PLAYING CATCH-UP - PART 1 Depending on whether or not you're an 800-pound agoraphobe with social anxiety disorder for whom the Daily Dirt is your sole source of news and information, you may or may not be aware that yer old pal Jerky has recently skipped over some mighty intriguing stories which he normally would have torn into with carnivorous gusto. Sleaze that would make perfect Dirt fodder - and, as a consequence, information that you desperately need to know - has latterly been falling by the wayside, victim to any number of editorial hobgoblins. From yer old pal Jerky's recent health woes, to the recent record-breaking blackout, to sheer denial at the monstrous implications of that which has recently come to pass… my reasons (excuses?) for ignoring/avoiding/missing many of the stories in question are legion, and would be difficult to pin down in the space allotted me in this forum. Plus, they aren't that interesting. Suffice it to say that this "Playing Catch-Up" edition of the Daily Dirt is yer old pal Jerky's attempt at filling in the gaps for future generations, for whom I hope the Daily Dirt archives will serve as the definitive record of life as it is being lived in these most interesting of times. *** **** *** THE GROWING PILE OF CORPSES! ~ Ever since the "accidental" and eerily similar pre-election plane crash deaths of Democratic Senators Mel Carnahan and Paul Wellstone, as well as the "suicides" of Fortunate Son author James Hatfeild and would-be Enron bean-spiller J. Clifford Baxter - not to mention myriad other strange goings on, related and unrelated - yer old pal Jerky has been unable to shake the sneaking suspicion that there's more to the quartz precision timing of all these accidents and suicides than just Preznit Dubya's dumb luck. And yet, despite all that grisly precedent, even a stone-cold paranoid like yer old pal Jerky was taken aback by the naked blatancy of the Kelly affair. Dr David Kelly, a Brit weapons scientist with top level security clearance and unfettered access to all the weapons-related intel gathered by his countrymen in the lead-up to the war on Iraq, was found dead in the woods behind his home after it was revealed that he was the inside source for a BBC report on the Blair government's "sexing up" of claims about Iraq's "weapons programmes," and most specifically the infamous "Saddam could hit Europe with chemical weapons in 45 minutes" rubbish claim. Kelly's revelations nearly brought down the British government, and may yet cost Tony Blair his cushy civil service gig, as well as his spread at 10 Downing. He went out for a woodsy ramble in the pouring rain, with four heart monitor electrodes still stuck to his chest. He warned of "dark actors, playing games." Despite the fact that his friends and family say he was in relatively good spirits, he allegedly hacked open his own left wrist with a pocket knife, then sat there and bled to death. The government claimed he was "stressed" at being outted as the source for the BBC's stories, and that his death was therefore a clear cut case of suicide. Seriously. Stop laughing. But where the sinister implications and nefarious extrapolations generated by the Kelly affair are plain, clear and obvious, the case of Colin McMillan provides no easy entry-points, raises no immediate suspicions. Nothing but the fundamental weirdness of a wealthy Texas oil tycoon - a loving husband and father of four who'd just been hand-picked by Preznit Dubya to run the Navy - putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger. Unfortunately, the Bush Body Count people have stopped keeping track of Bush-related deaths - admittedly something of a full-time job these days - so you're going to have to keep watching this space for updates. *** **** *** ATTACK OF THE FLYBOY! ~ Some miraculous prodigies weep blood and speak fluently in tongues they were never taught. Others exhibit stigmatic echoes of the wounds of Jesus Christ. For more than two weeks earlier this summer, 13-year-old Chandan Goswami of West Bengal had full-grown winged insects flying out of his penis, the result of a bizarre and exceedingly rare type of parasitic infection of the bladder. Kinda makes your skin crawl to think of it, but you know, if this kid had played his cards right, he would be head guru at a brand-new Ashram right now, raking in wads of dough from gullible starlets and dim-witted "searchers" who might view his vile infestation as something beautiful and worthy of reverence… like this disease was symbolic of his power as a "hermaphroditic giver of life" or something. He could have given that ridiculous pick-pocket scam artist Sai Baba a run for his money! *** **** *** That's it for today. Tomorrow, we will conclude our back-tracking look at the stories Jerky forgot to cover the FIRST time around! Send all Jokes, Letters and other stuff to Jerky: feedback@dailydirt.com

