Nola in the Nude: A Testament to John

CUT TO EVERGREEN CHAPEL:

Reverend Lowery: (uncomfortable chuckling) Well isn’t that silly, West Side Story. Let’s all turn those bibles to page 621 and begin in John. (Flipping through his bible nervously, sweat dripping down his forehead. He takes out a handkerchief with the words God Wipes the Brow of the Weary embroidered on it, he puts it to his forehead and wipes the sweat) Never did go wrong in John, is what they say. Yes, here we are. John 1, verse 1. He looks down at his page:

Reverend Lowery: Oh, the lord is testing me today. (Smiles and looks up at congregation) Can I get an Amen?
Congregation (which is down to two women) : Gaymen!
Reverend Lowery: That’s odd. It (pause) sounds, (pause) yes it did, it sounded like you just said Gaymen.
Congregation: Gaymen.
(Reverend Looks up. Looks down at his bible)

CUT TO SOMEWHERE IN THE NEW TESTAMENT:

Voice from the sky: NOLA!
Nola: (skipping) what’s up now?
Obama: How can you have possibly written a testament? You’re still there!
Nola: I’m paying John to write it for me.
Obama: Back to Bethlehem! Wait for the Secret Ser-
Nola: -Servants. I’m on it O.
Obama: Service. Secret Service Nola.
Nola skips up to a sign:

(If she had bothered to translate, she would have known that she was in fact, in Jerusalem. She skips over to a group of men standing outside of a building)
Nola: Servants! Got it. Alright, I see them. Gotta go. (Shuts her Bible for Dummies and runs over to the Secret Servants, whom are camped outside a room) Hello help, how are ya? (Waves ferociously) I’m starved. Quick chowtime then its back to the black house. Got it?
Secret Servant, oops, Service Agent: (stares silently)
Nola: This place looks good. (Over her shoulder) love, love, love the robes.

A host seats Nola and her agents at a long table. As Nola looks to her left she notices a man washing the foot of another. She jumps up, runs over to the chair, knocks the man over and puts her feet in the tub.

Nola: Pedis! (To man washing her feet, in perfect Korean) 짧은 못. 어리석은 매력 없음. 명확한 광택. 그것 뿐이다! 그것을 얻는? 당신이 듣지 않는 경우에, 나는 나의 서투르게 수선한 매니큐어를 한 못으로 당신의 눈을 말소하기 위하여 려고 하고 있다.
Jesus: (looking up from her feet) Nola?
Nola: (looks down from her Fortune magazine) Jesus? What in a whore’s abortion are you doing in a nail salon? Wait! What am I doing in a nail salon, that serves food? Gross!
(Jesus grabs Nola by the neck and walks her outside.)
Nola: Re-leeeeeeease meh Jesus! Reeeeee-lease meh from your evil grip! Put me down you wretch! (Kicking and spitting)
Jesus: You have caused far too much trouble for me. I’m trying to enjoy a nice meal with my friends. You will stay out here until the Secret Service arrives to escort you back to the White House. White House, Nola, not the Black House, we’ve spoken about this issue. The service has been alerted to your whereabouts. You are in Jerusalem, not Bethlehem. Stay put.
Nola: (Stops struggling) wait a minute. O? Is that you? Hahahahaahhaha. God dammit. Hahahahahhahahahhahahha. (Looks at the sky) You got me! You son of an African!
Obama: (From the sky, chuckling) my sweet Nola, you aren’t the only one who can tamper with the good book. (Obama, as Jesus, sets Nola down and walks back into the restaurant) Please, Nola, for the sake of society, stops tampering with the bible. Stay there. Don’t make a move. (Nola starts shaking her ass) I can see that, Nola. Please, this is serious. Stay put until the Secret Service arrive.
Nola: (Gives a hail Hitler salute) Yes, comrade! (Nola sits down on a mule tied up outside the restaurant and pulls out her Iphone.)
(Jesus, Simon and Peter slip out a side exit to the restaurant. Nola sees them and follows.)
Nola: Fishers of men!
(Jesus puts his hand on Simon’s shoulder and whispers into his ear.)
Jesus: The cock shall not crow, till thou hast denied me thrice. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. In my father’s house are many mansions.
Nola: Jesus is going to rape Simon at his father’s house! (To John) Write that down. (To herself) So Jesus is gay, and he’s going to rape people. Well, not on my watch. But which father’s house? (Guards walk towards Nola and she speaks to one)
Nola: Excuse me, excuse me, remember me? I’m the little girl who filed the complaint about being drowned by that crazy John the beheaded. I have another problem.
(Soldier stares at Nola)
Nola: Strong silent type? Good. Okay, Simon is going to get raped tonight. At Jesus’ father’s mansion.
Soldier: Jesus of Nazareth?
Nola: Never heard of him. (She continues) But I’m not sure which father Jesus is talking about. Soldier: Jesus of Galilee?
Nola: Um? Am I not speaking English? Never heard of him either. (She continues) And I’m also not entirely sure which of these many mansions it will take place at. I’m thinking Joseph, in Bethlehem because if I know Jesus, it’s going to get dirty, and in Bethlehem, they have a donkey. Soldier: Jesus of Bethlehem?
Nola: Yes! You know him? He’s right over there. You’ll know him because he’s the guy making out with Judas.
(They look over and see Jesus and Judas standing in a garden, [edit] and [edit, edit] up and down [edit] kissing.)
(The soldiers run over to him and arrest him)
Nola: Wait! Wait! I’ll need to properly interrogate him. I’m sure he has others working for him. Wait! (To John) Here, (she shows him a picture on her Iphone)

Go find this and bring it to me. I’ll be (flipping through her Bible for Dummies) at the Governor’s mansion. Meet me there. (laughs to herself)

CUT TO THE OVAL OFFICE :

Obama: (feet up on desk, hands resting on the top of his head he stares at the ceiling)
Rahm: (passing a joint to Barack) Barack. You’ve got to calm yourself. Nola is going to come through. She’ll be back here tonight safe, sound, and slightly insane.
Obama: (smiles) Sometimes I think it’s too much for one little girl.
Rahm: Come on, O, this is Nola Shumway we’re talking about. If anyone can take on Jesus.
Obama: You’re right, it’s Nola. Hey, remember the time we sent her to the Republican National Convention and she convinced Sarah Palin that all her downs baby needed was a little shaking? (Laughing hysterically) Nola Shumway is literally chasing down Jesus in the New Testament. How motherfuckin high am I right now?

CUT TO SOMEWHERE IN THE NEW TESTAMENT:

Nola arrives at the Governor’s mansion and sees a huge crowd. She kicks and punches and stabs her way to the front. She sees Jesus and an oddly dressed man standing on a balcony.
Pilate: Tell me what I should do with this self proclaimed king of Jews-
Nola: Attention! Attention! (Sits down a crate that says ‘IN MEMORY OF MILK’ and steps up on it. She addresses the crowd)
Nola: Injustice! Injustice! This man who stands before you is not who he says he is! He is a closeted homosexual. And I stand here today with a message from Ted Haggard to tell Jesus the errors of his ways.
Pilate: Seize the girl! She works with this so called King of the Jews.
(Nola looks over to Jesus who is smiling at her)
Nola: You dirty rotten no good liar!
(Jesus laughs as they take him and Nola away.)

CUT TO THE EVERGREEN CHAPEL:

Reverend Lowery: (wiping the sweat from his weary brow. Looks up at the stunned congregation of two) you see, that right there is Jesus tricking the devil. You see, Jesus knew he was going to die for your sins, but he also took care of Nola the devil. That’s how amazing the mind of Christ is. In this next verse we will now look at the amazing strength of Christ’s body. How was he able to endure such pain and agony?
Congregation lady 1: Girl, something wrong with that Jesus. Shoot, I don’t blame Nola. If some guy told me his cock would crow after I denied him, I’d cut off his dick right then and there.
Congregation lady 2: True. I’d pull some Lorena Bobbitt shit and then feed it to him.
Congregation: Gaymen! Gaymen! Free Nola! Free Nola!

