, salsa, and Colt 45, I know we have something special.

So there’s no need to worry about your sister, bro—she’s in good hands.

Left: Bostleman and his day of oral reckoning

(Minneapolis, MN) Despite "extra attention" paid to his teeth over the weekend, local resident Greg Bostleman's trip to the dentist resulted in the identification of seven cavities.

"In a word - fuck," muttered Bostleman as he left the dentist's office. "I mean, I flossed them, like, four times on Saturday and Sunday, and even gave them an extra brushing between NFL games on Sunday."

Bostleman, who admitted that he had not seen his dentist in "a couple of years," believed that his eleventh-hour efforts would pay off.

"I brushed them with baking soda, toothpaste, and even used some of this leftover grit from my kid's rock tumbler kit," he said, shaking his head. "It's like I totally wasted my time."

Left: Nothing a little elbow grease and some gumption couldn't have fixed

The worst part about the visit, said Bostleman, was the reactions from his dentist and the oral hygienist, who each expressed their concerns about the condition of his teeth.

"Both of them were giving me a bunch of grief about 'proper techniques' and 'daily routines' and shit, like I am some retarded 12-year-old," he said, rubbing his jaw. "That's half the reason I stopped going in the first place. I think I'll stop payment on the fucking check."

(New York) Syndicated radio host Rush Limbaugh backed up embattled comedian Michael Richards over his race-laden tirade last week at LA's Laugh Factory.

"Michael Richards didn't say anything that most of the GOP isn't thinking, deep down," Limbaugh told his listeners. "Admit it - how many times have you wanted to just let loose with the N-bomb when a black man said something stupid?"

Limbaugh said that Richards needs to "grow a pair" in dealing with the legal challenges laid down by those he offended.

"The time to talk about lynching is during these pretrial negotiations," he said. "Just look them straight in the eye and tell them you're going to hang them from a tree and stick a fork in their asses. Then negotiate."

Hecklers were handled a little differently in 1911

Limbaugh added that, in reviewing the tapes, he sees no need for Richards to apologize.

"Those Negroes should be glad he didn't call them something worse, like 'fucking liberals' or something," he said. "To be honest - I think we all had it better under Jim Crow. At least then those junglebunnies wouldn't have been in the club."

Left: Cutsie Band-Aid no help for a fractured talus

(Toledo, OH)The painful fall that Sarah Jacobs took last weekend resulted in a broken ankle for the 36-year-old Toledo resident, but husband Phil found a silver lining in this particular cloud.

"She had just signed us up for these gay-ass square dance classes," he laughed. "While I am sorry that Sarah is in a cast, I can now spend my Saturday afternoons watching football instead of listening to some dork call out 'Allemande Left' or some crap."

Jacobs said that he was "resistant" to his wife's desire to learn square dancing, but that he went along.

"I was hoping for some sort of divine intervention, and I'll be damned - I got one," he chuckled, scanning the sports page for game times. "With classes just a week away, I was beginning to sweat a little. What do they always say: 'God works on His own time." Yeah, that's a truism."

Left: Phil Jacobs simply cannot believe his good fortune

Jacobs said that he was at work when his wife first called him with the report of her injury.

"So I'm sitting at my desk, and this thought pops into my head while she's yapping and whining: 'No-square-dance-lessons,'" he said, stifling a guffaw. "I put her on hold for a second, set down the reciever, and screamed: 'YESSS!' My coworkers must have thought I was nuts, but at that moment I was the happiest man on the planet."

Jacobs said that he does not believe he is being insensitive to his wife's needs.

"Oh yeah - I'm doing a lot of waiting on her, no doubt," he said. "But that's a small price for what amounts to a complete redemption of my masculinity. How the hell would I have ever lived down the merciless ribbing I would have taken if I told [best friends] Dave and Josh I couldn't go to a Bengals game because I had to square dance? I'll tell you how - not at all. I'd just have to be dead inside, just dead."

(Chicago, IL) Jacob Dougherty knows a thing or two about addiction.

"I was a hard core gameholic and when I detoxed and after a year long battle, I managed to quit the PS2. I am now almost eight months sober and - until recently - had no desire for video games," the twelve-year-old recovering game addict said, noting that he still attends 12-Step meetings. "I had my share of waking up in strange rooms drenched in piss after a four-day video game binge. It wasn't fun."

