One celebrity endorsement sans water skis

Isn't he cool....

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:-Chairman M.S. Punchenko could fall off the ledge, smashing his face. No one will know who he is, for the only thing identifying him is a belt buckle with the letter P. They'll assume he must be Dolly Parton, and thanks to the miracles of plastic surgery, he'll re-enter the show with big blonde hair and big bazoombas. Everyone, however, will pretend they don't notice and still call him Chairman Meow.

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:-Pinkie could change her hairstyle

Pinkie before changing her hairstyle

Pinkie after changing her hairstyle

Hmmm, I can't decide who is hotter Meow or Pinkie with new hairstyle.
Pinkie could you show some cleavage?

Commisarka Pinkie, I must warn you against making a mistake by marrying Pupovich. He may have endearing qualities, but his hygeine and personal grooming habits are not an example for the People to follow. Besides, his reputation as a poodle-chaser is well known.

I have been in contact with the Dalai Lama regarding a celebrity endorsement. He is most supportive, but tied up right now. Perhaps after the Olympics?

If you want media attention, why not fireworks? My cousin Jin-Jang works in local factory and could hook you up with some truly marvelous bottle rockets and star shells.

I don't dare photoshop Kommissarka's cleavage lest her shovel obtains a permanent impression of Red Square's smug face. Think what's more important - the continuation of our struggle for the advancement of progress - or Kommissarka's cleavage?

But some of the disposable comrades who aren't as valuable to the revolution may give it a shot, perhaps.

Red Square wrote:But some of the disposable comrades who aren't as valuable to the revolution may give it a shot, perhaps.

Not a chance, Dear Leader. There's not enough ammo in the world to save me from the mighty Pinkie Shovel auto-da-fé.

-Mikhail

Red Square wrote:

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:-Chairman M.S. Punchenko could fall off the ledge, smashing his face. No one will know who he is, for the only thing identifying him is a belt buckle with the letter P. They'll assume he must be Dolly Parton, and thanks to the miracles of plastic surgery, he'll re-enter the show with big blonde hair and big bazoombas. Everyone, however, will pretend they don't notice and still call him Chairman Meow.

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:-Pinkie could change her hairstyle

omg look at the man-hands on Dolly ERR the chairman...umm chairperson/thing/it/whathaveyou

Pinkie before changing her hairstyle

Pinkie after changing her hairstyle

Not working nine to five.

Laika the Space Dog wrote:I object!

This must stop!

Dogs, Cats, Appliances, Roadkill, Bryan Hathaway, Mimes!

This must stop for The Common Good™ !

Can't we all get along?

Karakt0r/ off

no, apparently not...you don't really want to get along with these fools any more than any other one of us here, do you?

Karakt0r/ on

OH IT MUST STOP, FOR THE PEOPLE^TM!!! AND THE CHILDREN^TM!!!

Red Square wrote:I don't dare photoshop Kommissarka's cleavage lest her shovel obtains a permanent impression of Red Square's smug face. Think what's more important - the continuation of our struggle for the advancement of progress - or Kommissarka's cleavage?

But some of the disposable comrades who aren't as valuable to the revolution may give it a shot, perhaps.

...or perhaps her cleavage might contain a permanent impression of Pupovich's face...it could happen!

I'm going to stay out of this conversation. I like my face unshoveled.

Did none of you read my original post at the very top? I've done the boob-baring bit--just like Martha Washington and Abigail Adams did--so I fail to see what mere cleavage will accomplish. We're going backwards here.

Which gets me to thinking--haven't any of you seen Braveheart? When are you men going to do your part?

Men? Ha! We aren't men, Commissarka Pinkie! We're... umm... we're... uhh... what are we, Comrades?

We're communists! Everyone knows that communists aren't real men. Would real men be as lazy, uninspired, conniving, greedy, and untrustworthy as us? Of course not.

Not to mention we don't have balls, Betty - except for Her Excellency, of course.

Ahh... of course.

Neither do felines...but we do know how to enjoy the finer benefits of Collective life!


Meanwhile, I have enlisted a few proles to assist us with 24x7 mooning, Commisarka:

Wow, that's a big bottle.

And what sweet kitties! They make me feel caring and compassionate, as warm and fuzzy as they are.