CUT TO SOMEWHERE IN THE NEW TESTAMENT:

Nola: (struggling with guards) you are making the biggest mistake of your pathetic lives. Do you know what is about to happen to you? You’re going to hear the voice of God, and he’s going to scare the life out of you.
(She pulls out her Iphone, dials, and puts the phone to the ear of the guard. A voice says something in a language he does not understand, the tone however is unmistakable. He releases Nola and, white from fear, drops to the ground and starts crying.
Nola puts the phone back to her ear
)
Nola: Vladdy? Thank you. Yes. Yes! I’ll be there in two shakes. Um, my shorts. Just suspenders. I’m not wearing underwear. Vladdy, I don’t really have time for this. Yes. (In perfect Russian) Да, моя влюбленность, я буду обслуживать вас когда я получу дом. Сегодня вечером. Я тебя люблю слишком
(Hangs up her phone and runs off)
Voice from the sky: Nola!
Nola: Rahm? Is that you? Where’s O?
RAHM: (laughing hysterically) Sorry Nola, couldn’t stop myself. I’ll put O on.
Obama: NOOOO-oh-oh-oh oh oh oh la la la!!!
Nola: Okay, you’re high. Anywho O, I get it. I’m back to Bethlehem. Two minutes. One minor detail before I go.
Obama: Nola. You can’t go to Golgotha. I know you, I understand you’re upset.
Nola: O, in my short time here I’ve been denied entrance into the gay circle, drowned, chased, and patronized. You know who I blame?
Obama: Jesus?
Nola: Jesus motherfucking Christ! That little weasel can get over on 80 percent of the population, but today he’s met his match. I’m not going anywhere until I see justice carried out.
Obama: So be it. I’ll have the secret service waiting for you in Golgotha.
(Nola closes her Bible for Dummies and throws it in the Serpents Pool. She skips off to Golgotha.)

CUT TO EVERGREEN CHAPEL:

Reverend Lowery:
And now we return to the gospel according to, uh, Nola Shumway.

Reverend Lowery: You see that’s the strength of Christ.
Looks down at bible and continues reading:

Reverend Lowery: (looks up from the bible.) Well, that is an interesting interpretation of John indeed.
CUT TO A BUNKER SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDWEST:
Nola:
So that’s it O. I swear, I thought I was done for, but my precious Vladdy came to my rescue.
Obama: Nola, I’m thankful you’re safe. Rahm has arranged for a press conference about the Evergreen Chapel incident. My administration is going to take a hit, but we’re going to leak the story along with mental health records of the good reverend. Everybody will think that once again I’ve set up church with a crazy reverend. Kanye’s tweets actually support our story, so we are very thankful for that. I do have one more question Nola-
Nola: Yes, I’m pretty sure he was gay.
Obama: No, (chuckling) I’m curious, is he really black?
Nola: Don’t be stupid O. He’s Jewish.
Obama: How can you be sure?
Nola: Let’s just say that when I said the guards could find him in the garden because he was the one kissing Judas, that was the G rated version of what was going on. Definitely not Black.
Obama: (chuckling) I was hoping, I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t.
Nola: I did figure one thing out while I was in the Rabbi hole.
Obama: What’s that?
Nola: Your tactic on selling climate change to the American public? It’s all wrong.
Obama: I’m listening.
Nola: The only thing in the world that can’t be debated is faith, right? I mean, people actually believe that this man Jesus broke fish into millions of pieces and served it to dirty poor people.
Obama: So to speak, yes.
Nola: Well, they have faith, so we can’t argue logically.
Obama: I’m a bit lost, I’ll admit.
Nola: We all are, O, a little less thanks to Google maps, but nonetheless. What I’m proposing is that we change the way we talk about climate change. We’ll refer to it as Intellectual Design. It will be referenced as the ‘Climate Change Faith.’ Mother Earth is our God, and she is a vengeful god, a just god. Her prophet, Al Gore has been running around the planet warning of the impending doom if we humans don’t change our ways. The devil, Rush Limbaugh, urges on the doubters, filling their heads with irrational thoughts about consumption, Jesus, and evil democrats.
Obama: (hugs Nola, tears in his eyes) my dear Mother Earth! Nola, I think you just started your very own religion.
Nola: (trying to escape squeeze) Ugh! Ick! I know, I know, you don’t have to be all sensitive. Can I go?
Obama: Where are you off to?
Nola: Russia, but of course. Check in with the Vlad. Did you see that FP greatest thinkers rating? Not bad. I’ll tell you, he’s going to have a lot on his mind when he sees what I brought home from Sodom. He is going to (Obama puts hand over Nola’s mouth)
Obama: Please Nola. Spare the details. Skip along, I’ll be in contact soon. Things are still festering in the financial sector. I may need you to go in, shake things up.
Nola: CEO? Oh, man I’m going to have the most amazing office. (turns, and over her shoulder) I’ll need a budget. Okay. That’s all, that’s all… BYE! (Skips off)

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Nola in the nude: A Testament To Matthew

The Gospel According To
MATTHEW
We meet up with Nola in Bethlehem, where she is staying with a friendly innkeeper and his wife. She has a copy of the Bible, which she keeps referring to as The Bible for Dummies. She is bored, restless and ready for something interesting or anything really, to happen. She is lying on the floor of the Inn flipping through the latest copy of Foreign Policy magazine.
Nola: What? O? What in a cat’s scratch are you doing in Russia? Why didn’t you tell me? (She stands, magazine still in hand.) Is that Vladdy? Why is he standing in the-
CUT TO EVERGREEN CHAPEL:

(Meanwhile over at Evergreen Chapel in Camp Pendleton Obama has just sat down to Sunday service and as he takes out his Bible the Reverend Joseph Lowery begins his sermon.)
Reverend Joseph Lowery: Welcome. The Gospel (long pause) according to Matthew. Chapter one, verse one says ‘The book (pause) of the (pause) generation of Jesus Christ, (pause) the son of David, (pause) the son of Abraham.
Nola: Psst. O? Can you hear me?
(Obama looks around)
Reverend Joseph Lowery: Verse 2 (pause) Abraham begat Isaac, you see, (looks up from his bible) you see how we all come together? One after another? (back to his bible) And Isaac begat Jacob, (pause) he sure did.
Nola: PSSSSSSt. O? Hey, you there?
(Obama looks down at his bible)
1 The book of the generation of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.
2 Abraham begat Isaac; and Isaac begat Jacob ‘blah blah blah- Nola Shumway here! Friend to sinners; foe to saints. Nola requests an audience with the President of these (for now) United States.’

Obama:
Nola? Can you hear me?
Nola: Of course I can. Don’t act so stinking surprised. The bible speaks to people all the time. Now listen O, what’s up? Why am I reading about you canoodling with my man?
Obama: (Chuckling) Nola, first of all, this was your idea. You were the one concerned about US –Russian relations.
Nola: I’m listening.
Obama: It was strictly political posturing on my part. Please believe me. I am in no way cozying up to that man.
Nola: My man.
Obama: Your man. Correct.
Nola: He had tea with you at his house. On his deck. I saw the pictures. Did he ask about me? The first time we kissed we were out on that deck. He had just ordered the poisoning of a former KGB operative and I had just finished eating my milk and cookies. We were sitting on the deck and he took me on his lap and I stared into his cold lifeless eyes.
Obama: Nola, you’re rambling. How are things in Bethlehem?
Nola: Sa-noozey. There isn’t anything to do here. This Inn is a disaster. It’s actually more like a barn. There is this crazy couple staying with us though. Get this O, there is this crazy guy, his name is Joseph. He says his soon to be wife, a thirteen year old virgin, is pregnant with the son of God. HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA. Do you believe that? A thirteen year old virgin? He actually told us that story over dinner. Said he was visited by some angel who told him that Mary, that’s his slutty fiancé, was carrying the son of God and he should marry her anyway. Of course my hosts immediately threw them out into the actual barn.
Obama: Nola, I have to go. People are staring. You be good. Remember- I’ll be watching.
Nola: Fine. Fine. You get all the excitement. Tell Sonia I said hi. Can my next mission be California? I’ve developed a slight crush on a one Huell Howser and think I have a great plan for California.
Obama: Fine. Uh, Nola?
Nola: YEE-es, O?
Obama: Mind yourself. P’s, Q’s, and stay OUT OF TROUBLE.
Nola: Got it.
CUT BACK TO NOLA SOMEWHERE IN THE NEW TESTAMENT:
 