Dougherty said the release of new gaming consoles Wii and PlayStation 3 is making recovery difficult for he and other gaming addicts.

"I'm speaking from experience. For years I went through countless gaming benders where I stayed awake for days before I did what I needed to do to get my gaming under control," he said, nervously looking over his shoulder. "Those years must have been awful for my parents and friends, but I have to admit I've been getting some serious cravings for video games lately."

Left: Sony's PlayStation 3 is making gaming addicts tweak

Dougherty recalled the events surrounding his bottoming-out.

"I knew that my life was just a mess. I wasn't going anywhere and it was a rainy day, and I just decided I didn't want to live that way anymore," he said, unconsciously twitching his head. "So I said goodbye to Mario, Final Fantasy, and Madden, and decided to have my mom check me into a treatment facility."

The recovering addict places the blame squarely on the shoulders of companies like Sony.

"The gaming companies tailor advertising to appeal to young adults by placing ads in pop-culture magazines, at music concerts, and on kid-oriented television shows," he said, scratching his arm. "They know that young people are highly influenced by their peers. So if an attractive guy or girl offers you a free video game in return for your email and cell phone number, run. Or you'll wind up like me: waking up in a cold sweat at night, hands trying to hit the X and B keys while trying to pick up a gold coin. Not cool, dude."

Guest editorial by Zeke, a meth head

Baby:

We have had our ups and downs, our fights, our restraining orders, but you know I love you.

And you know you'll come crawling right back to me after I kick methamphetamines.

Yeah, I know I'm in a bad space right now. I've spent the rent three of the last four months, sold every piece of furniture we had, and even traded your wedding ring for $40 of crystal meth. You got a right to be angry - I should have held out for at least $100 worth.

But I'm serious about quitting this time. Those last six times I quit, I didn't know what was really important. Like you. The baby. Our family.

Or what life is like without believing bugs are crawling under my skin. Nasty little fuckers! Ahhh!

When I get clean - and stay clean - we'll be able to the live the life we always dreamed about. I'll get the band back together, we'll cut an album, and I'll buy you that house you always wanted.

Because we were made for each other, baby. We're like soul mates. And you just know that nobody makes you feel the way I do.

Hey, hey - don't walk away. This time it's for real!

Listen - before you go - could you loan me twenty bucks? I have to - uh - fill up my gas tank to drive over to the detox clinic. You know I'm good for it.

Thanks, baby. And sorry about setting the bed on fire last week. You know how I get when I'm crashing - I'm like a fucking narcoleptic or something.

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

(New York)—Most of them came out of sheer love for spectacle; others, to share a sense of tradition with their children and grandchildren in this progressively techno-centered culture. But almost everyone came to this year’s Macy’s Day Parade with a sense of goodwill, fellowship, and national pride.

So it was a sad moment indeed when a previously unannounced float of German dictator and Nazi iconoclast Adolph Hitler drifted by, simultaneously enraging thousands of revelers and millions of at-home viewers around the world.

“I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes,” huffed Jon Howard, 33, of Newark, who stood with his small daughter. “It started off great - Sponge Bob, Spiderman, those three queers from the Rice Crispies box — and then wouldn’t you know it, here comes Mr. Genocide. Somebody’s head should roll for this.”

The Jewish community was particularly incensed by this blatant display of historical insensitivity.

“My mother spent 10 months at Birkenau, so yeah, this was a huge slap in the face,” remarked Tina Stein, an advertising executive from upper Manhattan. “The worst part was I didn’t think of the idea first — put a Nike swoosh on that baby and watch those Air Jordans sell, sell, sell.”

Left: Member of American Youth for Hitler waving at parade watchers

Not all parade attendees were unhappy with the inclusion of a Hitler float.


"It's an outstanding thing - it's enlightening to see that people want to stand up for what they believe in, and do it in a nonviolent way," said US Attorney General Alberto Gonzalez. "Maybe he gassed six million Jews, but at least Hitler believed in safe and secure nation that begins with borders open only to those who have a legal right to enter, and who have met all the lawful criteria to cross into our territory established by the sovereign people. Is that really so bad?"