ON THESE DAYS! August 20 On this day in 1913, contrary to the cowardly reputation of his countrymen, Adolphe Pegoud - a Frenchman - becomes the first person dumb enough to test-drive a parachute. It works. On this day in 1940, Soviet secret agent Frank Jackson pulls the old "icepick to the forehead" trick on the prolific communist intellectual-in-exile (and constant thorn in Stalin's side) Leon Trotsky in his heavily-guarded Mexican safehouse. On this day in the year 1986, mailman Patrick Sherrill arrives for work at the Edmund, Oklahoma (pop. 35,000) Post Office, pulls out a gun and starts to pick off his co-workers one-by-one. Sherrill's rampage leaves 14 people dead, and forever cements the public perception of postal workers as being two rounds short of a full clip. On this day in 1982, President Ronald Reagan orders 800 U.S. Marines to join a multinational force in Beirut, where they were supposed to help oversee the Palestinian withdrawal from Lebanon, where a fierce civil war between Muslim and Christian militias had been raging for seven years. Seventeen months and 262 dead Marines later, Reagan decides to pull out and send our battle-weary soldiers on a working vacation in beautiful downtown Grenada! What a nice gesture from the Gipper!

THEY SAID IT! "I love it. Now, the biggest singer in America, Eminem, is trailer trash. Soon, the whole country will be living in an RV." - During an interview with Blender music magazine, legendary punk rocker and former trailer park denizen Iggy Pop is asked how he feels about the phrase "trailer trash." Yer old pal Jerky greatly enjoyed his reply. *** **** *** "We will bring the weapons and, of course... w-we will bring the information forward on the weapons when they find them. And that will end up - end all this speculation." - An interesting verbal flub from a stammering Preznit Dubya during a press conference with Tony "Dead Man Walking" Blair this week. This probably has something to do with the reptilian Bob Novak's recent revelation that Pentagon "inspectors" have experienced weapons-search "successes" that are "planned to be revealed to the public in mid-September," because, as we all know thanks to White House Cheif of Staff Andrew Card: "from a marketing standpoint, you don't roll out a new product in August." (No shit... he said it!) So yer old pal Jerky is wondering... is it possible that they finally figured out a way to plant WMD in Iraq without getting caught?

JOKES! Today's first jokes were sent in by our old pal Patricia Kruger. Q: How many canaries can you fit under a Scotsman's kilt? A: Depends on the size of the perch. Q: Why do Scotsmen wear kilts? A: Because sheep can hear zippers. Q: How do Scotsmen find sheep in tall grass? A: Veeeeeeeery satisfying. *** *** *** Thanks to our old pal ZigZag for sending in today's second joke. A guy is at his parents and he goes into the kitchen where his mother is stirring a pot of stew. "Uh, Mom?" He says nervously. "Yes dear?" His old mother says, stirring the pot. "I... uh... I got something to tell you." "What's that dear?" The guy sighs and takes a deep breath. "Mom, I want you to know...I'm gay." His Mom doesn't respond for a moment but tastes the stew. "Gay?" She says, "does that mean you let another man put his thing in your mouth?" "Er... yeah, yeah it does Mom. Sometimes." She thinks about this for a moment then suddenly WHACK, smacks him across the head with the ladle and says; "Don't you EVER complain about the taste of my stew again!" WORST JOKE OF THE DAY Today's worst joke was sent in by MC HARDCORE. Or is it McHardcore? Yer old pal Jerky can't be sure. An Australian bloke figures that he could make some extra cash by starting a chicken farm. He goes to the nearest pet store and asks for 100 small chicks. Three days later he returns to the store and asks for another 100 small chicks. Again, a few days later he requests another 100 small chicks. The pet store owner is amazed, "You must have one hell of a chicken farm, mate!" The Aussie says "Nah, mate, it's fucked! None of me chicks are growin'! Maybe I don't plant 'em deep enough!"

ASK JERKY! Relationship troubles? Philosophical quandaries? Nagging doubts about your spouse? Jerky knows the answer! Send your letter to the feedback address at the bottom of the page: Hiya Jerky; Evolutionary pinnacle my ass! [this refers to Monday's They Said It, wherein Dr. Clive Bromhall was quoted as saying homosexuals are "the pinnacle of human evolution." - Jerky] As a gay guy and a Brit I have to ask my countryman Clive Bromhall: What kind of evolutionry pinnacle is unable to reproduce? I'd call him a cocksucker but that might give the wrong impression. Yours; Cineman Dear Cineman; The idea that homosexuals are "unable to reproduce" is patently absurd. One doesn't automatically become sterile once one decides that the opposite sex is the opposite of what one wants in a sex partner. Gay spermatozoa are just as ambitious, aggressive and capable of inseminating an ovum as are their breeder brethren. No, Cineman, when it comes to reproduction, the main difference between gays and straights is that the former view it as a duty, the latter as sport. *** **** *** Dear Jerky; I just wanted to express my utter disgust and anger to you for printing that vile piece of trash about some pervert's sick homoerotic fantasies involving G.W. Bush, the greatest president the U.S. has ever seen. You and whoever wrote that should be confined to a small prison cell and ass raped repeatedly by a black man with HIV and a 17” cock. Just kidding! I LOVED it! Thanks for having the balls to print that. [Tuesday's Soapbox - Jerky] It was both disturbing and funny as hell. Cheerz! Signed: Aaron P. Glad you enjoyed it, Aaron! We'll try our best to continue living down to our readers' worst expectations of us.

