CSI: Omaha. The show were we see intrepid

CSI: Omaha. The show were we see intrepid scientists wheel about in their office chairs and play Canasta. The lead investigator stares out the window and waits and waits...

for retirement. The phone rang. Startled, he answered. "Hello CSI? There's been a suspicious accident on the set of Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom, Marlin Perkins was gored by a Bore

“No Sanders, not a Boar, a b-o-r-e, like your boss, Jim Brass. No, Jim didn’t gore Marlin Perkins, it was another bore…how do I know? Look, just get over here!” When CSI arrived

to primetime all dramas became cop dramas. It was crap. It was boring. Jim Brass, (AKA "Brass Tacks") was trying to keep his job at Paramount. He'd had a slew of no-hits

&, alternatively, medical dramas which all had the same old schtick of some doctor with all the personality of a slapped ass. Jim Brass needed a starring role, not cop & med shows

, something with class. "How about I stand in front of a green screen and compliment people?" Jim Brass suggested. The Comedy Central exec said, "I'm gonna need 3 racist jokes per

episode and if we're not being boycotted by at least two accredited human rights group by the end of the first season, you're fired." I was confident I could meet Comedy Central's

mandate. I wrote the most obnoxiously funny monologues imaginable for Comedy Central, annihilating human rights groups like Amnesty Intl., the Alliance for Women, & CryptoRights. I

joined the George C Marshall Institute where I lobbied for increased use CFCs, denied global warming and denied the carcinogenic nature of smoking tobacco. I mastered denying every

thing until I met Death with her slathering wolves at a crossroads one day. She said "You're dead." I said "No, I'm not." Death just walked away.