Because they tug at the heart so, we will use them in our $oro$ funded ad campaign ask them on behalf of our brave, patriotic cause to voluntarily donate their cuteness to jumpofftheledgeforpeace.org to help raise awareness of our organization and our ongoing movement against Bush's never-ending atrocities.

Pupovich: Perchance have you puppies?

Which gets me to thinking--haven't any of you seen Braveheart? When are you men going to do your part?

Are you truly willing to escalate to that level? Once you release the MOAB (Mother of All Butts) there is no turning back. Were I to drop trou (or hike kilt) the carnage would be truly devastating. We're talking stampeding hordes seeking escape, widespread temporary blindness, and more hicks getting religion and guns, although not necessarily in that order.

What aboot Meow's dachshunds?

[THUD-THUD]

Done, Commissarka! Our membership 'push' continues until we achieve total condemnation of the cruelty of Bush the Kittykiller. The unfortunate but necessary tactics used by jumpofftheledgeforpeace.org punctuate the urgency of our cause.

I have more expendable enthusiastic volunteers coming to join our push Next Tuesday.

Not to overstep my humble position on the ledge, Comrade Betinov, but I say let 'er rip! The carnage, human misery and panic would be fun to watch from up here, we are bored.

Ivan Betinov wrote:

Which gets me to thinking--haven't any of you seen Braveheart? When are you men going to do your part?

Are you truly willing to escalate to that level? Once you release the MOAB (Mother of All Butts) there is no turning back. Were I to drop trou (or hike kilt) the carnage would be truly devastating. We're talking stampeding hordes seeking escape, widespread temporary blindness, and more hicks getting religion and guns, although not necessarily in that order.

Not to point out the obvious, Betinov, but you don't have a butt. Or do you keep it in a separate jar?

(Something tells me I'm going to regret asking.)

I'm sure comrade jarjar-brain at one time had many other party organs to donate

Not to point out the obvious, Betinov, but you don't have a butt. Or do you keep it in a separate jar?

"Let he who hath no butt break the first wind." That's from the Goran. It is true that my posterior was donated to the Party's posterity, but it is currently stored in a rusty 55-gallon drum in one of the out buildings on the back of the Kennedy compound. It rests in a bath of olive oil (after the Heavy T and his posse drained the alcohol off for the third freakin' time to make Mudslides when they ran out of Kahlua) and retains a supple pliancy. Two lug nuts, a swipe of crack spackle and some duct tape and I can have it ready for deployment.

Eeeewww....

Hmmmmm.....

I love my new AK-108! Spaceeba Ocheen, Mikhail Timofeyevich!!! My apologies for being gone so long. I was thoroughly cleaning this new AK-108 that Comrade Kalashnikov gave me. I have already used up a can of 5.56NATO at the range this weekend. Not to worry! I have a warehouse full of ammo for it. It is always a pleasure to fire one of your creations, Comrade Kalashnikov.

And what a coincidence! Most of The Party's™ Central Committee are sitting on that ledge. I think a "promotion" for me is being discussed!!! Don't you agree comrades????? Say "Yes! Comrade Blokhayev! We agree!".

*khlack* ... *khlack*

Ummmmm... I think the trigger is a little light on this rifle.

--
ZB

Zam, those who hope to be promoted in The Party must first prove themselves worthy through the good works of raising awareness and showing everyone else how much they care.

How many hours have you spent on the street corner lately, passing out pamphlets that promote our cause and holding up signs that denounce Bush and his failed policies?

When was the last time you exposed your private parts in public, not because you couldn't find a bathroom, but because you couldn't think of a more effective way to make a point about the real issues and defend what you believe in?

Have you participated in a march lately? A walk-a-thon? A sit-in? A die-in? A human chain?

How many articles did you copy and paste from other Progressive sites today, Zam, to help expand our presence and inflate our strength in numbers? Or did you spend it playing "Earth Day Bejeweled" online for free?

And why haven't I seen you at one of our jumpofftheledgeforpeace.org meetings, Zam? Huh? Did you know we keep an empty chair at those meetings, just for you? In fact, we always have lots and lots of empty chairs at those meetings, for all the would-be "Beets of the Week" that we know would show up if only they weren't afraid of the Bushgoons that lurk around every corner, waiting to jump and haul away to camps like Gitmo anyone who dares to have the courage to stand up to the tyranny of the Bush Administration--the bloodiest, most oppressive regime in all of world history!

