efugees from the New Orleans disaster were thrilled this week by the news that Mayor Ray Nagin plans to re-open large parts of the city as early as today, allowing the many refugees spread across the American South like spilled milk to finally return home. The decision to return, however, is not so easy for the small number of lucky refugees who were relocated to the French Quarter section of the Disneyland theme park in Anaheim, California during the first days of flooding.

“This is great, it’s like being back home, except Disneyer!� gushed socialite Anita Bomes, thrilled with her new New Orleans, a quaint miniature version of the city located near a fake lake that, to date, has never flooded.

Others have not been so happy with their new home, claiming the $20 in Goofy Bucks they were given for food and lodging upon arrival does not go far in Disneyland’s helium-inflated economy, where food prices and housing expenses can bear little resemblance to the outside world.

“How are we supposed to live here?� questioned refugee Alanis DuPree. “A storage locker here costs more than my apartment back home did. And I can only fit my head in that locker. That makes for some mighty uncomfortable sleepin’.�

Others have found creative solutions to the problem, like Ethan Fromme, who now lives inside the popular Pirates of the Caribbean ride.

“Aside from the whole town being on fake fire all the time, this isn’t half bad,� explained Ethan. “Sure, there’s still lots of water everywhere like back home and the whole place smells like the pool down at the Y, but on the upside none of the lifeless bodies here carry cholera.�

Ethan also enjoys the attention of having scores of children in boats gawking at his lifelike appearance as he sits and drinks beer in front of his house façade.

In a televised national address Thursday night, President Bush promised additional aid for New Orleans refugees who have been frightened by the Haunted Mansion ride and who could desperately use a frozen banana covered in chocolate. Bush also surprised many by taking full responsibility for the federal government’s failure to properly address the New Orleans situation in the early days of the disaster. Bush’s remarks were in stark contrast to his reaction when first hearing about the disaster weeks before, when the startled president blurted out “Fuck this!� and ducked into a secret tunnel hidden in the Oval Office sideboards.

After the president’s speech, everyone even vaguely related to the tragedy rushed to take full responsibility as well, with Louisiana Gov. Kathleen Blanco taking full responsibility Thursday night, former FEMA head Michael Brown taking full responsibility after being ridden out of town on a rail Friday, and New Orleans homeless man Roger Dunkin taking full responsibility for the disaster on Saturday afternoon.

Louisiana residents are waiting with baited breath to hear if reclusive author J.D. Salinger will come out of hiding to take full responsibility some time in the next week.

Meanwhile, in Anaheim, refugees are wary of rumors that they may be relocated yet again to Frontierland if the New Orleans Square area’s shortage of caramel corn is not soon remedied.

“I’d rather die than live in Frontierland,� explained Ninth Ward refugee Darnell Hughes, wearing a humorous Donald Duck baseball cap. “If they move us over there I’m just gonna walk back. I’m serious, I don’t care how far it is,� boasted Hughes of the two-block walk separating Frontierland from Disneyland’s New Orleans Square.

Although many N.O. refugees arrived at Disneyland with little more than the shirts on their backs, most have since loaded up on Disney souvenirs dwarfing their previous collections of personal effects.

“We don’t have any way to carry all this stuff,� complained Ted Mooney, gesturing toward the generous heap of Disneyland merchandise he and his wife have had to rent two baby strollers to carry. “Now my wife wants one of those Goofy hats with the long ears. How are we going to carry that? Tell me, President Bush, where are we supposed to fit that?�

Others have grown disenchanted with New Orleans Square since local retailer La Boutique de Noel ran out of Disney-themed Christmas ornaments earlier in the week.

“I’m not going back,� explained a proud Chandra Miller of Bywater. “We’ve made a new life for ourselves here in Toontown. Why would we want to go back? Sure, maybe to visit, and ride Pirates. But live there? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice… You know how the rest of that goes.�

isaster-relief officials in New Orleans made a stern announcement today to the thousands of celebrities descending upon the devastated city in hopes of providing humanitarian aid in exchange for career-boosting photo ops: We’re serious; you really need to leave now.

“We’ve got to get these fucking celebrities out of New Orleans,� sighed an exasperated Lt. Mark Bolio of the Army’s 92nd Airborne. “They’re drinking up all our bottled water and bitching about the catering all day.�

The influx of famous faces has weighed as a heavy burden on officials who have spent the last week scrambling to get everyone out of the city-shaped deathtrap. Receding water levels have exposed a nightmare world of toxic contamination, with nearly the entire city soaking in deadly levels of E. coli bacteria, lead, crude oil, PCBs, asbestos, leptospirosis, battery acid, herbicides, raw sewage, DDT, snakes, and according to at least one local, cooties. After busting a nut trying to remove the bulk of New Orleans’ stubbornly entrenched locals, many of whom refused to leave their pets or belongings, the Army was not prepared to deal with the celebrity occupation.