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Foster rages against the machinery of laundry segregation

(Washington, D.C.)—DeWayne Foster has endured many forms of racism during his 32 years on this planet, yet he has always found the discrete prejudice of our nation’s capital “particularly ironic” during his short career as a postal clerk for the Washington Post.

However, nothing could prepare Foster for the overt bigotry he experienced earlier this week, when he switched laundromats and witnessed some of the most explicit discrimination he’s ever encountered.

“Look yo, before I even left, this Vietnamese bitch was separating the whites from the darks,” vented Foster as he paced a street corner near L’Enfant Plaza on his lunch break. “This is just another example of institutionalized, deeply entrenched…like, people being all whack and shit about the color of my motherfucking skin.”

Foster continued to rant as he dismissed the notion that this instance of “racial profiling” was in any way connected to the integrity of his clothing.

“Yeah, she tried to push her knowledge on me—‘black shirt stain white sock, Mr. DeWayne’—but I don’t buy that shit for a minute,” huffed Foster, growing increasingly incensed. “This ain’t about socks—this is about my people being brought to this country in goddamn chains. You hear me? Chains, man. I mean, if this slanty-eyed … fuckin’… if this bitch knew anything about what my people went through, she’d think twice before, you know, running her gums about her being colored, too.”

Left: Even the damned detergent is a product of segregationist ideology

Foster said that he is "sickened" with the direction in which the country is going.

"I did two tours in Iraq, and I come back here to this shit? I-don't-think-so," he railed at indifferent passersby. "George W. Bush - do you hear me? I did not get sent to the hot-ass desert to come back and be treated like a plantation slave. Let me tell you something - my momma never separated her whites and darks. No sir. She treated all her laundry the same."

Foster took a breath before continuing.

"And you can bet your cracker ass the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. did not get thrown in a Birmingham jail so that we could continue the evil of laundry segregation," he fumed. "It's time for change, people!"

Guest editorial by Jake Millen, certified equestrian trainer

You gotta hand it to that Hillary Swank. Most women looking like a thoroughbred would have given up and become stable-hands or something.

Not Hillary - despite having a face like Seabiscuit, she kept plugging away and got herself famous.

Now don't get me wrong - I appreciate her many fine qualities. She's got a nice, thick head with widely-spaced eyes sitting on a neck which is somewhat longer and lighter than most other breeds.

Her withers are high and well defined, leading to an evenly curved back. She's got deep, well-muscled shoulders, while her heart girth is deep and relatively narrow. Her legs are clean and long with pronounced tendons, and they move very smoothly in unison as she trots.

The bone structure of her haunches make room for long, strong muscling, and she doesn't look like the kind who'd fight the saddle.

But she's a woman, for gosh sakes, not a Palomino. And to think about what she's accomplished, in spite of being so dang ugly you'd want to scratch out your own eyes just as soon as look at her.

Yep - she's an inspiration, and if the whole actress thing don't work, she can always find work at the track.

Left: Employees cleaning up after the tragedy

(Terre Haute, IN) An accident involving three shopping carts left four people injured at an Indiana Kroger supermarket.

Police say a drunk shopper careened into the opposite lane of the cereal aisle in a bid to overtake a cart ahead of it when he collided head-on with two oncoming carts, witnesses said.

33-year-old Martin Llewelyn was arrested in the store by Terre Haute police after injuring four other patrons. All are in stable condition at area hospitals.

“He never did stop at the intersection, not at all," said one witness of the inebriated shopper. "He just flew through the aisle, maybe fifteen, twenty miles an hour. If he just pushed the cart slow they wouldn’t have gotten any of those injuries any at all."

Police charged Llewelyn with two counts of aggravated assault, one count of driving on a suspended license, a DUI, and one count of leaving the scene of an accident.

"The defendant had a blood alcohol level of .22, which is almost triple the legal limit," said a police spokesperson. "He's lucky he didn't kill anybody as he weaved through the deli and produce sections."

Left: Police leading away the drunk Llewelyn

One witness told police at the scene that he had to swerve out of Llewelyn's way because he was standing on the cart "like a surfboard," and another witness told police there that the drunk shopper was so far over on the wrong side of the aisle he was knocking canned goods off the shelf.