Nola closes her Bible for Dummies and finds herself standing knee deep in a river. She begins to ask a man standing near her for directions back to Bethlehem when all of a sudden-
Nola: (submerged in the water) gargle gargle gargle. Sir (breath) can you please tell me- gargle gargle gargle- (breath) where I can- Sir! Gargle. (kicks the man in the shin underwater) Can you stop doing that sir! I’m trying to ask how to get back to- gargle gargle gargle. (Another kick from Nola to his shin. She breaks free and runs away toward a group of men talking by a fishing boat. As she walks up the three men start to walk away)
Brunette Man: (to the others) Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.
Nola: My Gays!
(Nola runs after them trying to catch up. She follows them up a steep mountain and arrives at a clearing where there are many men standing around flirting. She checks Bible for Dummies. It seems that she’s made her way to a club called Sermon on the Mount. There is a young, attractive Brunette man that has the audience captivated. He speaks slowly and softly. Sort of like an annoying liberal brat who went to an ivy-league college because his parents are uber-rich and then decides for a year he’s going to get rid of all possessions because they quote “don’t really mean anything.” You know the kind that black kids in the ghetto just want to beat the shit out of.
Brunette Man: Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out then-
Nola: (to man standing by her) You can’t come out? Are you guys in politics?
Man: No.
Nola: Actors?
Man: No.
Nola: Football players?
Man: Shh.
Brunette Man: Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, thou shalt not commit adultery.
Nola: (clapping) Here! Here! Who wants to be a stupid ol adult anyway! (To man) Who is this guy anyway?
Man: He is Jesus of Nazareth.
Nola: Don’t know him.
Man: Jesus of Galilee.
Nola: Don’t know him.
Man: Jesus born in Bethlehem.
Nola: Hey! I know Bethlehem. That’s where I just came from. Oh Man, I have some good gossip!
Man: Do tell, little child.
Nola: Well, I stayed at this inn and this crazy man Joseph came to stay with his whore of a fiancé. He told us all that his son was to be born of his whore fiancé Mary, who, by the way claimed to be a virgin, and that he was the son of God.
Man: (excited, points to Brunette man) That’s him. Jesus. Son of God.
CUT TO EVERGREEN CHAPEL:
 
Reverend Lowery :(reading aloud) ‘HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHA. And Nola did then fall down to the ground and roll around until she had tired herself. And when, then she was finished laughing at this newly discovered information she rose up onto her feet and said –
CUT BACK TO NOLA SOMEWHERE IN THE NEW TESTAMENT:
Nola: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. AHAHAHAAHAHHAHAH. Seriously, that little guy over there is the son of God? But I was just over at that inn yesterday.
(All of a sudden a thunderous voice seemingly coming from the sky speaks)
Obama: Nola! No-La Shumway!
Man: It’s god! He speaks. Who is Nola?
Nola: (pushing past him, he falls to the ground and Nola calls back to the man.) That’s not God stupid, it’s Obama. The President. I’m Nola. Nola Shumway. Friend to sinners; foe to saints.
Nola: Hey O, what’s up?
Obama: Nola, what are you doing?
Nola: Hahaha. O, This guy just told me that this over guy over there. Can you see me? Or just hear me.
Obama: Nola, you’re changing the bible. (whispering) Everyone at church thinks the good Reverend is disturbed.
Nola: Well, O, I hate to keep bringing this up, but when it comes to Reverends your track record isn’t exactly-
Obama: -Nola! Not another word! Now, I told you to stay out of trouble. That means don’t do anything that will draw attention. Now, I will be in church the rest of the morning, so if you disturb the New Testament I will know about it.
Nola: Yes sir! Oh, tell Malia I said hi. And tell Joe he owes me forty bucks.
Obama: For what?
Nola: You know I can’t say. But I wish you would have picked a veep with a little more faith in your ability to stay alive. O, I gotta go, things just got interesting…
TO BE CONTINUED……….

Dedicated to my homie Nolo… Rest in peace dawg, cuz I know you’re taking a nap at yo mama’s crib

Nola is standing behind bars at the LA County jail. (Alright, alright, there aren’t actually bars at LA County, but Nola is in charge here and she’s imagining a dirty Brazilian prison with cockroaches the size of her head.) A group of Bridge Elementary fourth graders are touring the jail as part of the city’s program “Gangs are not off the chain”. They are all lined up outside of Nola’s cell– all except for five little cholos who are exchanging kites, or correspondence from outside gang members, in the form of stories they have written with gang members from their neighborhoods. At press time, members from the Latin Kings, five percenters and the 18th street gang all cited ‘Gangs are not off the chain’ as the most reliable way to correspond with fellow incarcerated gang members.

NOLA: (to the fourth graders) hey, pee wees. I want to tell you all a little story about Nola ‘The Chola’ Shumway. It seems like just yesterday I was a sweet, pretty, young girl just dancing and skipping around… a black ribbon in my hair, skipping down the street-
CELLMATE: –yo girl, you just got here yesterday.

NOLA: (turns to cellmate) Ay! Werota! Shut your dirty mouth, Baboso! Tu madre es una puta! I love you girl! (Back to kids) Anyway, putas, there I was skipping down the street minding my own business when I noticed two sloppily written and grossly misspelled words shading my favorite neighborhood wall from the early afternoon sunshine:












CELLMATE: Yo, girl, who did that shi-

NOLA: –ay, chinga tu madre! Hueless a mierda you smell like a dirty see you next Tuesday. If you don’t stop interrupting me I’m going to slice your face up with a dull razor… Thanks girl, I love you. (Back to kids) I was outraged! Who would do such a thing? I’ll admit, PiRo wasn’t the kind of neighborhood to be a braggart about, but it was my hood, that I repped, and I wasn’t about to allow any outside riff raff to invade it. I adored my place in my orthodox Jewish neighborhood, enjoyed the power I was granted just by the simple fact that I was the only non Jew. How I enjoyed the ability to literally give heat to those who could not flip switches on Friday nights. I ran this neighborhood! Who was it? Who was battling me? Who wanted my neighborhood and all the power that came with it? I was outraged! Indignant! I was—

(FROM OFF): Chowtime!

NOLA: I’ll be back in twenty. (To cellmate) vamanos culo puta pupusa!

……..TWENTY MINUTES LATER……

NOLA: I was indignant!

CELLMATE: Yo, girl you already said that…

(Nola pulls out a dull razor from her black ribbon and proceeds to slice up cellmate’s face)

NOLA: (to the kids- all crying) Yo, baby gangsters, I told her to shut her mouth! My own sister! Look what she made me do! So, anyways, I decided to take action! I called up a one Mrs. Ghanghi, head of the anti gang department in Los Angeles.

-LET US CUT TO THAT PHONE CALL-

NOLA: Hi, Mrs. Ghanghi? Nola Shumway here, ready, eager and available after school Monday through Friday to help solve the gang problem. I’ve got ropes, concrete and detailed maps of all suspected gang members’ homes. I even know when they aren’t at home, so getting to their children won’t be a problem.

Mrs Ghanghi: (laughing uncomfortably) Whoa, Nola, hold on dear, you don’t sound much older than a child yourself.

NOLA: I’m eight years old ma’am and fully capable of tying up riff raff and dumping them in the ocean. My father and my father’s father were longshoremen… and Italian. And short.

Mrs. Ghanghi: Well… um. Thank you Nola. We certainly appreciate all the help we can get but first of all I need to ask a few things.

Nola: I’ve never killed anyone and I never do drugs that the president himself hasn’t tried.

Mrs. Ghanghi: No, no, no… (Very uncomfortable now) um, what I was going to ask about was what you saw in your neighborhood that prompted this call.

Nola: Grossly misspelled words sloppily written across my favorite wall.

Mrs.Ghanghi: Oh, well Nola, we have a program for graffiti artists: From Cans to Canvas. We-

Nola: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You’re joking?

Mrs.Ghanghi: Many of these young and adult men are very talented artists. With the proper encouragement we think they can grow into–

Nola: -HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! You’re still joking. You’re very funny Mrs. Ghanghi. Hey, I’ve got one! A tagger is to a gang as a blank is to a blank.

Mrs. Ghanghi: Now Nola, I’m perfectly serious and I want you to be serious too. Where is your mother?

Nola: Teaching a meat carving class to serial killers. Give up? Okay- A tagger is to a gang as a kicker is to a football team! HAHA ha-ha ha-ha HAHA! Thanks for your time Mrs. Ghanghi; I’m going to go it alone. I’m going to find these little rascals, and when I find them I’m going to slice them open and finger paint with their blood all over their neighborhoods. Good day to you.

