onfound it all!

Anger and severe frustration were the mood Monday, October 31—Halloween—2005 when Future Bob checked his notes for things to do and realized he had forgotten to prevent the death of Minnesota Senator Paul Wellstone.

Wellstone, a passionate former college professor and left-leaning Democratic Senator from Minnesota, was killed in October, 2002 in some sort of plane crash that also claimed the lives of members of his family and those aboard the plane. The details are long since lost to the ravages of time to 2005-dwelling Future Bob.

Prevention of the plane crash was on Future Bob's "to-do" list in the year 2005, though like many other events of that year have been unfortunately forgotten in time to change the future. Future Bob, as you may or may not know in 2002, has extensive bills and has to work two regular jobs in addition to his charitable contributions to the commune.

Had Wellstone's death been prevented, as per Future Bob's plans, the key Senate race in Minnesota could have been won by the Democrat and prevented Republican control of Congress and the White House in 2003, which of course led to several dark moments in recent American history such as the revoking of the 4^th Amendment and the passage of the "Sell the Homeless into Slavery Act of 2004."

With Wellstone's survival, a better period was possible for those crucial years of American history. Wellstone could have won re-election and unmasked his Senate opponent former St. Paul mayor Norm Coleman as the evil KGB mole Dmitri Raszokoff. As it stands now, history is unchanged and Coleman will not be revealed until the great Soviet Reunion of 2005.

Among other items on Future Bob's long list of regretfully-unchanged history: The Sept. 11^th attacks, a reign of terror by a trio of snipers, Will Ferrell leaving the cast of Saturday Night Live, the election of George W. "Nightmare" Bush, the release of Britney Spears' Oops… I Did it Again album, and several type-Os in his last commune article that weren't corrected.

To Future Bob's credit, he did prevent the noxious gas attack of December, 2001; the death of celebrity Tom Cruise at the hands of a gay lover; and the publication of Oprah Winfrey's Sex book.

Future Bob extends his deepest sympathies and sorrows to Wellstone's family, friends, and constituents, and hopes he can do more in the past (your future) to change history for the better. Please do not bog him down with e-mails questioning why he cannot change the past at any point in time from where he is now, it is a miserable experience trying to explain how the timeline and time travel works and it costs a lot of money to keep his futuristic past-broadcasting ham radio operating.

Once again, Future Bob is called upon to report to Long John Silver's for his first shift. Until next time, guard the country like the future depends on it—mine does. Future Bob signing off.

he radio waves have become a hotbed of political gaffs and slander lately, demeaning the nature of civil discussion and making it impossible to hear "Safety Dance" like you could before. The latest was discovered by this reporter when he woke up at the house of a friend, possibly of the other sex, and heard famed singer Harry Belafonte continuing his attack on Secretary of State Colin Powell.

Powell, who had been referred to by Belafonte only Wednesday on a San Diego radio show as a "house slave" for the Bush administration, was attacked again in a musical tirade in which the Desert Storm veteran was likened to a "tallyman," always come to tally Belafonte's bananas.

Despite the racially-infused charges and slander involved, Powell apparently didn't feel the accusations were personal attacks. State Department spokesperson Richard Boucher, when told of Belafonte's remarks by this reporter, responded, "I think you misunderstand entirely."

Again, this reporter repeated the statements, providing claps and trying to hit the same notes as Belafonte in his radio assault. Wearing a Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, and straw hat apparently did not capture the mood for the spokesperson either.

"It's possible that those remarks have been completely taken out of context," Boucher said. "Who do you work for again?"

Upon being escorted out of the building by burly dark-suited men, this reporter could not get his sunglasses and straw hat back, and is considering lodging a complaint.

Despite the relaxed reception at the State Department, who are undoubtedly hoping the inflammatory remarks will go away quietly, Belafonte's charges are serious. Possibly the most cutting remark was Belafonte's comparison of Powell to a black tarantula hiding in the banana bunches as he lifted six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch into the boat.