"Scared me half to death - one minute I'm looking at my coupons, and the next this wild-eyed lunatic is roaring past me in the paper goods aisle," said 72-year-old Marian Piasecki. "Drunk shoppers think they can drink and drive carts with impunity because of lenient sentences - I hope they throw the book at this idiot."

(Detroit, MI) Late in the second quarter of the Michigan-Ohio State game with OSU ahead 21-14, Wolverines fan Greg Polonia broke one of the cardinal rules of fandom.

"A-hole there got up with two minutes left in the half to take a shit," complained roommate Jake Hagerman. "You NEVER use the can while your team is on the field. That's what halftime and commercials are for."

The result was that the Buckeyes scored a quick TD right before the half, and Hagerman says that Polonia should take the blame.

"Everyone knows that bad things happen when a team's true fans are not watching the entire game," said Hagerman, throwing a half-empty beer can at the sulking Polonia. "Mr. "I-can't-hold-it-any-longer" gave the Fuckeyes a 14-point lead."

Left: It was more important for Polonia to sit in this room than to cheer on Michigan

The "Game of the Century," the first 1 vs. 2 matchup in this storied rivalry, was played a day after Michigan lost former coach Bo Schembechler. Hagerman said that he was "literally screaming" for Polonia to hurry his bathroom trip, but to no avail.

"If he could have just gotten his stupid ass out of the bathroom at the one-minute mark, maybe we could have held them to a field goal," he said, pounding the coffee table. "But no-o-o-o-o, not Little Miss Dainty Anus. What - did you douche in there, too? I swear to God I also heard him spraying the air freshener - Jesus Christ, dude, the national championship was on the line. What were you thinking?"

The Buckeyes will now play for the national championship for the second time since the 2002 season in Arizona on Jan. 8. As Polonia left to get some pizza, Hagerman turned to National Nitwit reporters.

"Tell you the truth? I think he did it on purpose," he whispered. "I think he just wanted to throw the game to Ohio State. I never did trust that shifty bastard."

(Los Angeles) Sources close to pop singer Britney Spears indicated that she performed a variety of domestic routines this morning in her Beverly Hills home.

"I watched her today as she placed a line of Crest on her pink toothbrush and scrubbed her teeth," said one source, requesting anonymity. "She spent approximately two minutes brushing her teeth, switching between up-and-down and circular motons."

On November 7, 2006, Spears filed for divorce from her husband Kevin Federline, citing irreconcilable differences and asking for both physical and legal custody of their two children, with limited visitation rights for Federline. Sources close to Spears said the divorce was never mentioned during the toothbrushing episode today.

"Britney was completely focused on performing proper oral hygiene, and K-Fed did not factor into her tooth care," said another anonymous source. "Nor did it appear that Kevin was involved when she gargled with Listerine."

Left: Artist's rendition of Spears and toothbrushing episode

The same source informed National Nitwit that, just prior to brushing her teeth, Spears ate breakfast with her children, Sean and Jayden.

"She ate a bowl of Cheerios with milk, and also ate half a grapefruit," said the source. "Then she had a cup of chai with a little cream. Sorry, that's all that happened, really. Do we still get the $1000 you guys promised?"

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Artist’s rendition of Inflation

(Washington, DC)—As Democratic leaders ride high on their sweeping midterm election victories, many Americans continue to live in stark fear—despite this political sea change—of a mysterious monster known as Inflation, which is rumored to sneak into the homes of working people, rob them blind, and fuck them wildly about the mouth and ass.

And while many on Capitol Hill continue to mount support for their proposed federal minimum wage hike, most are ignoring the real threat of Inflation, which is currently roaming through America’s inner cities unchecked and blindly fucking people to tears.

“It happened while I was driving home from my second job at the rubber plant, minding my own business,” remarked Tim Rogers, a Baltimore-area deliveryman who works nearly sixty hours a week to support his wife and daughter. “Next thing I know, this huge goddamn beast just carjacks me, steals my wallet, and fucks me in the ass. It had to be Inflation — it’s the only explanation.”