…….LET US CUT BACK TO THE JAIL………

Nola: So Mrs. Ghanghi wasn’t going to help me. Art huh? It got me thinking. They were bringing their art into my neighborhood and here I was being selfish with my own.

…….CUT TO FRONT LAWN OF A HOUSE IN THE PICO UNION NEIGHBORHOOD…….. (18th street gang stand up!)

Nola, carrying a silver box and a shot gun, walks up to the front lawn of a crappy house. She sets the box down on the porch and hits play.
NOLA: (Singing- terribly. Dancing- terribly.)
OHHHHHHH-K-Lahoma!
where the winds come sweepin’ down the plain!
And the wavin wheat,
can sure smell sweet,
when the wind comes right behind the rain!

A boy of about eight rushes outside. He is wearing a black doo-rag and is covered in large black tattoos; a cross, I heart mi madre, 18th street, and a full color portrait of Rey Mysterio.


NOLA: (still singing and dancing terribly)
Oklahoma!
Ev’ry night my honey lamb and I,
Sit alone and talk and watch a hawk,
makin’ lazy circles in the sky.

NOLO: Ay, Kieta el stupido elephante! Get off my lawn you stupid little—
…………….BACK TO LA COUNTY…………..
WARDEN: Nola! Nola! Are you listening? You have a visitor.
NOLA: Oh? But I was just in the middle of telling these little badasses a fairytale.
WARDEN: You’re coming with me you stupid little girl. (Grabs her by the arm and smacks her in the face)
NOLA: (as Warden is pulling her by her hair down the hall) La RAZA! LA RAZA! Yo Mataria Tu! You understand? Yo Mataria Tu!Warden sits Nola down in his office and leaves.
Out of the shadows appears a tall, dark, impeccably dressed figure.
Obama: That’s enough narration Nola. You’re talking too much.
Nola: Sorry, O, I’ve just been locked up for such a long time. I’m starting to go nuts.
Obama: You’ve been here all of six hours. We’ll have you out soon, but we need to proceed with caution. The last thing I need is an outed operative.
Nola: I know. I’m actually enjoying myself.
Obama: So I’ve heard. Tell me about this Nolo figure.
Nola: Nolo ‘the cholo’ marquelas! I love him! I met him while I was performing a rousing rendition of Oklahoma on his front porch.
Obama: I heard it didn’t go so well.
Nola: (sad) you heard? I knew I should have gone with West Side Story. Anyway, my plan was to get him to ask me out. I figured if I was the girl of a gang member I would see some action- be able to see their inner workings. But Nolo said gangs didn’t work like that. He said that so long as I wasn’t a gang member, when we were out on the town, gang code forbid rival gangs to mess with us.
Obama: Interesting.
Nola: Yeah. Who would have thought? Romantics… these murdering lowlifes. My only option was to join the gang. I had two choices. I either had to endure eighteen seconds of the girl gang members kicking me in the head…
Obama: Ouch
Nola: I know, right? Good thing I wasn’t joining the 118th street gang!
Obama: The other option?
Nola: (uncomfortable. Leans in and whispers into O’s ear) spspspps sspsp sssspppp psppspp spspspps ppspp ssp bang spspspa sppp spspps spspps spps 18 spsp spsps.
Obama: Eew.
Nola: I know.
Obama: Tell me you didn’t-
Nola: -O! I’m not that kind of little girl! (Pause) I decided to start my own gang. I rounded up the toughest, meanest, most badass friends I could find. We started THE GaYNG: Gays and Young Nola Gang. We’re effing crazy O!
Obama: (chuckling) Okay, Okay. You and your gays start a gang.
Nola: Gay-ang.
Obama: Gay-ang. Sorry. But it still doesn’t explain why my Sweet Pretty Young Nola is locked up in LA County.
Nola: O! Stop interrupting me pinchi pendejo! (Stops) Sorry, Nola ‘the chola’ coming out there. I’m lost in my cover. Anyways, so me and my Out&About Boys are ru-
Obama: –Nola, you mean homeboys.
Nola: No, O, I mean Out&About Boys. Homeboys would be so offensive to my clique. Have you seen the way cholos dress? It’s appalling. Moving on… Me and the-
Obama: -Out&About Boys…
Nola: we start asking around, talking to anybody. And anybody says ‘come on Riff-
Obama: -Nola, I’m not interested in West Side Story right now.
Nola: Right, sorry. Okay… So I call up Nolo.
Obama: The Cholo?
Nola: Yeah. And I tell him ‘Hey dirty pinchi bendejo. Me cago en tus muertos! La WEHO! LaWeho! Bitch! Why don’t you come down for a rumble?
Obama: So you fought the 18th street gang in West Hollywood?
Nola: No. They didn’t want to meet up. Apparently gangs only fight over location. It’s sort of like realtors with unregistered automatic weapons. Apparently these gangs don’t think West Hollywood is worth the trouble. Except the Mormons. That gang is very interested in WEHO for some reason. Anyway, I proposed to the Out&About Boys that we go down to their neighborhood. I told Ratti it was south of Pico and he said ‘aw, hell no’. So I arranged a date with Nolo. I figured we were both in gangs now; we should be an open target.
Obama: I hate the danger you put yourself in.
Nola: O… you sent me to Russia with an ex-KGB operative four times my age.
Obama: You said it was your dream vacation!
Nola: It was! It was! It was like living in it’s a small world after all- minus the dolls. I’m glad to do it O, helping you. Anyway, nothing even happened. Nolo said the majority of gang time is spent collecting rent with his fellow apartment boys.
Obama: You mean homeboys.
Nola: Whatever. So no one bothered us.
Obama: What do you mean by ‘collecting rent?’
Nola: Nolo said gangs collect rent from business owners in their own neighborhoods. He said it’s a protection they are paying for.
Obama: Protection from whom?
Nola: Who knows? He never could pinpoint exactly who the threat would come from. I talked to one of the shop owners and he said he only feared not being able to make his rent payments- to the gang, not the bank.
Obama: Rent collectors. Interesting.
Nola: Yeah, and you’d think with all the importance they place on collecting rent they would place equal importance on paying rent to their own landlords, aka mamas, baby mamas and granmamamas. But with all the screaming and yelling going on at Nolo’s place I believe this not to be the case.
Obama: And what do you believe they are spending this collected money on? If they are laundering it we can get them for that.
Nola: As far as I can tell they spend it mostly on gawdy cars and accessories, video game consoles and buying nice things for their cholitas.
Obama: Did Nolo buy you those earrings you came in with?
Nola: Yeah, but he got them from the gifts for guns program. Trade in your guns for gift cards. 50 dollars for a handgun and 100 for a semi automatic. It’s how Nolo buys Christmas presents for his family every year. Sweet cholo, that Nolo.
Obama: So what’s your proposal Nola? What do we do?
Nola: World’s Best Gang! A competition to determine once and for all who in the world is the best. It worked for the Warriors! See, we put all of our American gangs in an international competition against all the other gangs around the world. Have them battle it out until there is one gang standing.
Obama: But that’s flawed, Nola. Who would MS13 fight for? America or El Salvador? What about the Latin Kings? They wouldn’t fight representing America.
Nola: That’s why it’s also your immigration solution! Well, at least for Los Angeles. Everyone knows were all Americans until we play sports on an international stage. Then all of the sudden people are representing Lithuania in table tennis even though they’ve been living in Topeka, Kansas their whole life! The foreign gangs will go back to their countries, fight for their home countries. That will leave us with the KKK and the Mormons. But they’re silly, and I already have a plan in action to deal with them. Anyway- that’s the plan. Have them all kill each other in one last final international gang battle- televised.
Obama: But what happens when there is one last gang standing? What do they win?
Nola: Three consecutive life terms in a Brazilian prison.
Obama: And the Brazilians, they have agreed?
Nola: Oh, yeah, it’s a win/win for them. Well a win/win/win. I had to promise them two things. One-2014 World Cup has to be in Brazil.
Obama: Done.
Nola: Pay off their IMF debt.
Obama: I’ll talk to the Chinese, but I think it can be done.
Nola: Alright, we’re good, can I go back now? I want to tell the kids about the time Ratti almost killed this banger because he repped the five percenters.
(O gives Nola a puzzled look)
Nola: He thought he was talking about tipping.
Obama: (chuckling) Oh, that Ratti. He’s so excitable. But what was the third win for the Brazilians?
Nola: Pardon?
Obama: You said win/win/win.
Nola: Oh, well. (She stands, puts her hands behind her back and sheepishly grins at O like a little girl.) The Brazilians are running out of food for their prisoners. We’re going to hand over the largest street gang in the world to the Brazilians. Win.
Obama: (shock, then disgust) Nola Shumway!
Nola: O! Don’t worry. Nobody is going to know a thing.
Obama: And also, you still didn’t explain why you are in here.
Nola: A dictionary drive.
Obama: I’m not following.
Nola: After I realized there was no short term solution to the graffiti problem I decided to hold a dictionary drive- for the taggers. I thought the least they could do when they were tagging my neighborhood would be to get the words right.
Obama: well, that doesn’t seem so bad.
Nola: Well, the first tagger I tried to give a dictionary to tried to kill me. So the Out & About boys and I dropped him over a pole and now he’s paralyzed.
Obama: No you didn’t Nola, that was Blood in, Blood out.
Nola: You’re right. Excellent film though. Okay, really I just threw the book at his head. Little bitch, he told on me.
Obama: He was five Nola.
Nola: Dirty puto. Anyway, that’s why I’m here. And don’t worry, I won’t run into anymore problems with the dictionaries. I have the Mormons handing them out. They were tired of the Jehovah’s always getting to the neighborhoods first. Oh, and you might want to assemble a task force to deal with all the dead Mormons. A tagger takes to a dictionary the way a cat takes to water.
Obama: One more problem Nola.
Nola: Ay! Dejeme solo! Cual ahora es el?
Obama: You sliced up your cellmate. Remember? I have an operative working undercover who has sliced up an innocent civilian.
(Nola opens mouth to speak)
Obama: I’ve read the report Nola. I don’t buy it that you were trying to tattoo eyebrows. And neither does the warden. We have to hide you. Somewhere no one will know to find you. Somewhere where you can’t get into any trouble. You know what I’m thinking?
Nola: New Testament?
Obama: Pack your bag.