I sure as heck haven't seen you up here on the ledge with the rest of us. Don't you get it, Zam? Look at all of us up here--and little old you down there, all by yourself with your gun. Can't you see through your cross-hairs to the popular consensus we've created? WE ARE FINALLY DOING SOMETHING! And the fact that there are so many more of us up here, than there are of you down there, can mean only one thing--we on the ledge are doing what's right!

While you continue to cling to your gun, and I'll wager your religion, too. What have you done to raise awareness, and show how much you care about the real issues facing us? What have you done?

Anything, Zam?

Anything at all?

I think it's time Pinkie had the actual Beet award to give out instead of just mouthing it...

And while I'm at it, here's my proposal for sleeve design for the first 78 RPM LP of the fab four Beetles:


Red Square Records: more revolutions per minute than any capitalist label!

I propose that there are an equal number of left handers as right handers. That keeps things symmetrical and equal for all.

Don't forget about the guy in the original lineup of the band that got kicked out because he was white:
Everybody always forgets about the "lost beetle" from the days when they were the "Silver Beets"
-Mikhail

How cute! Especially the left-handed one. They can join us on the ledge, record an album up here, and call it "Let It Beet."

They remind me of those five carrots Pupovich once posted on another thread:




[/quote]

And who can forget the classic response you gave to that video?

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:That's very cute, Pupovich, but five of them?!!? I might be a HO, but I'm not a slut.

MIMES FIRST!

Commisarka Pinkie, report to the nearest train station at once, and bring your shovel! Don't you know that a mime is a terrible thing to waste? Or, is that "a mind is a terrible thing"? I forget which. If it's the latter, you may disregard this notice.
Your protest is terrible short sighted, though. The longer Bushitler and the war criminal Cheney are in office, and the longer their murderous rampage against the oppressed (though misguided) followers of that psychotic pedophile from the 7th century, the more proletariat peasants will gravitate to our cause. Only when we attain a critical mass of the masses can we ignore the Constitution and impeach the evil BushCheneyHalliburtonEvilOil cabal because they are big meanies and they think differently than we. Once that happens, we will at last see a glorious world where everyone will receive from the State according to his needs and give to the State according to his abilities, the skies will be filled with rainbows, and little children can fly their kites in parks filled with unicorns and kittens.

Comrade Ogrre, it's the latter, so I'm disregarding your notice.

However, we mean to stay up here on the ledge until:

(a) War criminals Bush and Cheney are impeached and tried for their war crimes, for which they've already been found guilty; OR

(b) May Day, at which point we will come up with something else (I'm open to suggestions, but please--something besides holding up signs and chanting slogans) that's sure to send a strong messsage to our leaders that we're fed up with Bush and Cheney and their illegal, immoral war; OR

(c) Bush nukes Iran before the end of April. We've been told this is certain to happen by a very reliable source--a group of mostly Green Party members and members of lesser known Progressive parties who are candidates for various offices around the country. Rumor has it this group is building a rocket ship out in the Nevada desert, that runs on a railroad track that zooms up a steep rock formation. It's programmed to launch the minute nuclear war between Bush and Iran commences. According to something I heard Al Gore say to Joy Behar on The View, the force of so many nuclear blasts all over the globe will push the rocket ship along the railroad track and up the incline, and from there into outer space, and eventually to another planet, where the Green Party and their friends will establish a new civilization free of war and oil, and dedicated solely to the preservation of the Earth Goddess Gaia.

If you're interested in helping to fund this project, I have a bucket up here on the ledge for collecting cash and--EWWW! WHO PEED IN THIS THING?

Oops. Sorry. I thought that was the honey bucket...

Eeewww....

My fellow comrades, I am so excited by what I just saw over on IFP that I almost did what Margaret did in my donation bucket!

Just one word, comrades, one word: BANNERS!

Why didn't I think of that before? Here we are, all the way up on this high-rise ledge where no one from the ground can see us. We need to hang a big banner from the ledge that says we're here, we care, we demand to be heard, and we want to raise awareness of the need for our leaders to--to take action now!

Or something like that, but we must have a banner. Everyone's doing them now for Memorial Day--banners off bridges and overpasses--and the picture I saw was oh, so impressive! I just love how it was tilted at an angle for visually aesthetic interest (or whatever I mean). I'll bet there was a serious pile-up on the interstate that day, as everyone slammed on the brakes to read that sign on the overpass that shouted IMPEACH!