Left: The Rogers family before being fucked by Inflation

Sadly, Rogers is only one of millions left gaping and sore in Inflation’s wretched wake.

“I was takin’ out th’ trash when I heard him rumblin’ in the bushes,” muttered a tearful Betty Lewis, a 27-year veteran nurse in Birmingham’s public school system. “I tried to run back inside, but aft’r mah stroke, I’m not too fleet on mah feet. Then sure ‘nuff, Inflation had me weepin’ in the bushes, poundin’ away on mah ass.”

Only time will tell if a newly-elected Congress will take the battle against Inflation’s voracious savagery to the streets.

“Inflation is a soulless, bawdy creature, who has victimized more Americans than I can count,” boomed Maryland Representative and newly elected Democratic Majority Leader Steny Hoyer. “Will we slander it? Yes. Will we curse its horrid name? Certainly. Will we thwart it with concrete measures? Eh, maybe after lunch.”

Guest editorial by Matthew Vellequette, man on elevator

I see that you are in a hurry, and Lord knows when the next car will come along. However, let me make something perfectly clear:

You do NOT want to get on this particular elevator, dude.

You see, I ate a couple of bowls of high-bran oat cereal this morning, and had an egg salad sandwich for an early lunch. With onions.

The net result is that I am producing copious amounts of rather foul-smelling putrescence that could peel three layers of paint, or chase a hungry mutt away from a garbage can. I've been holding this gut bomb for about three minutes now, and this ass geyser's about to blow.

I'm not talking your everyday fart here, but rather the sort of gastrointestinal outburst that is reminiscent of a cross between raw sewage, dead chickens, and cotton candy.

It's the kind of Jockey-roasting rectal explosion that would bring tears to the eyes of a seasoned sanitation worker.

So do yourself a favor, pal, and take the next car, or you will soon be overcome by a stench so bad it would be outlawed as an illegal stimulant in a puking contest.

Left: Jerry Winslow, Eddie, and normal son Todd

(Madison, WI) "Defeat" is not a word in the vocabulary of Jerry Winslow, and the arrival of his son Eddie in 1978 posed a unique challenge for the industrial sales rep.

"When the doc said the word 'retarded,' it really threw me for a loop," said Winslow, admitting that he was "pretty weirded out" when faced with the prospect of parenting a special needs child. "But I made a decision right then and there: no boy of mine is ever going to be a quitter, no matter how mental or freakish he is."

Winslow vows that, despite his challenges, Eddie will one day graduate from a state college.

"Yeah, he's 28 now, and still working on the alphabet, but this kid is not going to let his old man down, are you Eddie?" he asked the young man. "Are you, sport? SPORT? Attaboy - now quit drooling, because humans don't drool!"


Left: Winslow not impressed with Eddie's "half-assed retard scribblings"

Winslow said that nothing will stop Eddie from reaching his dream.

"I don't care if we have to pay someone to take his tests for him - the kid is getting his bachelor's degree," said Winslow. "I will not have anyone in this family hiding his pansy ass behind the label of 'disabled,' so Mr. Knuckledragger here better think twice before playing the moron game to try and get out of being a success in life."

An Open Letter from Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

As a leading contributor to the National Nitwit and several other internationally recognized publications, I often suppress my personal sentiments for the sake of journalistic integrity, and am rarely compelled to voice my judicious insights on current events.

In fact, my last editorial from August on the fascist whimsy of Wikipedians was met with profound indifference even from my most committed readers.

You filthy bastards.

But I am obliged to finally make my deepest personal desire public, no matter what repercussions may come: I am in love with actress Scarlett Johansson, and formally invite her to take a ride on this Pilgrim’s wagon.

But lest you think me crass, let me elaborate: we live in a dangerous world. A world where terrorists dynamite children to undecipherable bits, democracies falter like blind stallions, and faith is, in the words of Paul Simon, “an island in the setting sun.”

Amid the vast sea of uncertainty, there is only one truth: Scarlett Johansson is smoking hot. And I’m not talking local-high-school-cheerleader hot. Johansson is so hot I’d stab my own mother in the uterus while pissing on my collection of Jethro Tull records. And I don’t even play those fuckers. Each one is bound in three dust-repellant slip covers and sits in a milk crate in my bomb shelter. Yes, I have a bomb shelter. Jigga what.