While you were out….

Dear O,


I hope all is going well on your whirlwind trip across America. Oh, and we saw you on the Tonight show. Unfortunate choice of words; you should have said I’M like special Olympics or something. Not IT’S. Or It’s like I’m in the special Olympics or something. It really didn’t make sense the way you put that sentence together. Anyway, the girls and I are having tons O fun here in the O-val Office. I was digging in your top drawer today looking for your gum (Malia said Nicorette was disgusting, I had to prove her wrong) and I came across the “FINANCIAL MESS” file. Well of course, as little girl of the house while you’re gone, I decided to help you out. I sat right down in your big, stiff, cold chair and started to work on a plan that, I think, will really help to ease the worries of the American public. It’s called “We’re having a meltdown” (If you see A Star is Born and notice the little number a one Marilyn Monroe sings quite love-a-lee, you’ll catch my vision)

Stra-tee-geery! (I know you love it when I say it) Stra-tee-geery! Stra-tee-geery!!!!

Operation “We’re having a meltdown America”

1. First of all, we need Americans to understand that we’re fucked. Seriously fucked. I think the best way to grab the public’s attention is to roll out an edgy ad campaign. 

We’ll get depressed celebrities to film short PSA spots. They’ll go a little something like this:

“Hi, I’m Owen Wilson and I’m depressed. America, it’s time to admit you’re depressed too.”

I’ve already talked to the publicists for Britney Spears, Val Kilmer, Jennifer Aniston and I thought it would be best if you called Oprah yourself.

2. We’re trying to get rid of toxic assets on bank balance sheets right? Well, I say put them in a grab bag. Everybody loves grab bags. It’s like the lottery! “What am I going to get, what am I going to get” ‘Damn, half of the lower ninth ward and half a billion in AIG, pardon, AI”U credit default swaps. Fuck! orrrrrrrrr…… “Yes! A housing development in Elk Grove!” 

3. Slogans! We need snazzy one liners for Americans to throw around. Americans are only into something if it can be summed up in either a country song or a one liner. I’m not a country singer, so we thought one liners would be the next best thing, and bumper stickers, shirts and stickers create revenue. The girls and I are going to handle this one for you. We’ve already thought of  a few. (See if you can spot mine!)

“It’ll all work out. And if not, it should have!”

“If America can’t get out of the red, I shouldn’t have to get out of bed!”

“America: Fucked now and fucked later.”

“Cats are cute, and I love my dad.”*

*Malia is having trouble with the concept of a slogan. I know how you feel O, but I think it’s time for private school.

4. Less is more than enough! America is way too big to manage as a country. I say we get rid of some property and raise revenue: Win/Win! 
Lets sell Texas to the Mexican government.* Their drug war is already spilling into Texan cities anyway. And Montana is always bragging about how they only have six or seven people per square mile, so I figure we can relocate Texans to Montana. Same thing right? Pretty much, after most of the nonwhite population stays in Texaco. 
And instead of consulates, I say we sell entire cities to countries. San Francisco can be sold to China. Spokane to Russia. And we can make New York a worldwide time share: France gets a month, Israel a month (at a discount), Africa a week (pro bono) etc… It’s time, O, we need to liquidate America!!!!!

*assuming at press time that the mexican government still had control over Mexico. If not, we sell Texas to the drug lords. 

5. Brackets! You love brackets! I love brackets! America is crazy for brackets! I propose the following to help America get excited about impending doom:

2009 FDIC MARCH TO NATIONALIZATION TOURNAMENT

Let’s put the banks into four regions, and see which beat each other out for the title of the worst bank in America.

I know you’re busy with your tour and doing your NCAA bracket (And it really hurts that you picked UNC over my beloved Zags) so I decided to do your picks. I’m finished with your sweet sixteen. Here’s my, ugh, your list.

SOUTH

Floridian Bank, hailing from Ormond Beach, Florida. This young bank boasts a slightly high leverage ratio of 12.85 and at press time was in the red. But with smart plays, like contributing to the Kosmas for Congress campaign, dashing leader CEO Thomas Dargan is hoping to not pull out the upset of a lifetime. Deposits will probably remain safe and sound, and, depending on the impending hurricane season, maybe even underwater.

Columbus Bank Trust, hailing from Columbus, Georgia. This mature bank enjoys relative anonymity, most likely because of it’s uber reclusive CEO Samuel Wellborn. Welldone. But they have to show their cards sometime, and with their penchant for commercial lending and fairly high leverage ratio, 12.67, we can bet those cards are red.

Tri Parish Bank, hailing from Eunice, Louisiana. In the black at press time. But CEO Jerry Reaux is almost too confident. Last week he said of his team “We’re strong, we’re well capitalized.” Tri Parish could be the 2009 AIG ugh, AIU. Mr. Reaux and his team bring to mind the comments made by Joseph Cassano in August 2007 in response to the worry of investors. Just months before a government takeover he, as Aig’s head of financial products said in regards to his company’s CDOs that “it is hard for us, without being flippant to even see a scenario within any kind of realm of reason that would see us losing a dollar on any of these transactions.” If Reaux is the new Cassano, then Tri Parish is the new AIG-U. If that happens, they should advance.

Roanoke Rapids Savings Bank hailing from– wait, I have no clue where they hail from. But they’re a mature bank established in 1914. They could be the Cinderella of the tournament. 


WEST

Wells Fargo hailing from San Francisco, California. The big number one seed in the tourney. Many see their penchant for piggyback loans as the main reason for the high seeding. CEO Dick Kovacevich raised eyebrows after accepting 25 Billion in bailout monies and then turning around and criticizing TARP. This is one to watch.

Arrowhead Community bank hailing from Glendale, Arizona. Low leverage ratio, FDIC regulated and conservative loan programs mean they shouldn’t get past the elite eight.

Pacific Rim Bank hailing from Honolulu, Hawaii. Slim chance of advancing, but I know you have a soft spot for Hawaii O. Good Luck.

First Utah Bank hailing from Salt Lake City, Utah. Donated to the Mitt Romney campaign, which means they have a connection to the Mormon church. Any bailout money, if needed, would probably come from the Mormon church itself. Sill one to watch; Mormons are always unpredictable- at least they are on television.