And I'll bet they blamed the pile-up on Bush!

Oh yes! Imagine people on the street getting cricks in their necks from looking up to read our banner. They'll blame Bush, and that'll be even more people wanting him impeached. We might even convert the whole 19 percent!

What a marvelous idea! Oh, I am just borderline brilliant.

Oh, and while we are at it. can we hang a big banner saying

Hillary Wins! Congratulations on Big Win in Indiana!

Hillary 08!

Socialist Want Impeachment Now Evermore! (SWINE)

Banners? What could wake people up more than a banner! You're right. Nobody seems to get it that there aren't many days left. Apathy! Something like this would get people going. Wake up! Time's a wastin'. The countdown:

It would be even more effective if we had one of those drop down balls, only ours could be a Pelosi stink bomb that goes off if the impeachment is not commenced in time!

You mean like the ball on New Year's Eve in Times Square? Oh, I think we should already have one of those for the day the creep leaves office. We can count down the last minute of the Bush regime as the ball drops just like his approval ratings.

Of course, that's only if he isn't impeached before then. Either way, we can still have a ball to drop sixty seconds before he finally gets ousted!

Cool banner, Margaret! People are getting cricks already and cursing Bush for it! And cursing Bush is the first, very important step toward taking action to raise awareness and show how much we care about this country and how he's totally destroyed it!

Ha! Let's see those neocons stand around now and try to criticize what we're doing!

I was thinking of the ball like Time's Square, but it would drop a little each day and if Bush isn't impeached before he goes, then it explodes with a load of Pelosi gas! If that doesn't get the trial in gear, nothing will.

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:Ha! Let's see those neocons stand around now and try to criticize what we're doing!

Yeah! Those darned neocons.

Hello? Anybody on the ledge?..... Damn slackers.

I'm still here. I was just hiding behind that pillar over there - better cover in case the black helicopters show up.

I'm here! And I've been here since March 24th. Look at me, at how dirty I am, how much weight I've lost, and you know about my legs--why, I look like a Survivor contestant, only without breast implants. I've been doing all the heavy lifting around here, while everyone else is forming their little alliances and waging their vendettas, and generally scheming against me. For the past two months I've eaten nothing but rice and whatever pigeons I can catch up here, and the weather does nothing but rain and blow wind, for hours and hours and hours, it never stops. Listen to me. I even whine like a Survivor contestant.

Let me tell you about some of those vendettas, specifically between Pupovich and Mousey-Tongue. For weeks the two of them did nothing but fight like cats and dogs. Then Mousey disappeared, and we thought he'd fallen off the ledge and was dead; then Bush caused that earthquake in China and we thought it was a conspiracy to eliminate Mousey because of his relationship with a Muslim--i.e., a Persian cat. I was going to get Elton John to sing a reworked version of "Honky Cat" at his funeral, and sell zillions of CD's--then Mousey-Tongue turns up like an actor replacing another on a soap opera, with some story about indigestion and bad pork.

Then we had two Dragos and found out one of them was cloned, so the other--the original, I think--went to get himself re-engineered, I think by Dr. Gno (or someone Dr. Gno plays golf with), and something went horribly wrong with the Halliburton Re-Engineerator, and now he's turned into this huge simian like creature who's storming through the streets, destroying everything in his path, picking up every red-headscarfed woman he sees and tossing her aside like a discarded banana peel once he realizes that's not the red-headscarfed woman he wants, because that woman is ME PINKIE, and I'm way up here on the ledge and guess what? He's climbing up here to get me even as we speak, and when he gets me, he's going to cart me off to an even higher skyscraper, where the wind blows even harder.

Additionally, the Criminally Insane Vodkov has returned from the Sensory Deprivation Program at IFP, and instead of plotting against the Empress as he once did, he's now kowtowing to her, even offering to help her put her pants on; but what's most alarming is that he fancies himself in love with me. How is it that I always attract the jerks?

What else? I couldn't raise enough money to buy that rocket ship because Margaret peed in the money bucket.

I can only think of one thing that will draw everyone's attention to what I'm doing here, and that's if we bring Obama up here. I hear that everywhere he goes now, crowds flock to see him. He's supposed to be in Tampa tomorrow for a rally downtown at high noon, and all one hears on the local news is Obamaobamaobama. They're scrambling for tickets like they're for Wonka's Chocolate Factory (is that racist?) and all the traffic downtown will be tied up and no one attending the rally will have anyplace to park nearby because--can you believe this?--the weekday commuters and workers will have already grabbed all the best parking spaces so they can go to their downtown jobs!