But I digress. Johansson’s beauty echoes the cosmos’ beauty. Her breasts are like two stars beaming through the galaxy, their effervescent halos blazing through my bedroom window, bounding around my unmade bed and a mound of Spree wrappers, their blessed light glistening on my typewriter keys where I write this poetic missive now.

So Scarlett, my Scarlett, let us be true to one another: please bang me. In this land of broken dreams, where we toil without joy, nor love, nor light, it will be the best 9 seconds of your life.

(Chicago, IL) South Side resident Ed Pacheco was excited when three Chicago police cruisers arrived in front of his East 69th Street flat.

"They had guns drawn and knocked on my neighbor's door," he said, rocking on his front porch. "I was expecting a real fight, something that might make it on the evening news."

Unfortunately for Pacheco, 28-year-old Aaron Fletcher - wanted on a misdemeanor count of marijuana possession and a bench warrant for unpaid speeding tickets - went peacefully with officers.

"Why, that asshole was as scared as a kitten in a pit bull ring," he dejectedly recalled. "I thought he would at least take a swing at the cops, but he totally chickened out. What a loser."

Left: Uneventful arrest leaves neighbor wanting more

Pacheco said that he was "excited for a minute" when Fletcher suddenly went to the ground.

"Turns out he tripped on the curb, and he's all like: 'My bad, my bad,' and shit," he said, shaking his head in disapproval. "At least he could have started screaming 'police brutality' or something. And when he stood up, not even a scratch. To think I wasted four minutes worth of digital video recording this garbage."

Looking away, Pacheco remained resolute in his quest.

"The next time they show up, I'm going to shout something like 'He's got a gun' and see if I can make something happen," he said, putting away his camera. "If I got to live in a hell hole like this, I ought to at least make a little green filming these assholes."

(New York) The death of 60 Minutes journalist Ed Bradley sparked an investigation by NBC's rival program Dateline NBC.

"The unusual circumstances surrounding the death of Ed Bradley require further investigation," said Dateline anchor Stone Phillips. "I mean - doesn't anyone find it odd that one day the guy's investigating criminal activity, and the next he's dead?"

Bradley reportedly died from complications due to chronic lymphocytic leukemia on November 9 at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York. Phillips said that the coroner's report contained "inconsistencies."

"They refer to him as 'Edward' on that form, but anyone who knew him realized he was always 'Ed,' just plain old 'Ed,'" he said, thumbing through files. "No way this was chronic lymphocytic leukemia - I'm betting he was poisoned, or took a bullet to the old cerebellum."

Left: Digging for something that smells like truth

Phillips denied that the sinking ratings of Dateline are in any way connected to its investigation of Bradley's death.

"In an age when nothing, it seems, is too painful to talk about, people just seem to want to ignore that Ed Bradley was LYNCHED BECAUSE OF HIS SKIN COLOR," he intoned. "I think it is no coincidence that his white blood cell count was elevated, especially in an era of a resurgent KKK and active neo-Nazi groups. And, truth be told: even if it was leukemia, we have one hell of a story here, don't you think? White blood, black man - this has racism all over it."

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

(Milwaukee, WI)—Faith-driven rock band Messiah Shroud had a disturbing moment of clarity after observing their fan base at a club performance late Saturday night.

According to eyewitness reports, there were approximately 30 people in attendance, most of whom were teenage girls between the ages of 12 and 17.

“I can’t believe I quit playing the bar scene for this bullshit,” remarked lead guitarist James Xavier between drags off his Parliament menthol backstage. “I can’t even flirt with these young-ass groupies, dude—I’m on probation for another three months.”

Left: Saving souls, losing self-respect

Xavier said the change from being "a band with true artistic vision" to performing songs like "Jesus Rock My World" has been difficult for the band.

"I have to admit - it's hard to get behind these insipid lyrics and predictable chord structures," he said, knocking down a 40-ounce Mickey's Malt Liquor backstage. "But then again, these Christian promoters pay up square every night. I like to eat, so these Jesus gigs do have their positive aspects."