MIDWEST

Bank of Wisconsin hailing from Wisconsin Wells, Wisconsin. Their banking practices make as much sense as the new state motto. Should be an interesting one to watch.

STC Capital Bank hailing from St. Charles, Illinois. Young bank with a fairly high leverage ratio, but smartly stayed out of the sub-prime mess for the most part. Only a poorly researched Oprah show on “The state of banks in Illinois” could cause it’s collapse. Unless Oprah can singlehandedly cause a run on the banks, it looks like its run in the tourney will be short lived.

United State Bank hailing from Lewiston, Missouri. Stability and a conservative loan portfolio is probably going to keep this one from advancing. True, they’ve been around the block a few times, but only to grab Venti Coffees from the Starbucks around the corner. 

The First State Bank of Ransom hailing from Ransom, Kansas. At press time they are in the black, but a high leverage ratio of 21.43 and a specialty in Agricultural loans mean they have a good chance of advancing- and even better chance that pitchforks will factor into this banks eventual dismantling.

EAST 

CHASE hailing from Newark, Delaware. The big number one seed out of the east, they are led by all star CEO Jamie Dimon who wowed investors by accepting a government bailout and then promptly pledging 400 million to help with the outsourcing of jobs to India. Some say Chase is the true (foreign) people’s  champion. 

Sturdy Savings Bank hailing from Stoneharbor, New Jersey. Their name is their game. Led by employee of the quarter Barbara Niemczak, this commercial lending specialist has a reasonable 11.31 leverage ration. Probably go out early.

Cambridge Trust Company hailing from Cambridge, Massachusetts. Somehow managed to keep a low leverage ratio, 7.86, despite the fact that mortgage lending is their specialty. And CEO Joe Roller isn’t afraid to throw a log on the fire when things get a bit chilly. Of course he’s throwing that log to fuel the fire in  the fireplace that is located in his lavishly decorated office. 

Farmers and Merchants hailing from Upperco, Maryland. The leverage ratio is average. The specialty, commercial lending, a bore. They’ve been around almost a hundred years. I’d bet a week’s allowance they aren’t getting out of the sweet sixteen.

Okay, there you are, O, I did your brackets, took care of the advertising and even cleaned up a bit of the ashes left around your desk. (If Michelle catches you sneaking cigarettes she’s going to be pissed.) I think if we roll out the new “We’re having a meltdown” campaign by the end of this week, we should see results by May. Oh, and I got your note about the gangs. I’m on the case. Peace out homie…..

Your loving and (mostly) obedient, 
Sweet Pretty Young, Nola Shumway.

P.s. Vladimir says hi.

Shumway…Nola Shumway… I like my olives garish and I hate martinis!

Nola was recently asked to be involved in the first major meeting at the new administration’s white house. Dressed in her Sunday best, she skipped over to 1550 Pennsylvania ave, kicked in the front door and scared some little old lady half to death. She then skipped over to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, kicked in the door and then kicked the secret service agent in the shins after being told she could not bring in a razor blade. “It’s not for them, it’s for me, I promise.” No luck, razor blade-less but full of joy and cheap beer she proudly took her place at the table alongside some of America’s most beloved leaders and also some of America’s priority targets. As his first order of business, Barack (he enjoys being called by his first name, he’s just like everyone else) brought a few great men, some swine, and Nola together to finally solve the problem that has been plaguing the country for several years. Now, they told Nola no audio recording, but Nola doesn’t like to be told what to do… The following transcript is what took place on January 21, 2009 in an undisclosed nondescript office in the White House.

Barack: Young Lady, Gentlemen and Kim Jong Il, I would personally like to offer my gratitude that you all agreed to be here today. First, let me say that everything said in this room today is completely confidential and also will ultimately have little affect on my decision. With that said, I want to make it very clear- I do not want any of us to leave this room until we’ve come to a solution.…I believe it is an absolute necessity to create a playoff system in the BCS.
(Medvedev is seated next to Putin in a kiddie chair. Putin whispers to Medvedev who responds to Obama)
Medvedev: BCS?
Nola: You can remember it by thinking-Beslan Children’s School. (to Putin) Right Vlad? May I call you Vlad?
Medvedev: Who is this annoying child? Can she please be disposed of?
(Putin whispers to Medvedev something inaudible)
Nola: Maybe I remind him of one of the little Beslan kids. Shame. I know…
Joe Pa: Are we going to get back to football soon?
Barack: (smiling) relax Joe we’ll get to it. (shaking sound is heard, sounds like ice)
Kim Jong Il: (to Putin in perfect Russian) работая на новой игре. Я полюбил бы для вас прочитать его.
Barack: Ah, Kim, or may I call you Yuri? (Kim smiles and nods) Yuri, I am so pleased you could make it. I know that you have not been well.
Hugo Chavez: All lies published by the Americans.
Nola: (pours from a shaker into a glass, hands to Putin) Red Bull Vodka, Vlad? Can Medvedev have one?
JoePa: (to Barack, looking over at Medvedev and Putin) I think they’re gonna stop it cold.
Chavez: Relax Mr. Paterno, (laughing) it seems you might be paranoid. Maybe you’re getting a little to old for this kind of thing. Have you ever thought of retirement in Venezuela?
JoePa: (angry) Okay look asshole, I’ll go when I’m ready to go, and you of all people can certainly understand that. We’re talking football, let’s talk football.
(shaking sounds)
Putin: I don’t see value in changing old system. Keep computer system and fudge numbers. That way your best teams always get in no matter how much they lose.
Nola: (to Barack, handing him a drink) Black Russian, O?
Barack: Ah, thank you Nola. (raises glass) In honor of our great countries coming together once again! I really think you’re on to something Vlad. Let me ask you, what do you think about strength of opponent being a factor?

(Mevedev starts to speak, Putin hushes him)
Putin: Russia has never factored strength of opponent. Why should America?
Nola: Hey Vlad, about that, if you haven’t the interest in the strength of the opponent I was wondering…
Putin: (finally smiling) yes, my child…
Nola: Hows about you invade and occupy America? Then the English can liberate us! And my sweet Prince Harry will march with his brigade into my city and rescue me and we’ll finally be together. Whadda ya say, Vlad?
Madoff: (joining from satellite) Why don’t we just make all the teams pay money to get into the playoffs?
Barack: (trying) Yes, but then how long would the playoff season last?
Madoff: Well, we only have an eight team playoff.
Barack: …rrrright…well thanks for joining us Mr. Madoff.
Madoff: Oh, please, call me Bernie.
Barack: No thanks. (to Nola) Cut his feed.
Nola: sure thing.
Mr. No on 8 spokesperson: Mr. President, first of all I would like to say thank you so much for having us here. We are honored. But I would like to point out that you are about to make a very hypocritical decision. After all, tradition is the reason we homosexuals are not allowed to properly proclaim our love for one another. Traditionally marriage is between a man and a woman and you have made it clear that you support that tradition…
(Nola starts making a cocktail)
Mr. Arab: Man with man is disgusting and should be punished.
Nola: Sex on the Beach, Mr. Arab?
Putin: She’s funny, no?
Arab: She would be killed for less where I am from.
Barack: She is protected here.
Mr. No on 8: excuse me… I was talking…
Nola: (hands drink to no on 8) Cosmo?
Mr. No on 8: bless you child, now as I was saying, Barack, it would be a huge mistake to change this football thingy when you already came out (Nola laughs) against changing the laws so that gays can marry.
Nola: (goes over to Kim Jong Il) What is your play about?
Kim Jong Il: You speak Russian?
Nola: (whispering) I kinda have a bit of a crush on Vlad. I thought speaking his language would give me a better shot. And, don’t say anything, but I’m trying to get him drunk. So…the play?