Local DJ and the coolest guy this reporter knows Vic Sandwich had insightful comments on the nature of the political discussion.

"Obviously, if Belafonte feels that Powell is being unfair in his tallying of the bananas, he's going to be pretty upset with him and lobby some unfair charges," Sandwich said, sitting in a big chair. "Was it fair to call Powell a black spider in the Bush administration? Maybe not. But when you're talking banana-pricing politics, people pull no punches."

When given the suggestion that Belafonte might be speaking figuratively, Sandwich made a raspberry.

"Don't be so naïve, Boner. Calling Powell a house slave might be a metaphor, but we're talking real banana boats and 8-foot bunches here. My question is, if Powell is such a good guy and a man of the people, why won't he let Belafonte go home? Daylight come already, and I'm sure he's got shit to do."

In a related note of slander, this reporter was severely maligned when showing the first draft of this story around the commune offices.

"It's the worst thing I've ever seen and you're going to get us sued," slandered bookwormish reporter Ramrod Hurley. "And if you leave my name in the story like that, you're going to regret it. I know where you park your car and your desk is unguarded most of the day."

Some of you out there may think it's all fun and games here at the commune, but I assure you it's not. Fun and games were eliminated when I returned months ago, about the same time I implemented the 30% pay reductions and started receiving those death threats in my inbox. But you can't always rule with an iron thumb, as I learned shortly after being arrested for assault with an iron thumb a while back. Sometimes you have to implement diplomacy. This may be one of those times.

I am all for the occasional goofing off, when I am completely unaware of it. I heartily endorse a work environment where everyone is comfortable when I'm not present. However, when my good will is abused like a 14-year-old's johnson, it's no more Mr. Nice Guy, Alice Cooper. Hence I instituted the strict policy that all commune employees, even the meager people, are no longer allowed to host personal websites. This not only goes for time spent at the office, but time away from the commune as well, and probably infringes upon quite a few constitutional rights, not that I'm bragging.

It is necessary, I assure you. I couldn't have cared less about what my staff did in their off hours a few short weeks ago, and lament all that money wasted on expensive digital videotape. Then I discovered the unsettling image of Ted Ted, half-nude, and dressed entirely as a woman. You couldn't see the naughty bits, thanks to his concealing hands and a well-placed teddy bear, but you might as well have scraped my eyes out with a melon baler and saved me the pain. No one here could forget that frightful image, especially since print-outs of it keep winding up on the hallway bulletin board.

My confidence in Ted Ted was shaken until I found out he took the photos early in his career, when a photographer friend of his assured him all reporters got their foot in the door the same way. Word has it he even produced some candid shots of Dan Rather to prove his point, which I won't argue with, since I don't want to see them myself. But Ted Ted promised the photos were quite old and he no longer engaged in such antics and the man who posted them would mysteriously turn up missing by the end of the week. However, this did not end the whole affair. As usual, with my staff, it was only the beginning.

I'm sure it's been the same case with friends you know, one friend is found looking quite attractive in drag in an old picture, then suddenly everyone is claiming they would look better dressed as a woman. If they want to make such claims and argue them over the water cooler, fine. If they want to host a private party where they all dress up just to prove a point, I have no problem with that either. When they start devoting an exorbitant amount of work time and personal finances to hosting websites where they are dressed as women, unbeknownst to site surfers, and ask people to rate their attractiveness in relation to each other, well, that's where I draw the line. Admittedly, my line-drawing was a little late on this occasion.

As I made clear to them yesterday, I will no longer tolerate randomly surfing for poontang and discovering one of my reporters wearing a teddy and garters. This also goes to the columnists and IT associates. Particularly Randy. Your news work is getting sloppy, the broadband out there is being tested, and I am sick of reading letters from lonely prisoners.

It is also a waste of time. It is quite clear Ivan Nacutchacokov is the real honey amongst you. Suck it up and give the queen his crown, fellas.

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