ormer heavyweight champion Carl "The Truth" Williams visited the Bush White House recently, at the invitation of Secretary of State Colin Powell, and no one there seemed to have a clue as to who he actually was. "The Truth" got the grand tour, meeting with the president, the vice president and many members of their respective staffs, yet all expressed puzzlement as to who he might really be or why he was there.

White House spokesman Ari Fleischer said "The Truth" looked very much a like "a guy I once hired to put up some sheet rock in my basement, and a couple times we would go off into the little closet down there to smoke crack and give each other handjobs, but other than that, I can't place him."

The president himself was similarly disinclined to speculate on the identity of his guest. "How the hell should I know?" he asked. "All them fellas look alike to me. He's not the guy who delivers the pretzels, is he? Because if he is, I got a few words of ornerification for him."

Vice president Dick Cheney, when asked if he recognized "The Truth," responded by saying that it was possible that he did, but that it would endanger national security and the ability of future vice presidents to effectively do their job if he admitted it. He went on to say that if "The Truth" were to accompany him to an undisclosed location, perhaps they could discuss the matter further by the side of a warm fireplace full of shredded documents.

Mary Matalin, Cheney's spokesperson, came closest to recognizing "The Truth" when she admitted that, "after studying him closely, he does look very much like that guy that fisted me and my serpentine husband up the ass without Vaseline one afternoon last November, but I can't be positive without James here."

Mr. Williams said that, despite the lack of recognition, he very much enjoyed his tour of the First Residence. "Muthafuckahs be livin' large here, y'all!" he was quoted as saying when the Secret Service escorted him out by way of the South Lawn. "Word, dawg, place be almost as happenin' as George Foreman's crib. Sheee-it."

oosted by good numbers at the box office and positive reviews from film critics and the Bush administration, the White House and Congress have already begun planning a sequel to the hit film Black Hawk Down.

"The characters, the firefights, everything was so realistic," said President Bush, after a screening at the White House. "The only thing was I wanted to see a clearer victory for American soldiers. I'm sure audiences felt the same way. And by gum, I love to give the American people what they want."

Black Hawk Down is based on factual events experienced by troops in Mogadishu, Somalia in 1993. A spiral of events following a botched military operation and the loss of a MH-60 Black Hawk helicopter led to the death of 18 American soldiers in battle against groups of armed Somalis. The incident was a major setback for the Clinton administration and led to weakening public approval for the operation in Somalia.

Now, however, the Bush administration is highly driven by the powerful Ridley Scott film to put a happy ending on the story.

"It'll be ten years since the first movie happened next year," said president Bush, "and I say that's a great ol' time for a return to Somalia. We can call it Black Hawk Down 2: No Surrender. Ain't that somethin'?"

Trent Lott, Majority Leader of the Senate and fellow fan of Black Hawk Down, agreed. "Bill Clinton can't write a great war movie, I'll tell you that much. A sex and intrigue film starring Michael Douglas, I'll give him that one—let him work on Basic Instinct 2. But with a Republican in office, now's the time for a big fat winning sequel to Black Hawk Down. And this time it won't be so depressing!"

Bush has reportedly been trying to round up the original soldiers from the 1993 Somalia incident, but since few of them are still in the military, he isn't optimistic about the same characters returning for victory.

"More than likely it'll be all new guys," said Bush, drawing up plans to ship spare soldiers from Pakistan and Afghanistan to Somalia as soon as possible, "but we're going to do it right this time. Big, photogenic guys that look like Sylvester Stallone or Bruce Willis or something. And of course a wizened old general that could be played perfectly by Chuck Heston. Ooh! I could even play myself maybe in the movie going to support all the troops and all that."

Though Mohamed Farrah Aidid died in 1996, the Bush administration is optimistic another villain, perhaps even more dastardly, has taken his place. According to reports from the long-troubled Somalia, the situation could not be better for increasing military presence.

Before the release of the much-anticipated sequel, Bush is hoping to finish the current project he's working on in Afghanistan, which will hopefully make it to the silver screen later

You homos sure are convincing. Well, you can lay off with the grand descriptions of homo lifestyle, because I'm once again one of you!

Well, not a homeowner, if that's the specific meaning of "homo." But a home-liver, on the insider, a deep-inside homo. And it's all thanks to my new friends, the Russians.

Not all the Russians, mind you, but one Russian. You know me, good people, knowing one is like knowing all of them. Sure, I was instantly distrustful of her when I heard that thick Russkie accent, but when I saw her face, I was a daydream believer, just like the Brass Monkeys say. It was a little odd how I heard her voice before I saw her face, but that's one of the things you have to acclimate to when you live on the street and sleep under last week's Wall Street Journal, which I might note was covered in what smelled like human urine. There was a dry copy of the Village Voice nearby, but I hadn't lost that much dignity yet, good people.

Yes, Felchyana's face has the beauty and charm of a bookie. And if you don't think that's a compliment, you've never dealt with the gorgeous female bookies I have, friends. She is a beauty like that in a Renoir painting. Or Michelangelo. Which one had the chubby women completely buck naked? I suppose they all did. She's beautiful like those women, but all bones, no meat. I'm sure a few good meals will take care of that.

I discovered I had been sleeping outside her building in the alleyway for quite a few days. I was not my normal self after days of merciless living, which is to say my unsettling and disturbing visage wasn't even washed and shaven when she found me huddling up to a cold dumpster for warmth, which it refused to provide. Did she scream? Did she recoil in horror? Yes, understandably so. But she did come back, trying to hide her fear and disgust, and offered me a cup of warm soup.

Boy, that soup was the balm, as the hipsters say. Chicken noodle soup. I normally don't like noodles of chickens, preferring the established parts like wings and chestal regions. Living on the street will lower your standards significantly, as they say. This does not mean I'm taking their advice to have sex for money, especially not from three guys who can't even find one girl for an orgy, but "they" are a whole other story. You meet a new class of people when you have no house.

To make this story less ingratiatingly long, Felchyana shared her soup and opened her home to me. When she found out I had a job, she asked what the commune was. When I told her, she said it should be burnt and sent to hell. But she likes me so much and recognizes the hard-working industrial nature of Rok Finger and said she would allow me to stay in her home while I get back on my feet. I'm not sure how I like the sound of that last part, I'm really start to like traveling by skateboard. But I suppose we all make concessions when we're down and out.

Don't tell anybody, but I'm quite smitten with Felchyana as a woman, too, as well as a homo. She is pretty as the sun, but doesn't hurt my eyes in the same way. Her smile is like a flower blooming, her spit like pollen, or some kind of spitting lizard. She is sweet like the nectar of a gay metaphor. I wouldn't kick her out from under a newspaper for eating crackers, I'll say that much. Perhaps it is best to leave it at that, since she has said something about being married. Alas, it is not to be, but what isn't to be that actually is? Not much, I can tell you.

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