Imagine if we could bring Obama up here to the ledge, after he leaves Tampa and before the Re-Engineered Drago gets me!

And if only . . . Red Square? RED? (Pinkie snaps fingers in front of his face.) GM Chrysler, he's all glazy eyed and not even blinking. Either he's bored by my blather, or he's thinking of Lenin 'n' Thingies again.

Mikhail, why are you aiming your gun at yourself?

Damn, I've been tuning in daily, afraid I'd miss something when I could have waited for Pinkie's summary. Pinkie should have her own column “The Cube Digest” or “The Cube Report”. Then I could become even more apathetic, logging in just once a month to catch up.

I hope you know I have been here as well Commissarka, But I may need to take a break soon. I am red haired and fair skinned, and so I am developing quite a sunburn up here. Alas, I do not tan, and this People's Sunblock with Beet SF25 just is not doing the trick. I suspect some wrecker has put some cheap crap in the tube that does nothing to protect my skin.

Maksim, you should be coming here every day just on general principle. Besides, every time you click, you boost the Alexa ranking of this thread.

(BTW, f**king Rupert Murdock-owned Google is trying to censor my thread by freezing the number of views at 5631--refresh the page and you'll see.)

Pupovich, you have fur to protect you--or did you shave it all off at the same time I stopped shaving my legs?

Let me see that tube you have--no wonder, you were reading it upside down! This is The People's Hemorrhoidal Ointment. "May also be used as personal lubricant in conjunction with the Hildo-Hydra."

The fur does help, but it is not a complete protection. And especially in the facial area where the fur is thin.

For the love of Lenin, will you comrades up on the ledge PLEASE SIT STILL!!! It is difficult to get a perfectly aimed round off with my new CZ 750 sniper rifle with an ATN 16x65Z scope!!!

Ooohh... pretty. I wish I had one of those... wait, why are you trying to shoot us? If Kalifornia hadn't outlawed this before I could get one, you would be in trouble! (Bigger is better)

COMRADES! This is not the Progressive way!

I have Kalashnikov up here on the ledge with his arsenal, and Zampolit down below with that . . . that thing.

Is this how our Perch-In For Peace is supposed to end, Comrades? With a good old-fashioned Wild West-style shootout?

We were supposed to jump off the ledge for peace, should our leaders have failed to get our strong message that we want them to pass an immediate resolution demanding immediate action on immediate impeachment and immediate, total troop withdrawal, right fricking now or we're going to kick them out in November! We weren't supposed to use guns to send that message. What are we, Republicans?

Comrades, you can throw fake blood at each other. You can even throw real blood at each other.

You can pee on one another. (Isn't that where "pissing contest" comes from? I'm a gurl, I only know about yanking pigtails and snapping bra backs.)

You can even use baseball bats and balls, as long as it isn't dodgeball.

You can duel it out like gentlemen by getting behind the wheels of your cars and playing chicken.

You can simulate waterboarding each other, or simulate any other kind of torture you like, as long as it's a torture method approved by the Bush Administration.

You may do whatever it takes to get your message across, AS LONG AS YOU DON'T USE GUNS!

Don't either of you have any idea how dangerous guns are? How could you possibly live with yourself if Lenin forbid you shot an innocent Koran?!?

Too late....

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Commissarka Pinkie wrote:We were supposed to jump off the ledge for peace,....

Now wait just a Leningrad minute here Commissarka! I thought the plan was to have proles leap from the ledge since we who are more equal are needed to organize the volunteer for the LAND (low altitude no deployment) jumps?

As for me, I with Comrade Blokhayev completely...

A revolution without firing squads is meaningless.
Stalin

Indeed!!! And what a perfect opportunity to get in a little "trigger time"!


--

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:COMRADES! This is not the Progressive way!

I have Kalashnikov up here on the ledge with his arsenal, and Zampolit down below with that . . . that thing.

Is this how our Perch-In For Peace is supposed to end, Comrades? With a good old-fashioned Wild West-style shootout?

We were supposed to jump off the ledge for peace, should our leaders have failed to get our strong message that we want them to pass an immediate resolution demanding immediate action on immediate impeachment and immediate, total troop withdrawal, right fricking now or we're going to kick them out in November! We weren't supposed to use guns to send that message. What are we, Republicans?