Kim Jong Il: (suddenly animated) Well, it’s about a little boy who dreams of joining the Russian Ballet only to be kidnapped and sent to a very poor country. He eventually escapes and finds a boy who looks just like him to take his place. No one notices that he has ever left.
Nola: (handing him a cocktail) That’s sweet, Blow job? …Wait, we gotta do it right. Hugo, let Kim take a blow job from your legs. (looks over to Barack) I love hanging with our enemies!
Or I guess we can now say….Frenemies!!!!
Barack: Okay, so far we think a playoff is a good idea? Or we think it is better to just leave it as a tradition?
Chavez: You know who I always liked? Nixon….
(JoPa flies over the table about to deck Hugo Chavez)
Chavez: (running from the table) it’s the only time in your history that your country made any sense to me!
Barack: Gentlemen, gentlemen.
Nola: (leaning into the Arab) and so I said “Jesus, come down from that cross, I want to pick a fight with you”
Mr. Arab: (laughing) You….you…you would die so quickly in my country….but i think you’re funny.
Nola: If you liked that one you’ll love this …. I was walking down the road one day and I saw Muhammad laying on the side of the street with his head stuck under a VW bus-
Mr. Arab: (stands up and pulls out sword) Infidel! Dirty slut! You’ll die by my blade!
(Putin gets up in a flash and disarms the Arab with lightning speed, throws Arab to the ground and walks over to Nola, who has been thrown on to the floor. He grabs her hand and leads her back to the table.)
Putin: My child.
Nola: My Prime.
(They smile, staring at each other)
Chavez: (out of breath and circling the table, running away from Joe Paterno) Why not propose playoff system like you want and cut off funding to schools who don’t agree.
Nola: Guys…guys… and Kim… It’s simple, playoffs, like O wants, and we break it into brackets. First bracket we call One Dumb Game.
Pete Carroll: Thank you Nola.
Nola: Don’t mention it. It’s basically the bracket for the teams who have one really stupid retarded mind blowing ridiculous loss to a crappy, unranked bad team…
Pete Carroll: That was harsh.
Nola: (Nola turns to Pete) You needed to hear it. Spritzer? (hands to Pete) Anyways, then we’ll have the “Football Country” bracket. All the teams from football country will play within this bracket.
Putin: (with his hand on Nola’s thigh) I’ve never heard of…this…Country of Football?
Nola: shh…it doesn’t really exist, but we like to humor them. They lead very very dull lives otherwise… Okay, next bracket is called “They lost nothing to Nobodys” which will include your UtahsHawaiis, Boise st..etc.
Barack: Nola!
Nola: I’m sorry, O, Hawaii is not a force to be reckoned with! You need people around you who will tell the truth.
Barack: You’re right, go on..
Nola: Finally…we’ll have the BCS computer number ones and twos bracket. So that is four brackets with eight teams, all representing the dynamics of college football that make it sometimes irritating. Problem solved! They all play each other to find the eventual champion.
Mr. Hamas You can’t just create brackets!
Mr. Israel: These brackets don’t exist!
(They look at each other and smile)
Nola: They agreed! They’re in love! This calls for a drink! (Nola furiously shaking cocktails)
Nola: (hands to Mr Israel) Gazakame? (and then hands Mr.Hamas a drink with a shot inside) Car Bomb?
Barack: Nola!
(Mr.Hamas and Mr.Israel start to laugh with each other, clink glasses act as if they will down the drink and then dump the drinks out over their shoulders)
(amidst the cheering and celebration Vlad walks over to Nola and leans over her shoulder and whispers into her ear.)
Putin: Nola, if you come to Russia I will make you my princess.
Nola: (blushing) But I’m eight. Wouldn’t we get into trouble?
Putin: (laughing as he scoops her up into his arms) You are such a silly girl…Do you know how silly you are? Yes…you’ll come with me and we”ll live well.
Nola: We’ll vacation in Thailand. We won’t be bothered.
(Nola walks toward Barack, he leans into her ear)
Barack: Perfect. We’ll be in touch my Sweet Pretty Young Nola….
Nola: Tell your girls I’m going to miss them. They have to come visit okay.
Barack: Definitely.
Nola: Hey, O, what are we going to do about the BCS?
Barack: Oh…well, I guess we’ll just take the Championship out of it and call it what it is…BS.

No to the same old, same old. Yes to the same same, same same!!

Jules Winnfield speaks out against Prop 8: “What you gotta do is ask yourself ‘Is there some bad shit out there we ain’t lookin at? Is this bad shit badder than the shit I’m bout to vote against? And if it is badder shit, then shouldn’t we be out there worryin’ ‘bout that shit? I mean you got motherfuckerin kids settin some homeless motherfucka on fire for kicks. Motherfucker don’t even have a dollar for ice cream and these little badasses set him on fire. And you wanna tell me God is worried about two motherfuckers kissin’ up in his church? Love ain’t ever bad shit, man. The baddest shit is that love ain’t tolerated. We tolerate some fucked up motherfuckers. I mean my auntie Janisa once got into a fight with a church lady. razored her face. And now she’s up in that church every Sunday prayin’ for crazy bitches such as herself. I love my Auntie Janisa. I don’t think anyone should ever razor a face but I love my auntie. And if motherfuckers are worried about too much fuckin up the ass, it’s cuz they did it and liked it, more than a bitch.”

Wedding planners speak out against Prop 8: “I for one am very tired of planning straight weddings. Bor-ring! I’m tired of lying to the bride about her hideous color scheme.”
“ I’m tired of dealing with pregnant brides who can’t keep their emotions in check.”
“ I’m tired of having to dress up a venue that doubles as the ‘church’ and reception hall. “I’m tired of brides who buy from outlet malls.”
“I’m tired of BRIDES! Give me grooms. Grooms who have taste. Grooms who have well behaved children as their flower girls- not their own daughters born out of wedlock- which explains the quickly thrown together wedding!”

Henry Hasten of Statistically Speaking Magazine speaks out against Prop 8: “Statistically speaking, the sanctity of marriage is in danger of slipping into dangerously low approval ratings. With one out of every two marriages ending in divorce, people are starting to question the validity of marriage. The best way to improve the stats of marriage is to allow an influx of marriage. What we need is a marriage surge! So unless there is a surge in unplanned pregnancies, the only other option is to allow gays to marry, ugh, statistically speaking.”

Ted Haggard (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ted_Haggard)speaks out against Prop 8: “I now believe that God would want us all to be happy and be able to have conjugal visits from the man of our dreams.”

Not so nice, Nola speaks out against Prop 8: “Some people argue that gay marriage is detrimental to society. I don’t agree, but, let’s just say I did (which I don’t) but if I did, I would have to say that there are a few (thousand) more pressing detriments to society. And all, save one (see if you can spot it) are accepted and legal in America; no questions asked- and by questions I mean put to a vote- …. I’ll list just a few: Michael Jackson (Yeah, I said it. Just like Katt Williams: Fuck Michael!) . Roman Polanski. Americans who finance everything. Kids having kids. Scientology. Religion. Fast food. Straight men who just want their mothers. Straight women who let men have their mothers. Girls that don’t say no. Fat girls who put down skinny girls. Skinny girls who put down fat girls (Girls, fat and thin, we must unite! We must fight the true enemy: Fat and skinny boys!) Reality shows. Rockstar. Oscar De La La La LA Hoya and his music career, The lack of any regulations on bands in L.A.- why is that just anyone can start a band? Myspace. Facebook. Mustaches, CNN, MSNBC, The View, Tyra, Dog Strollers, Malibu (Barbie, city, liquor) Words such as-Chillax, like, stoked, fubar, fupa, muffin top. PDidddy, Sean Combs, Puffy, People who don’t take off their Bluetooth devices, boys who think they are great in bed, boys who call girls ‘opinionated’, women lying about size not mattering (it does! It matters how small our waist is and how big your dick is!) Jaegermeister, Men calling women sluts on Halloween because they have finally dressed up the way men have been hoping they would dress up all year!, Dr. Phil, Oprah’s book club, The Jonas Brothers, small children, Food Network, Herpes, Hugo Chavez, Kim Jong and his creepy demeanor, a quarter of the governments in Africa, Half of the South, most of California, Songs like Grillz, The thong song, and any song that starts with Diddy proclaiming ‘this is the remix’ . Any food sold as an “ultimate bowl”, Chris Matthews, Katie Couric and Bob Costas’ new little boy Frankenstein looking hairpiece, people who honk their horns more than once a week.
The list could go on forever. It’s all bad. We are alllllll baaaaadddddd. We are probably all going to hell, in a hand basket, woven no doubt by Oscar De La LA La La hoya!
But gay marriage is our BIG problem? How can we single out gay marriage as the flaw in an
already much too kinked chain? Like Jules said- “way badder shit out there than people lovin on each other”
I say gay marriage, just like Obama, might just be change we need. Everything else in America is f’ed. Maybe we should start with the reinstitution of marriage as an institution of love, faith and commitment. Heteros have had their crack-Let’s see what the gays do! I for one think it will be fabulous…. and if not, it should have been!
Dedicated to all my gay friends, in and out of their closets, everywhere!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And just so that i’m completely clear- HoneyBunny speaks out against Prop 8: “NO ON 8 OR I KILL EVERY LAST MOTHERFUCKIN’ONE OF YOU!!! “
 
 
 

(CONTINUED FROM ABOVE BLOG (NO TO THE SAME OLD, SAME OLD, YES TO THE SAME SAME, SAME SAME):

 

EXIT POLLS, SOAPBOXES and FIREARMS! Don’t it smell like an election…….

