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Mort!

Hurray! The budget gridlock is over! Dill pickles and snow cones for everyone! Wow, the last time I heard of anything this momentous taking this long to pass involved Robin Leach and a kidney stone the size of a baby sturgeon! The bad news nobody has mentioned: Half of that tax package is going to pay for the marathon special session required to create it.

Another catch: all the little additions and amenities tacked on to the final budget by legislators and special-interest groups. Just looking over the bill makes my faith in the political system shakier than Gary Busey's hands at a drug test. Sen. Mark Manendo added a provision creating Naughty Dorm Babes Webcam Day (Aug. 13, if you must know); Gov. Guinn threw in an item declaring Oct. 7 "Bob Beers Is a Butthole Day," while Assemblyman Bob Beers got Oct. 8 declared, "No, Gov. Guinn Is a Butthole Day"; another provision creates a $40 billion, cutting-edge aerospace research and design center in Gardnerville, courtesy of Assemblyman Lynn Hettrick; finally, there's a proclamation affirming Metamucil Citrus Spritzer as "an indispensable part of this complete breakfast," thanks to Senate Majority Leader Bill Raggio.

But wait, there's more! Just to give you an idea of how far out of hand this special session had gotten, let's take a look at who else weighed in on the final budget. Mort deployed his extra-strength reading goggles and was shocked at what power and influence celebrities in this state wield! For instance, what's up with this language slipped into the bill by Celine Dion requiring all Nevadans to see "A New Day" at least twice a week? Where are those 15 Assembly holdouts now? And then there's this easy-to-miss item, added by R. Kelly, lowering the state's age of consent to--surprise--13. Gee, I wonder who wrote this bit declaring Sandra Murphy and Rick Tabish "totally super ultra innocent"? Also, somehow, Simon Cowell got his hands on the bill and tacked on an amendment, titled, "This Is Not 1978," requiring all legislators to update their wardrobes. And of course, Mike Tyson must've penned this final addition that...well, I don't know what it's significance is. It's just a big X scrawled in blood.

Now if only one of these enterprising would-be pols would outlaw this weather--it's gotten so bad I'm actually considering giving up my black kneesocks! But at least I'm not sweating like President Bush. All I gotta do is scare up a cold drink or turn on the A-C; he's gotta find himself a cache of weapons of mass destruction before he can get comfortable. Ciao!