Comrades, you can throw fake blood at each other. You can even throw real blood at each other.

You can pee on one another. (Isn't that where "pissing contest" comes from? I'm a gurl, I only know about yanking pigtails and snapping bra backs.)

You can even use baseball bats and balls, as long as it isn't dodgeball.

You can duel it out like gentlemen by getting behind the wheels of your cars and playing chicken.

You can simulate waterboarding each other, or simulate any other kind of torture you like, as long as it's a torture method approved by the Bush Administration.

You may do whatever it takes to get your message across, AS LONG AS YOU DON'T USE GUNS!

Don't either of you have any idea how dangerous guns are? How could you possibly live with yourself if Lenin forbid you shot an innocent Koran?!?

no such thing exists

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:COMRADES! This is not the Progressive way!

I have Kalashnikov up here on the ledge with his arsenal, and Zampolit down below with that . . . that thing.

Is this how our Perch-In For Peace is supposed to end, Comrades? With a good old-fashioned Wild West-style shootout?

We were supposed to jump off the ledge for peace, should our leaders have failed to get our strong message that we want them to pass an immediate resolution demanding immediate action on immediate impeachment and immediate, total troop withdrawal, right fricking now or we're going to kick them out in November! We weren't supposed to use guns to send that message. What are we, Republicans?

Comrades, you can throw fake blood at each other. You can even throw real blood at each other.

You can pee on one another. (Isn't that where "pissing contest" comes from? I'm a gurl, I only know about yanking pigtails and snapping bra backs.)

You can even use baseball bats and balls, as long as it isn't dodgeball.

You can duel it out like gentlemen by getting behind the wheels of your cars and playing chicken.

You can simulate waterboarding each other, or simulate any other kind of torture you like, as long as it's a torture method approved by the Bush Administration.

You may do whatever it takes to get your message across, AS LONG AS YOU DON'T USE GUNS!

Don't either of you have any idea how dangerous guns are? How could you possibly live with yourself if Lenin forbid you shot an innocent Koran?!?

Why are you all squirmy up there, Commissarka?


--

Premier Betty wrote:Too late....

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thank God these are legal in Texas...fuckin' getsum!!!!

Legal... in... Texas...?

[begins packing bags as fast as humanly possible]

Pinkie's Diary: Day 62 on the Ledge for Peace

I'm all out of food and vodka. I haven't bathed or shaved my legs in over 8 weeks. I'm blistered from the sun. I haven't seen the press up here in days, because they're busily slobbering after the Obamessiah.

It's past May Day, Bush still hasn't been impeached, and our troops aren't any closer to coming home from his illegal, immoral war. We tried hanging banners for this Memorial Day weekend, but all they've done is give people on the ground cricks in their necks. Now all those people have been arrested and taken away for mocking and mimicking the pose in Obamessiah's portraits, which of course is racist and therefore a hate crime.

Meanwhile, bullets are zinging and pinging all around me. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I don't want to jump. I can't jump. My mission was to send a strong message to our leaders, to raise awareness and show how much I care by getting others to jump off the ledge for peace. I simply care too much about the important issues facing our country to sacrifice myself like some meaningless prole.

Plus, I'm afraid of the pain if I fall. To quote Daffy Duck, I'm not like other people, in that I can't stand pain, because it hurts me.

And of course, it's all Bush's fault that--

OHH, I'M HIT!!!!!

AAAGGHH!!!!! NO! NOT OFF THE LEDGE!!!! AAGGHHH---

Oh my Lenin! Someone help me! Save me!!!! I've fallen halfway down the building, and my headscarf has caught on--of all things--a horizontal flagpole! Now I'm just hanging here by my trusty red headscarf, arms and legs flailing, but worst of all, I'm all tangled up--wrapped up, if you will--in the AMERICAN FLAG!!!!

Sweet merciful Stalin! A pistol! Someone hand me a pistol! What? They're illegal!? Dammit, man! An innocent Comrade is wrapped in the American flag! SHE IS SUFFERING, DAMMIT! Damn! Everyone just grab a rock and try your best to throw it at her. I know! I know! We are progressives and have all flunked out of gym class. I know this, dammit! But we must try, Comrades! We must try to put her out of her misery!