Sources close to the group cite vocalist Zach Evans as the driving force behind the band’s musical makeover, which began in late 2004 after he attended a church retreat. Formerly known as Banished Moon, the quintet sacrificed a lucrative contract with an independent label to change their format from hallucinogen-inspired emo-thrash to Christian metal.

“This is so lame,” huffed bassist Ian McCormack after the two-song encore. “Did you see those kids? I think one girl had a Sponge Bob shirt on. At this rate, I’m never gonna score a threeway on the tour bus.”

(Portland, OR) A homeowner who fended off pesky religious solicitors by punching them in the nose said he learned the tactic by watching television shows such as the Discovery Channel's Shark Week.

"It's like your worst nightmare," Anderson said by phone from his Portland home, calling the incident "an adventure which has made life that much more precious and interesting."

Anderson was at his home near a popular surfing spot near Tillamook Head on Saturday when something grabbed his leg. Realizing it was a Jehovah's Witness, he slugged the predator repeatedly in the nose to get it to loosen its grip.

"It felt like getting clamped in a bear trap," he said. "It was a piercing pain accompanied by annoying pamphlets, and then everything went numb."

Anderson said he learned from television shows that a shark's nose is its most sensitive area, and he figured it would also work on Jehovah's Witnesses.

"Yeah, those crazy bastards can smell a sucker just like sharks smell blood in water," he said. "And once they get ahold of you, they won't let go. It's a damn good thing I watched 'Shark Week' to learn the nose-blast technique, or I probably would have been converted by now."

Left: Deadly pamphlets led to evasive action

Marvin Beitleman, 54, was one of the Witnesses confronted by the quick-thinking Anderson.

"Look - we were just passing out tracts," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "There was no reason for him to pop me in the face like that. Ouch. That really hurt."

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

(Annapolis, MD)—Ousted Maryland Governor Robert Ehrlich, who has all but lost his bid for re-election to Democratic newcomer and Baltimore City mayor Martin O’Malley, announced his fervent refusal to concede victory or urinate until all provisional and absentee ballots are counted later this week.

Ehrlich’s apparent loss is part of a sweeping national sea change that has witnessed massive Republican losses in key gubernatorial races, not to mention nearly 30 seats lost to Democrats in the House of Representatives.

And while Governor Ehrlich is known as a man of heart-felt principle in the Old Line State, he has doctors and personal aides panic-stricken with his proclamation to “hold his whiz” for weeks, if necessary, for the official race results to come to light.

“Bob’s a great guy, Billy, but he’s had four cups of coffee since 5 a.m., and it’s gonna be days until those paper ballots are counted,” remarked campaign manager Bo Harmon. “He’s gonna rupture his urethra or something choking all that putrid piss back.”

Left: Ehrlich struggling to keep his bladder from bursting

For his part, Ehrlich remained firm in his commitment.

“Just as this great nation holds it breath on two entrenched senate races this bleak morning after Election Day, so too will I hold my urine until every Maryland vote is tallied,” Ehrlich winced before a dwindling, sleepy crowd at his campaign headquarters, his hands groping at his aching crotch. “If these kidneys rupture for the sake of democracy, then so be it.”

Left: Ideological, but neurotic

(Boston, MA) Marc Jarvis, a worker for the gubernatorial campaign of Massachusetts Lieutenant Governor Kerry Healey, said that he and his coworkers have had "great dificulty" in getting agoraphobics to commit to a trip to the polls today.

"We get them on the phone, and they are all like: 'OK, pick me up at 9:30,' but when we get there they don't answer the door," he said, standing in the rain at a house in Beacon Hill. "And you know the person is in the house, because the curtains moved. What a waste of our time."

Jarvis said the campaign managers believed that agoraphobics would be an "ideal demographic."

"It makes sense - the whole terrorist angle has got to be of big concern to people who are afraid to leave their houses, right?" He queried, knocking again on the door of the woman he was supposed to drive to the polls. "But actually getting them out of the house? No fucking way, man."

Jarvis gives it his best shot, but agoraphobes are still resistant

One of the most frustrating aspects of the Healey campaign's "Get Out The 'Phobes" strategy, said Jarvis, has been the reluctance of these target voters to use the absentee ballot process.

