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The BartCop Reader


Volume 402 - Sussudio

February 7, 2001

 I caught Laura the Unloved lying again today.

 It's not hard, all you have to do is listen.
 She was trying to coax something out of a caller and she pulled a Connie Chung,
 telling the caller "it's just between you and me - and 20,000,000 eavesdroppers."

 Uh, ...Laura, you don't HAVE 20,000,000 listeners.
 Oh, over a week's time you might accumulate that many listeners, but telling
 a caller there are 20,000,000 eavesdroppers is just flat-out lying.

 You know what your numbers are, this isn't a crime of ignorance.
 You're deliberately exaggerating the number of listeners by 500 percent.

 ...and I remember how you got onto Al Gore for exaggerating about going on a trip
 with that Stevens guy from FEMA, because after taking 20 trips with him,
 Gore confused the Texas trip - which he took with Steven's assistant.

 But when you exaggerate, slut, you're deliberately lying FIVE FOLD.

 Don't you think you owe your easily-led sheep an apology, Laura?


Subject: Urgent Prayers For Tom Cruise

I have an urgent bulletin, which I knew all of my loyal acolytes would want to know about.
I have just this moment put down the phone after a conversation with a rather chilly Mrs. Tom Cruise.
She told me the most personal things.
So, naturally, the only thing I could think to do was hold a press conference out of Christian concern.

You can read about it here:

So close to Jesus, we always sing "I Got You Babe" at Karaoke,

Mrs. Betty Bowers

 Who can figure?

 When a Republican intentionally steals millions, he pays a fine.
 When Clinton is partners with a guy who MAY HAVE done something wrong,
 he's hounded for eight years because the Democrats don't have the balls to stand up.
 This is from 1991.

 Fair and reasonable?
 Paying back 1/4 of what they stole?
 Oh, I forgot - Clinton's cock was not involved,
 so they let Kneel have the extra $150 million.

 For more, Click  Here

Rush in Peace
Feingold’s big mistake

 Click  Here


Subject: Bart, They Are Hoaxes!!

The quotes from that guy on this page:

are bullshit -- Clinton never said them, I've seen this before.
I am trying to find the proof for you now.

Steve Murphy

The quotes sounded "funny" to me,
but I don't think the guy who sent them was trying to trick anybody.

 February 7th, the anniversary of the day I broke my femur.
 I can't see that date and not have the weird flashbacks.
 Had to itch in that body cast from February until August.

 ...and people wonder how I can stand to listen to the vulgar Pigboy.

 ha ha

 After you've had a broken femur (twice) and lost $40,000 in a rock club
 and get out without filing bankruptcy, day-to-day problems are easy to laugh at.

 I recommend everyone break a femur at age 16 - then buy a rock club.

Wesley Snipes at center of Vegas casino fracas

LOS ANGELES (Launch) - Wesley Snipes took his on-screen action persona a little too seriously
recently at Las Vegas' Mandalay Bay Hotel and Casino. On Jan. 25, the 38-year-old star of "Blade"
and "The Art of War," was playing cards in the wee hours of the night when hotel personnel informed
him that he would have to change his room because of a reservations error. Snipes reportedly verbally
assaulted the hotel representatives and began fighting with hotel security. The martial arts-trained actor
was eventually subdued by hotel security and escorted to the casino's holding pen.

From the Las Vegas Review-Journal.

I'm with Wesley on this one.
In the wee hours, they tell a big star there's a reservations problem with his room?
Hey, tell the dumb sombitch who wants my room he can fight me for it.
(Wesley has a black belt.)


Subject: Another bullshit investigation

Dear Hammer-thrower,

I'm having a hard time understanding why Arlen Specter is wasting taxpayer dollars on investigating
Mark Rich's pardon.  Article 2, section 2 of the Constitution says that the President "...shall have power
to grant reprieves and pardons for offenses against the United States, except in cases of impeachment."

As far as I know, Mark Rich hasn't been impeached for anything, so even if Bill Clinton came out tomorrow
and said that he traded the pardon for blow jobs from Denise Rich, there could be no legal repercussions.

The sole purpose of any investigation is to further tarnish the Clintons politically.
Haven't we already spent close to $70million doing that?