What is that? Is that a duck? It is! It is! Go get the duck! Running quickly down the stairs I leap out the window, grab the duck by the scruff ot it's neck. Dear Lenin! This is the biggest duck I have ever seen! Stinks to high heaven though, Grunt grunt.... Damn it! Who the Hillary is that shooting at us? Great Stalin's Ghost! It is the Chairman! He is loaded.... er,,,, re-loading! Faster! Steadiy pull....thump! Alright! Let's take a close look at my prize.... Wait a minute,,,,what is this? This isn't a duck! I have known ducks, and you are not a duck! What the Hillary are you doing down off the ledge Commissarka?

Comrades, I.... I....My jacket feels moist, damp, warm..... What the Hillary? What is this dripping? I am getting weak...Pain.... pain like I haven't felt since I was but a wee pup. What is this? Blood? Lenin in Moscow! I was hit! The Chairman's shot hit me by mistake! Help! Someone find me some medical help! Wait...ah, thank Stalin the jacket was mostly wet from the vodka bottle that broke.... But there is a blood trickle! It looks to be just a flesh wound.... but it is MY FLESH damn it! And I just had my jacket dry cleaned! Look at the hole it made in my jacket! Were it not for the copy of Das Kapital I always keep in my back pocket, this could have been fatat! Oh, I am getting dizzy....I may have to lay down for a minute,,,, perhaps take some time off. The important thing is that Commissarka Pinike is alright!

Chairman! I am not angry, I know you were doing what you thought was best For the Children™.

Commissar Pupovich wrote:ah, thank Stalin the jacket was mostly wet from the vodka bottle that broke....

That's VODKA!?? No, for the love of Lenin, tell me it isn't so! The waste, oh, the dreadful waste! I can't see because of this fricking American flag wrapped around me, but I was really, really hoping all that wet stuff I felt dripping off of me was blood!

Were it not for the copy of Das Kapital I always keep in my back pocket, this could have been fatat!

Well, let us be grateful it was a copy of Das Kapital, and not The Koran.

The important thing is that Commissarka Pinike is alright!

Says you, Puppy. This flagpole can't hold us both. Already it's bending downward. . . oh, someone save us! Or at least save me! I'm too important to die!

Commissarka! Thank Lenin you weren't hit, you are just hysterical. I pulled you inside the building to safety, But I am losing blood! OK, it's not a lot of blood, but it's still my blood, and it's staining the carpet. But we can't stay here. The Chairman still has a gun. Wait a minute, I have an idea. (Commissar Pupovich quickly wrap cabbage with American flag, and using Pinkie's shovel. slides it out onto the flagpole.) OK Commissarka, that should hold the Chairman's attention for a minute. Which way do you want to go? To the People's Pup for a drink, or back to the ledge?Dear Stalin's mother! That still hurts! Can you do something about this injury of mine? I can't quite reach it!

What's going on?!? Can you people keep it down? It's hard enough to shoot this thing as it is, but with all your whining and complaining it's making it even worse! I just took down that news chopper that was beginning to hover above us because of you guys thrashing around leaking your squishy human fluids all over the place. Can't you please do that somewhere else?

Pupovich, you dunderhead! That's not a cabbage--that's ME! You just pushed me back out onto the flagpole again!

And I can't see your injury, much less reach it, because now you have the American flag wrapped around my head! I look as if I'm wearing a red, white and blue star-studded, striped burqa. No doubt that's what the Republicans want to see on all women. Obviously this is the work of the VRWC, of which YOU are a part!

And that better be your wagging tail that keeps slapping against my backside.

Mother of Lenin! Some comrades refuse help! I have been shot by the Chairman trying to save you, and you insist on going back out on a flag pole. Well Commissarka, you are out there on your own this time. If you think I am going to take another one from the Chairman for some grandstanding of yours, trying to put your needs over those of the Children, then you have another beet coming.

Me, I am going back to my dacha and take a vodka soak to sanitize the wound I suffered trying to help you Commissarka.

Chairman.....don't forget to put the safety on when you are loading.

Pupovich, I'll remember this next purge season! Tell me again you aren't in cahoots with Vodkov.

All this senseless gun violence! This is why guns should be banned! If I ever get out of this, I'm going to hunt down every single last one of you and beat the tar out of you with my shovel!

And I'm not refusing help! I want help! I need help! This flagpole's about to snap and break!

