I was looking at the bank account the other day and saw that my funds were looking a little low, so I thought about kidnapping one of the Filipino baggers at the Commissary for some quick cash, but decided against it because the IRS would take me to the cleaners on that windfall. Those guys don’t play around. In fact, I got a letter from the IRS, and I can’t tell you the sense of dread I experienced as I saw the return address on the envelope. As an “aware” American, I’m mindful of the IRS’ attempts to audit people, so I was concerned when I got this letter in the mail.

I looked at my wife, and I could tell she was anxious as well, so I stepped outside to take the letter to the trash. I’d just torn open the envelope and removed its contents when I noticed a fat, shadowy figure hiding behind the recycle bin. He told me that many such letters had been mailed out, and if I told him what the letter read, he would pass it on to “the right people”. This only made me more nervous, as I don’t frequenty encounter shadowy figures on my trips to the trash can. I went back inside my house with the letter, but not the envelope. My wife became visibly upset at this. I held her hand and prayed, then read the letter. I let go of her hand and told her I had to make another trip to the trash can, which only made her more upset.

I looked for the stranger hiding behind my recycle bin, but I couldn’t find him.

“The Truth is Out There, Paul.”

I spun around to see the man from my previous encounter standing in the shadow of my laundry room’s doorway. He was smoking a cigarette. As ominous blue clouds of smoke rose in front of his partially obscured face, he asked, “Did you see the contents of that letter?”

My knees felt weak. “This is it,” I thought, “this is how I go out.” I nodded at the man.

“What did it say?”

“Oh, they said they have one of my old savings bonds and they need me to confirm my address to so they can mail it to me.”

“Good, good,” he said, taking another sinister drag from his death stick.

Then the porch light suddenly came on. I looked at the front door, then back to the laundry room door to talk to the man, but he had disappeared along with my credit card bill. I went up to my wife and told her what the IRS wanted and about the missing bill. We both relaxed and I immediately went on to the Internet to see if I could connect the dots, figure out the conspiracy, and save America from certain doom.

While I was on the Internet, I could tell that it had been a slow news week. Some woman had single-handedly brought back the stereotype of the hysterical white lady who freaks out when too many of them colored men are skulking about, and wrote her own Lifetime Movie of the Week in the process. I tried to figure out where I had seen this before, and then it hit me: Airplane! Ah yes, the blubbering woman whom everyone lines up to shake and slap. If I recall, there were two Hare Krishna on that flight along with two jive talkin’ brothers who acted funny and spoke in a language no one could understand. It’s out on DVD along with the Blazing Saddles Special Edition. It looks like a trip to Best Buy is in my future. It also looks like terrorists don’t even have to bomb planes or fly them into buildings anymore. Just buy a few value meals from MacDonald’s, purchase some group airfare tickets, make frequent trips to the bathroom, and act indifferently toward nosy women. Voila! All the terror without the violence. Terror Fever: Catch It!

Also while searching the Internet, I saw a lot about Joe Wilson. I talked to one of the guys at work about Wilson and he asked, “Who the fuck is Joe Wilson?” I said it had something to do with Valerie Plame. “Who the fuck is Valerie Plame?” Yep.

In lieu of train derailments, chemical plant explosions, or car-bombings, let’s see what else captivated America this week…Oh yeah, Sandy Berger stuffed some documents down his pants and it’s all over the blogodome. Boy you just know the Republicans are going to get Ken Starr in on this one too, and I doubt President Clinton can handle yet another scandal. The guy’s got enough on his plate as it is with Whitewater and the Lewinsky–wait a minute, it’s Two-Thousand Fucking Four! Jesus, why am I reading about people from the Clinton Adminsitration? I was about two paragraphs into one news article about Berger when I immediately started to feel the effects of Clinton Fatigue, except Clinton didn’t really figure into the story, so it was more like a contact fatigue. At any rate, this “I Love the 90’s” thing has gone too far, what with the recycling of people and events from 1995 all over the place. A lot of conservative bloggers weren’t around for the Clinton Administration, so maybe they’re making up for lost time during a slow news week. Anything for fresh content, that’s what I always say.

In other slow news, it looks like Stephen Hawking lost a bet on a theory of his about Black Holes. It turns out that information about what goes into them can be retrieved, contrary to his earlier views. That’ll make me feel better when one of those things swings by Earth and slowly destroys me for an eternity (relatively speaking). Infinite Pain in Infinite Combinations, as the Vulcans say. At least our information will be teased out by some advanced race who’ll be able to listen to the eternal death cry of an entire planet. Thanks, Dr. Hawking!

Finally, a monkey has started walking upright like a human. It begins.

Shit.