"So I'm talking to this one lady, and I tell her to just pick up a ballot on a good day, like when she's doubled up on the Xanax or something," he said, shaking his head. "Then she tells me: 'Can you take the envelope to the mailbox for me?' Jesus Christ - it was a hell of a lot easier when all we had to do was buy off the homeless bums to go vote at the church near the shelter, and we didn't even have to drive those clowns."

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Hussein imploring a hot, burqa-clad court clerk to join his “tit-fest”

(Baghdad, Iraq)—After a long and belabored trial that involved attorney assassinations, underhanded deals and backroom conspiracies, iconic dictator Saddam Hussein was finally found guilty on several counts of mass murder and sentenced to death.

However, it appears that Hussein’s legal maneuvering knows no bounds, since the convicted mass-murder has found a centuries-old loophole in Iraqi law that will allow him to bypass the traditional hanging and be put to death by “mammary suffocation.”

“If it be Allah’s will that I die as a martyr to the cause of Iraqi independence in the face of oppression and invasion, than let it be so,” Hussein proclaimed before an enraptured courtroom audience. “Now somebody get that Lindsay Lohan on the phone—I want to die with that bitch’s massive silicone jugs smacking me in the face.”

Hussein continued to outline his preferred departure from this mortal coil.

“Pam Anderson, Mariska Hargitay, Heidi Klum—I want ‘em all,” Hussein noted. “I want my last waking memory to be of nipple chaffing against nipple, so when I meet the prophets of the Lord I can tell them I wasted nothing. Except a few hundred Shiite civilians in Dujail. Those fuckers had to go.”

And while many of Hussein’s desired celebrities were not available for comment, Hollywood temptress Lindsay Lohan expressed her heart-felt contempt for Hussein’s proposal.

“There is no way I’m banging that black dude who runs the UN,” Lohan remarked while an underpaid Vietnamese girl painted her toenails. “Unless he like, joined the NFL. Then I’d only blow him. I have standards, you know.”

Left: Who could have predicted that crazy verdict?

(Washington, DC) President Bush, speaking with National Nitwit reporters in the Rose Garden, expressed surprise at the outcome of the trial of Saddam Hussein.

"I was shocked as shit, to be honest with y'all," he said, scratching his head. "After the O.J. Simpson trial, I kind of lost faith in justice. Just goes to show you - I thought he was gonna walk for sure."

Bush said that the Iraqi trial venue was his biggest concern.

"I was positive those Iraqis would set that bastard free," he said. "This is a major achievement for Iraq's young democracy and its constitutional government, not to mention the fine work performed by the couple million bucks we had to spread around those greedy Baghdad lawyers and judges."

Bush: "Go figure - we thought he would walk."

Bush said that he and his administration were "especially blown away" by the death sentence handed down by the court.

"I was figuring, what - six months under house arrest, plus, like, some kind of probation and community service," he admitted. "Death, huh? I never saw that one coming. And to think we would get lucky and have the verdict come in right before the 2006 election here at home. Wonders never cease."

(Manchester, VT) Writer David Mitchell Owens, suffering through a two-week case of writer's block, said that all of his "old standby" remedies have failed him.

"Jim Beam usually gets the creative juices flowing, but the bourbon let me down," he said, knocking back another double shot on the rocks. "I've been hitting the bottle hard for well nigh over a week, but I can't even come up with an interesting character, let alone an actual plot or storyline. Fuck me!"

Owens, who is currently working on his second novel, has had a "fair amount" of success as a short story author, and his first novel - Dripping Drawers - has been accepted by a vanity publisher. The struggling author said that his attempts at a "psychedelic jump-start" to his creativity also failed.

"I called up this old stoner friend of mine, and we went on a 48-hour LSD bender," he recalled, shaking the ice in his glass. "I saw some freaky visions, but I'll be damned if I can remember any of them."

Snorting cocaine to get the creative mojo a-happening

As a last resort, said Owens, cocaine has always proven to be an effective method of getting past writer's block for him.

"It used to be that a couple of grams of Bolivian marching powder and I could crank out 50 pages of material," he said, closing his eyes. "But after three days and $1000, all I could come up with was some shitty poetry about bad relationships. At this rate, I'll have to graduate to crystal meth and heroin to get any work done."