Asked outside of his polling station in Bell Gardens Precinct 123672aa how the vote went, Jules had the following response: “Vote? Motherfuckas wouldn’t let me in the mothefuckin community center. What kind of motherfuckin community center got metal detectors. And why are those motherfuckers on during an election? What? Is a motherfucka gonna run up in his own polling station and shoot up some motherfuckas votin for the same shit? Little woman over there wouldn’t even let my ass through the door. No on eight, Motherfuckas.”

 

We caught up with one of our wedding planners making a mad dash to her car outside the Manhattan Beach polling station and she had this to say: “I wasn’t registered! Can you believe that? I’ve been so busy registering these stupid, idiotic brides at Target, I forgot all about registering myself. (looks at watch) Damn. And now I have to get all the way out to Encino in an hour to pick up some doves for a six o’clock wedding. I’m not going to make it! Bye, (shouts back as she runs off) Please vote No on 8–I hate doves!!!!!!!”

 

Henry Hasten, sitting on the curb outside his downtown polling station, had this to say: “What were the odds that they would have lost my mail in registration. I mean the odds were in my favor. I know they were. I suspect this has something to do with an interview I gave to one Nola Shumway a few days ago. No on eight. Statistically speaking, we still have a chance.”

Ted Haggard speaking from Sacramento State Prison: “I had no idea we weren’t able to vote. I’m hopeful though. I’m leading prayer tonight so I’m going to have to cut this short. No on 8! It’s never too late to come out in support of that which is your truest nature. And god loves everyman!

Wait a gosh darn sec! You mean to tell me, or more appropriately, I mean to tell you that not one of our Fiesty ferocious do gooders voted on Prop 8?

Wait! What about Nola? Where is she? Where’s Nola?

We now join Nola Shumway at her polling place somewhere in the vicinity of Pico and Robertson on the westside of Los Angeles…

We find Miss Shumway standing in the center of a local community center, on a hand painted crate that says SOAP screaming into a megaphone: “And let me tell you sum’tin else!!! Anyone who has ever benefited from civil rights legislation owes us a vote. Any lame ass comedian who has pulled out a gay joke for an easy laugh owes us a vote. And for that matter, for poisoning the world with your stupid comedy, you owe us a two vote minimum. Any man who’s ever said ‘That’s gay’ owes us a vote. You all owe us a vote and today we collect! Ain’t that right HoneyBunny? No on 8! Pay up you freeloaders!!.”

Nola is immediately escorted outside and we catch up with her just as they are about to put her in the squad car. “Okay, okay, maybe the soapbox was a little much, but come on! You’re telling me this shirt (Nola is wearing a grey shirt that reads “it’s okay to be an ass today”) is a problem? What, Is it against the law to try to persuade voters at the polls? (Nola is told it is) Fine, but in my defense it’s not like that lady isn’t doing the same thing. (camera pans over to a slightly overweight woman who is reading a tabloid, drinking a McDonald’s latte and humming a Rascal Flatts song.) She should be escorted out as well! She is just as obviously trying to persuade voters!” (Nola is tucked into the car and as they drive away she screams silently through the back window no on eight, no on eight, this is an injustice, I’ll say hello to Ted for you…….”

 

So kids, what’s the moral of this very convoluted story? The moral is that it is not enough to be passionate about a cause. You have to act. VOTE! Vote because Jules, Wedding planners, Henry, Ted and Nola didn’t.

But what about HoneyBunny? Where in God’s hell is that H.B. (heinous bitch)

Oh- your story teller forgot– HoneyBunny didn’t vote. She was busy filming a reshoot for her last scene in a previous blog:

On a sound stage somewhere in the Valley HoneyBunny enters polling station and with guns out screams at the frightened voters: “everybody vote no on eight or I execute every last motherfuckin one of ya………..

Exit polls, firearms and soapboxes! Don’t it smell like an election?

CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS BLOG (NO TO THE SAME OLD, SAME OLD, YES TO THE SAME SAME, SAME SAME)……..

Asked outside of his polling station in Bell Gardens Precinct 123672aa how the vote went, Jules had the following response: “Vote? Motherfuckas wouldn’t let me in the mothefuckin community center. What kind of motherfuckin community center got metal detectors. And why are those motherfuckers on during an election? What? Is a motherfucka gonna run up in his own polling station and shoot up some motherfuckas votin for the same shit? Little woman over there wouldn’t even let my ass through the door. No on eight, Motherfuckas.”

We caught up with one of our wedding planners making a mad dash to her car outside the Manhattan Beach polling station and she had this to say: “I wasn’t registered! Can you believe that? I’ve been so busy registering these stupid, idiotic brides at Target, I forgot all about registering myself. (looks at watch) Damn. And now I have to get all the way out to Encino in an hour to pick up some doves for a six o’clock wedding. I’m not going to make it! Bye, (shouts back as she runs off) Please vote No on 8–I hate doves!!!!!!!”

Henry Hasten, sitting on the curb outside his downtown polling station, had this to say: “What were the odds that they would have lost my mail in registration. I mean the odds were in my favor. I know they were. I suspect this has something to do with an interview I gave to one Nola Shumway a few days ago. No on eight. Statistically speaking, we still have a chance.”

Ted Haggard speaking from Sacramento State Prison: “I had no idea we weren’t able to vote. I’m hopeful though. I’m leading prayer tonight so I’m going to have to cut this short. No on 8! It’s never too late to come out in support of that which is your truest nature. And god loves everyman!

Wait a gosh darn sec! You mean to tell me, or more appropriately, I mean to tell you that not one of our Fiesty ferocious do gooders voted on Prop 8?

Wait! What about Nola? Where is she? Where’s Nola?

We now join Nola Shumway at her polling place somewhere in the vicinity of Pico and Robertson on the westside of Los Angeles…

We find Miss Shumway standing in the center of a local community center, on a hand painted crate that says SOAP screaming into a megaphone: “And let me tell you sum’tin else!!! Anyone who has ever benefited from civil rights legislation owes us a vote. Any lame ass comedian who has pulled out a gay joke for an easy laugh owes us a vote. And for that matter, for poisoning the world with your stupid comedy, you owe us a two vote minimum. Any man who’s ever said ‘That’s gay’ owes us a vote. You all owe us a vote and today we collect! Ain’t that right HoneyBunny? No on 8! Pay up you freeloaders!!.”

Nola is immediately escorted outside and we catch up with her just as they are about to put her in the squad car. “Okay, okay, maybe the soapbox was a little much, but come on! You’re telling me this shirt (Nola is wearing a grey shirt that reads “it’s okay to be an ass today”) is a problem? What, Is it against the law to try to persuade voters at the polls? (Nola is told it is) Fine, but in my defense it’s not like that lady isn’t doing the same thing. (camera pans over to a slightly overweight woman who is reading a tabloid, drinking a McDonald’s latte and humming a Rascal Flatts song.) She should be escorted out as well! She is just as obviously trying to persuade voters!” (Nola is tucked into the car and as they drive away she screams silently through the back window no on eight, no on eight, this is an injustice, I’ll say hello to Ted for you…….”

So kids, what’s the moral of this very convoluted story? The moral is that it is not enough to be passionate about a cause. You have to act. VOTE! Vote because Jules, Wedding planners, Henry, Ted and Nola didn’t.

But what about HoneyBunny? Where in God’s hell is that H.B. (heinous bitch)

Oh- your story teller forgot– HoneyBunny didn’t vote. She was busy filming a reshoot for her last scene in a previous blog:

On a sound stage somewhere in the Valley HoneyBunny enters polling station and with guns out screams at the frightened voters: “everybody vote no on eight or I execute every last motherfuckin one of ya………..