This is a tough time for the GOFP.
Going for Clinton's cock was the glue that held them together.
Now, Fredo is in charge and they have no purpose, no direction.

Soon, Hillary and Harold Ickes will clear things up for them.

This Just In...

 Suicide at the White House!

 We can only hope...
 Gee, I thought he'd last at least 30 days.

Ex-'Survivor' claims her exit was rigged
CBS denies show was manipulated to keep Rudy

America's top TV show came under fire Monday when a former contestant on last year's Survivor
filed suit against its producer, claiming he engineered her ouster and ''orchestrated'' the show's outcome.

In a 14-page lawsuit filed in San Francisco County Superior Court, Stacey Stillman -- a practicing attorney
-- says producer Mark Burnett ''improperly abused his relationships with the contestants.''

She says he persuaded two of them, Sean Kenniff and Dirk Been, to vote her off the show instead
of Rudy Boesch in the series' third episode, ''thereby rigging the contest.'' CBS also is named as a defendant.

Stillman alleges that Burnett wanted to keep Boesch, 72, in the cast, fearing criticism if the first three
contestants to be removed also were the oldest. Boesch became one of four finalists for the $1 million prize,
which was won by Richard Hatch in a finale seen by52 million viewers.

''By picking and choosing who stays and who goes, that affects the alliances that form, and ultimately the outcome,''
Stillman told USA TODAY.

She says CBS violated federal law against game-show rigging that was expanded in the wake of the 1950s
scandal over the NBC quiz show Twenty-One.  CBS denies the charges, which were first detailed last year
by author Peter Lance in a book that said producers manipulated the show.

''They had no merit then; they have no merit now that she has packaged them into a frivolous and groundless lawsuit,''
the network said in a statement.

Well, ...this can't be true.
The dignity of the network is at stake.
Why, if this turned out to be all phony, that would mean CBS was just in this
for the money and the spirit of competition wasn't the prevailing attitude on this show.


If they're going to rig our goddamn elections,
why should we expect some dumb-ass TV show to be any different?

 Guess who wants out of the doghouse?

 "I don't really support Bush, but I hope we get some good, right-wing,
  Manson-hating people in office that I can really piss off."
   -- Marilyn Manson, now that his boy has been appointed president.
       and he's become a symbol of the establishment government.

 Got my new Rolling Stone subscription
  (Don't be jealous, I'm not going to pay them)

 They had some Nonaugural notes:

 Watching Smirk celebrate his inaugural was like
 seeing Fredo take over the Corleone Family.

 ha ha

 Here's a grab-a-bucket line from evening's recount:

 In the Deep South, there was Rosa Parks.
 In India, there was Mother Teresa.
 and in Florida, there was Kathleen Harris.
 -- that gem by Larry Gatlin of the Gatlin brothers.
 (I guess that means the Mandrell Sisters were booked in Tunica)

 Rolling Stone says it was "just as bad as it could possibly be."
 They said Destiny's Child did an audience participation thing where nobody participated.
 When Destiny's Child said,

 When I say 'George,' you say 'Bush.'
 So she said 'George' and the crowd said  "_ _ _ _."
 So once again, she screamed 'George' and the crowd said "_ _ _ _ ."

 They said it kept getting worse with every performer.
 When Jessica Simpson sang, she proclained,
 "Since this is the inaugural, and we all love George Bush,
   I think we should sing, 'George, I think that I'm in love with you.'"

...and nobody sang.

Can you imagine that?

Swear to Koresh, page 14, RS says,
"When Bush himself made a surprise appearance,
 he could barely keep the smirk off his face."

<big sigh>

America, America, God shed his rage on thee.

It's Not Easy

I get mail saying, "BartCop, why do the titles of your back issues suck so bad?"

I guess I should just plead guilty to that charge.
I know it tlooks easy, but it's hard thinking up a good title for each issue.
Koresh, last issue was #400, and the best I could come up with was"He Hate Me."

The last title I was proud of was way back in Vol 092 - Whale-Bopp
It's not easy coming up with clever titles.
Well, let me tell you a long story that I'll try to shorten for you.