“We had this one crazy old lady who wouldn’t leave without her million cats, so we had to drown all her cats in the back yard,� anecdotalized Pvt. Jeremy Pankin, animal lover. “I mean, that is, all her cats drown in the back yard. Yeah.�

According to officials, 95% of the people now remaining in New Orleans qualify as celebrities, with the jury still out on John Stamos and a few others. Most are reportedly taking turns rescuing each other from various perilous locations around the sunken city.

“Thassa haw nyaom flawn dawg,� drawled local plumber Cornell Hughes, possibly speaking about the celebrity situation in New Orleans. “Shaw golla farn myaw.�

Oscar-winning actor Sean Penn, 45, has drawn the most attention after arriving last week with his entourage in a boat that immediately sank, despite frantic efforts at beer-cup bailing. Reports are unclear as to whether Penn was here to help the locals, or if he was rehearsing for his role in an upcoming Woody Allen comedy.

“When you see people in trouble on TV, as a celebrity you can’t just stand idly by,� explained singer Harry Connick Jr., who like every other jazz musician, claims to be from New Orleans. “That’s why I’ve been here for the last few days, walking around and telling people I’m Harry Connick Jr.�

Other celebrities either rescued or ejected from the city by the National Guard this week include Fab Morvan, formerly of Milli Vanilli, rapper Flavor Flav, the Dixie Chicks, Leonard Nimoy, radio personality Dr. Phil, the Oak Ridge Boys, Paul Reubens, Sista Souljah, writer Stephen King, the entire Mormon Tabernacle Choir, tennis pro Ivan Lendl, Sting, actor Mickey Rourke, and three members of the alt-fluff quartet the Cardigans.

R&B singer Macy Gray wisely decided to give the highly toxic and in all likelihood instantly carcinogenic city a wide berth, instead volunteering to hand out t-shirts and condoms to refugees at the Astrodome in Houston.

“You kiddin’ me?� questioned Gray when asked about her decision. “That place is like the Chernobyl Water Park. I wouldn’t even drive past that state with the windows down. I already got curly hair, you know?�

Meanwhile, Fox crews have been on hand in New Orleans all week to film a new reality show based on the celebrities’ and locals’ exciting efforts to sneak back into the watery grave that used to be their city. According to network officials, I Forgot Something! will premiere on Fox later this fall.

My first month of retirement has been a rough one. Since I'm all out of acting jobs, I've had to go looking for a new source of steady income. I mean, I still get my commune pay, but that's about as steady as the San Franciscan fault lines. And about as big as the straight population of that city.

Have you ever had to get a job before? Man, they suck. People tell you what to do and expect you to get it done or they'll fire you. If you ask them about your motivation they'll tell you to do it or you'll get fired. No subtext work at all, these guys. And very few of them cater worth a shit either. I tell you, this is the 21st century. How am I supposed to watch the register without a break when I haven't had any rye bread and pimento-less olive snacks in more than twenty minutes? Not a good way to keep your employees happy.

So in the three weeks since I announced my retirement, I've gotten jobs at Pizza Hut, K-Mart, Home Depot, Uncle Macho's Family-Style Restaurant, Target, and Bed, Bath & Beyond. I've also gotten fired from Pizza Hut, K-Mart, Home Depot, Uncle Macho's Family-Style Restaurant, Target, and Bed, Bath & Beyond. If nothing else, I'm a completist, right?

All my jobs go through the same life cycle—I get hired, things are okay for a while, and then I'm fired for no reason at all. Right now I'm working for Ms. Diffy's Jewelry, and I'm in that middle "everything's cool" phase. I'll probably get fired by tomorrow or the day after. Wednesday, if I play my cards right.

It's not as great as you'd think, working in a jewelry store. They make you sell things to people. Customers act like complete dicks and you can't tell them they can't shop there anymore. Which I don't understand, because when I'm on the other side of the counter, that's what I usually get. At least I'll know how things really work the next time some smart-ass employee tells me that bullshit.

I've never met Ms. Diffy. I guess she lives on some ranch somewhere in Arkansas, or wherever diamond magnates live. South Africa maybe. Ms. Diffy's second in command is Julie, the shift supervisor. I've been trying to get Ms. Diffy on the phone all week to let her know Julie is a real bitch who hires all her friends and treats everybody like shit, but the secretary I get on the phone at the head office keeps trying to tell me Ms. Diffy is only a corporate icon and doesn't really exist. I've heard some lame excuses to get out of showing up to work, but that takes the cake. I should probably call in sick sometime to Bagel and tell him I never existed, I'm only a corporate entity designed to sell the commune. He'd probably buy it, if you catch him early enough.

Oh, here's some more bullshit from the world of retail jewelry: Did you know you can't wear the stuff out, like, even if you have important shit going on later? You could've knocked me over with a fart when they told me that. I tried all the angles, too, like telling them it was good for the business, free advertising or whatever. I told them my doctor said I had a condition where I had to wear two pounds of diamonds or I get sick. Nothing. They knew it was all bullshit. At least the people at Uncle Macho's were more gullible, and let me wear all the chicken wings I could carry.

I'm not desperate enough to go back to acting or anything. Shit, I hope I'll never be that desperate. But I am almost ready for some major alternatives to working. Like going for a college business degree.

º Last Column: The End of an Error
º more columns