READER'S SOAPBOX! Got a gripe? Pet peeve? Have your say in the Daily Dirt! Columns can pretty much be about anything, as long they meet the following criteria: 1) don't write shit that'll get us in trouble. 2) Keep it interesting. 3) Keep it short. 4) We don't edit your mistakes. Oh yeah! feel free to send a picture of yourself if you want. TOPIC: T R U E'S BIG BLACKOUT ADVENTURE: PART TWO! Care of: T R U E one of the things that i have always craved in my constant search for adventure was the opportunity to scale the suspension cables of the bk bridge to see the view from the top. it struck me that with the spotlights off and the cops busy, that there was probably never going to be another opportunity as ripe as that nite was, so i locked the bike up, sat at the base of the suspension cable til passersby has passed by, then started my ascent. u may or may not have noticed, but on this 18" diamter cable (that is flanked by two 1" 'rail' cables) about 30 feet from the base is a gate designed specifically to keep people like me from doing what i was doing. but ever since the 1st time the idea popped into my head of scaling the bridge, i observed that gate & saw that all one would have to do is climb out & around it. it would mean leaving the cable that is the walkway, but nothing more difficult than climbing a tree. so i get to this gate, start making my way around it, & my feet slip... i'm grabbing on to the bars of the gate and swinging my dangling feet around to the other side trying to get a foothold. i manage to pull myself around to the other side and can now continue my ascent to the top of the bridge. there are few feelings in the world like having to manually override one's inherent instinctual urge to steer clear of those things which would cause certain death. being 200' above the walkway, and another GOD only knows how many more feet of a drop to the water, with only the top edge of an 18" cable between me & a horrific and painful death was one of those moments. occasionally, my fearful imaginings would rear their heads and i'd freeze up. with 200 feet of cable behind me and another 100 in front of me, i had to tell myself something that applies to many of my everyday tasks & responsibilities: whether i like it or not, there are some things that just have to be dealt with, and there aint nothin to it but to do it. regardless of how i may have felt about it at that moment -- the reality was that i was hundreds of feet in the air with no quick way out... one way or another i would have to accept the consequences brought about by my decisions. "focus...defy fear...concentrate...it's just like walking on the ground..." one firmly placed step in front of the other & i made it to the top. looked over the edge. shot some video. remembered that ever since i was a kid, i've often had no problem getting up somewhere -- but can easily get freaked out by coming down. coming down was actually much easier than i had anticipated. like a walk thru the park. i started singing "tiptoe thru the tulips." made it almost to the walkway & thought i would swing out & jump down (merely walking the whole distance & stepping off seemed so anti-climactic). a couple minutes later a meter maid-style vehicle rode up on me. 2 cops asked, "u weren't just climbing up there, were ya?" me?? "someone said they saw u climbing up there..." looking over my shoulder to the cable & then back at them, i said, "i'm not *that* crazy..." riding home i felt i had the run of the city. i would bike down entire streets without cars or people... it felt like one of those movies where a bomb kills off the population but leaves the bldgs intact. it was a ghost town in which occasional disembodied voices would call out, "woo hoo! that bike is hot!" i tried to explain to one group that what i had done was nothing compared to the el-wire creations like the galloping horse at bm, but they, like most people i ran into, were just impressed since they had never seen anything like it. when i arrived back at home base, the sight of the candles i had left out felt so warm & welcoming. i lamented the fact that our daily lives would soon be back to normal. tomorrow, it wouldn't seem like a city-wide block party. tomorrow, sitting on the stoop wouldn't be reminiscent of summer camp, with the pitch darkness punctuated by laughing childrens' flashlites. tomorrow, i would be back on my computer, "talking" to a bunch of cyber avatars of people, instead of my neighbors who had retreated back into the air-conditioned "comfort" of their homes. i humbly submit a proposal to have a monthly nation-wide blackout. T R U E {Thanks for sharing your beautiful experience with your fellow Daily Dirt readers, T R U E. Yer old pal Jerky's own blackout experience wasn't quite so action-packed, but it was nearly as sublime. I enthusiastically offer up a "second" to your modest proposal. - Jerky]

Send all Jokes, Letters and other stuff to Jerky: feedback@dailydirt.com