I need a safety net!!!!

DAMMIT, WHERE'S THE GOVERNMENT?!?

What else can you ask? I pulled you off that flag pole once, got shot in the process, then you go crawl out there again? No, I think I see the real cause.... You wanted to find a last name to go with Commissarka Pinkie _________. and so you are wanting to see who comes to your rescue.... whose name is not Pupovich.

Now if you REALLY want help, I will venture out just one more time, and pull you in, but you have to ask me, and mean it.

For the last time, I did not crawl back out on the flagpole--you mistook me for a cabbage!

And I'm not looking for a last name. I'm only trying to keep track of who the love of my life is right now. I've been on the ledge so long, I've forgotten. If I can get out of this, I'll just find someone new.

Besides, I neither want nor need a last name. Think of all the great women role models out there who go only by their first names: Cher . . . Madonna . . . Hillary. Surely "Pinkie" belongs in such a noble pantheon? Certainly I'm the sort of woman young girls should wish to emulate? Dammit, I have such an urge to scratch, and I have to pee so bad that--what was I saying? Oh yeah. Aren't I the sort of Progressive female the younger ones should look up to? Speaking of which, my skirt is caught on the pole and everyone down below can see my thong. I only hope they think I'm Lenin 'n' Thingies.

Yes, Pupovich, please help me! The flagpole is about to snap! I promise (excuse me while I cross my legs at the ankles. It's only because the gawkers down below are peering up my skirt.) But I swear if you rescue me, I will pledge to you my total allegiance--I'll have that treacherous cat Mousey-Tongue twisted into a pretzel and served up to George W. Bush, and here's hoping Bush chokes on him!

OK, I will take your word for it. But first I have to take some precautions, after all, the Chairman is still out there. (Taking a wallet, I place a wad of Pravda between 2 ten dollar bills. I then attach the wallet to a 200 pound test fishing line and tie it tightly. As added insurance, I place a genuine People's Cube on top of my tin foil hat, in the hope that even in his inebriated state, the Chairman will not shoot a Cube should the distraction not work.)

Now Commissarka, I think I am ready. Let's make this quick.

Leaning out the window, I cast the wallet high over the Chairman's head while he is busy "adjusting" a toaster up on the ledge with him.

"Chairman! Behind you.... I see a dime! Ooooo! And next to it there looks to be a wallet!"

Quickly, I ease out on the flagpole. Chomp! Grabbing Pinkie firmly in my massive jaws, I pull her toward the window. Damn, I have her almost all the way in the window, but can't get you quite in.

Bang!
'
Dear Lenin, the Chairman's shooting again!

Pinkie! Unlock your legs!

Jeeez,,, what's a Commissar to do? Oh, I know. Reaching further into my bag of tricks, I pull out a picture of a half naked, sweat shined, collective farmhand with a tattoo saying "Live to Hate Bush, Hate Bush to Live." Pinkie's swoons and ah's as her legs loosen up.

Plop!

At last! Pinkie! You are safe now!

Now let's see how I did.

Quickly making my way back to my rod and reel, I start reeling in my wallet bait. Oh what a fight the Chairman is putting up! Finally, it breaks free and.... damn it! I lost half my bait!

Pupovich! My hero! I don't know how I'm ever going to explain these teeth marks to my male oppressor, but I'm yours forever. Now what happened to that picture you showed me? I don't know who that guy is, but I just know he's sweet and sensitive, and like, totally understands me!

Oh, there's the picture! It's fluttering outside the window! Pupovich, we have to go back out on the flagpole and get it! I need his name! He's the man for me!

At least tell me who he is!

Here is but a taste Commissarka!

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Now as for me, if you don't mind, I need to be seen by a specialist for that gunshot wound I suffered from the Chairman. This quack doctor here said all I needed was some Bacitracin and a Band-Aid! Unbelievable the status of our current health care system! Why, were it not for the vodka and pain killers I am taking now for the pain, I would not have made it this far. I need speciaists!! Vodka sitz baths, some plastic surgery!

Steroids anyone?

Not steroids Premier. It is his pure Bush hatred that built those muscles. Any man who expresses his hatred by tattooing "Hate Bush to Live... Live to Hate Bush" on his arms, can share vodka and beets with me any day. Where's your tattoo Premier?

I'd show you MY tattoo, Pup, if it weren't for that damn restraining order.