In 1983, Robert Plant was planning his first tour as a solo artist. He produced an album in 1981,
but he didn't want to tour with only a 45 minute show since he was determined not to do any
of his Zeppelin material. By 1983, he had two albums out and was ready to tour.

Before the Internet, it was damn hard to get any kind of information about anything.
Trying to find a list of tour dates meant buying printed-months-ago music magazines
or maybe getting lucky hearing something on the radio.

We found out Plant's first solo gig ever was going to be in Chicago, so we grabbed this & that
and took off up Route 66 to Chicago.  We went thru St Louis, stopping of course for Imo's Pizza
and some fantastic Ted Drewes Frozen Custard (Grand Ave only - watson road isn't as good.)
So anyway, we hurry on to Chicago and start detecting. We needed tickets, we needed a motel,
we needed to know the venue we needed to search the FM dial for the real rock stations for
last-minute news, local stations doing interviews, etc.

We settled in some dingy Travelodge near the gig.
Somehow, we took a cab to Rush Street, downtown, which is a hundred bars all strung together.
After dancing to some hot Michael Jackson and Culture Club on the disco floor,
(remember, we are not under oath here) we got tired and needed a cab to get back to the hotel.
We got a fun old black cabbie, and he was eager to have a conversation.

Figuring he knew the town as well as anybody, I asked him where he'd be staying tonight
 if he had a million dollars cash in his pocket.

"It's hard to say," he said. "Chicago have a lot of fabulous hotel."

ha ha
This guy was so cool.

"But if I had a million dollars, I'd stay at the Ambassador Hotel tonight."
(That hotel name is a guess, backed up by recent anecdotal evidence.)

So we remembered that - the Ambassador Hotel.

Day Two: the day of the show.

First thing we did was to check out the venue. It's always possible to get a glimpse
or maybe even an autograph or conversation. (Like my interview with U2's The Edge)
We saw plenty of trucks and three custom, luxury busses with airbrushed exteriors,
but we never actually saw Plant or the band.

Swear to Koresh, this really happened: While we were wandering around aimlessly,
a black dude in a red knit cap walked up and asked me if I needed any "boo."
What I needed was tickets, but not being familiar with the language in Chicago, I asked
this young fella what "boo" was.  He was holding a funnily-folded newspaper in his hand
and he opened it to show me what seemed to be about a pound of pot.
[Confession: I'd seen a pound of pot before]
I assured him I was "OK," in that area and he wandered on to other people.

We did a little recon and noted the likely escape routes for the limos after the gig.
We also got to hear the soundcheck, which was cool.
The pre-show warm up for the first solo show ever.

Pretty soon it was showtime!
Robert Plant's first show was hot.
The whole town was hot.

Unlike K-Drag, many big cities celebrate when a major artist is in town.
Some FM stations actually play some songs by the visiting artist to set the mood.
(Some FM stations are so cool, they have people call in the concert's song list,
as it's being played, and the station plays those studio cuts, in order, to simulate the concert
for the poor bastards who couldn't afford the tickets - that's serving the damn community

I forget who the backup band was, there must've been one.
A short intermission, and then Plant hit the stage and he was smokin'.

Pledge Pin

Fat Lip

Horizontal Departure

and the Wagnerian epic Slow Dancer

What a show!

We were straight for the show (no alcohol) so we could chase the band after the gig.
The recon we did earlier in the day paid off.  Right after the gig, the band jumped in
a white van (no limo?) and it sped them to the downtown Ambassador Hotel

We were the only ones chasing them, and we were surprised that the van ran stoplight
after stoplight trying to lose us. We finally hit a light that was too-long red to run.
When it turned green again, we sped to the corner we saw them at and turned and there they were.
No Robert Plant, (remind me to tell you about the three times we did meet him)
but his band was moving quickly from the van into the Ambassador front lobby.

Well, we figured if we'd found the band, we should continue to press our luck.
We parked the car and walked in the hotel like Marc Perkel.
Mrs. BartCop's sharp eyes saw a fancy sign that said "Voodoo Room" or whatever
the name of their fancy nightclub was, so we followed the sign down a hall.

We finally came to a tall, blond dude with a beard.
He said we needed jackets to get into his fancy club.
We don't need no stinking jackets!
He said I had to have a jacket to get inside, and I had no jacket.

Figuring the band would also have no jackets, we asked Sven if there was a Bohemian bar.
He said yes and pointed.
So we go into this spillover bar for the unwashed, which was still too fancy for my tastes.
The place was dead empty, so Mrs BartCop and I took a seat at the snooty bar.
The bow-tie-wearing bartender seemed put out by our street-bum appearance, but fuck him.

Being experienced in bar swindles, I asked if he had Kahlua.
(If you don't specify, they'll give you Tia Maria - a.k.a. Brown Cuervo.
 Gag me!
 My favorite is when you complain, they bring out the bottle of Kahlua to prove they have one,
 as if that's proof of what they put in my glass, so to prevent the entire bru-ha-ha from developing,
 I mention the Kahlua up front, so if they bring the other crap, I have successfully laid my
 groundwork for a prima facia case of fraud and possibly depraved indifference.

So, I tell Cubby we need a White Russian for the Mrs, a black one for me.
He makes a decent drink - gotta give him that - then he says, "That'll be $9.99"
(That was a lot for two drinks 18 years ago).

Now, with my good Catholic math, I can't figure any way a White Russian and a Black Russian
can come to a total of $9.99, so I figure he's tasking me - fucking with me - if you will.
Fine, Cubby.
I threw him a ten and told him to keep the change.

So we're sitting there enjoying our respective Russians when Plant's drummer walks in.
He was a short, English fellow with a round, blank face.
He was in the same mood I was, because apparently Sven told him HE couldn't get in
the "Voodoo Room" without a jacket so he, too, declined the invitation.

Seeing my chance, before they sat down I ask the drummer if I could buy him and his
very English friend a drink. In a classy move, he says, "No, but I'll buy you a drink."
He spoke the kind of English you can mostly understand, but not totally.

So the four of us had a seat and before I can say anything, Drumboy brings up the jacket thing
and says he thought it was a something rule, (bullocks?)  ...I didn't catch the word.
I saw my chance to make a funny, and said, "At these prices, the drinks should wear jackets."

Drumboy thought that was funny.
"The drinks should wear jackets? - ha ha, " and it struck me that I made an English guy laugh.
(You know how those English are with their funny humor.)

So between gulps of Kahlua and vodka, we told him we really liked the show. I didn't ask him where
Plant was because we knew he generally retires for some private honeydripping after a show and I
didn't want the drummer to think we were using him to meet "the star," so we thanked him for the drinks
and got out of there before we wore out our welcome.

We made our way to the car and back to the Travelodge.
Got up early the next morning and headed back to dusty K-Drag - but there's something else...

Sorry, I lost my train, I was telling you this long-ass for a reason...

Oh, ...that's right.

I started out saying how hard it is to think of good titles sometimes.
...that drummer in Chicago who was nice enough to buy our drinks?

His name was Phil, and 20 months later he released an album called No Jacket Required,
which was a pretty good album, but I thought the title really sucked.

So when people give me grief about my lame issue titles, I just remember that the big guys
who have years to think of a single title often call call their work something really unimaginative.

 Great Political Quotes

 Interior Secretary Norton favors "multiple use" for federal lands, arguing that
 radioactive mine trailings let endangered species glow in the dark and avoid dirt bikers.
  -- PJ O'Rourke

I was sent this...

Click  Here

...which purports to show how stupid the Smirk people are,
but isn't the official White House at

On Tonight's JAG

...they seemed to say that ordinary folk can link to the S.E.T.I. Project
 and hear the radio waves hitting Earth from outer space.
 (think First Contact with Jodie Foster)

 If you see that link, send it in, OK?
 I want the raw, audio feed from space.

 I don't want stories, explanations, theories, pictures, essays, tech manuals etc.
 I want the raw, raw audio feed, on JAG it had a graphic equalizer video with it.

 When the aliens broadcast their demands for our surrender
 let's not rely on the whore press to tell us what they said.

 Read the  Previous Issue
 It had everything - Boosler, Flynt, Sharon, Moonies and more Demo capitulation.

 Copyright © 2001,
   Thanks for the fumble, Dude.

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