The R.A.G. Files

Hollywood, NJ. When a famous asshole like Tom Crews starts dictating medical decisions to other celebrities, when he's done such a great job keeping a lid on his true self in order to promote the generic, boyish "nice guy" image that has got him his movie contracts. Of course, the Church of Scientology has been begging Tom to come out of the closet for many years and reveal his inner asshole, since thats what the church is all about. Recently the RAG Files sat down with Mr. Crews to discuss the finer points of the recent bad publicity he's earned himself, as well as his reglious beliefs, and the difficulties of being anal retentive awhile trying to nurture a career in Hollywood.

Rag Files: Mr. Crews, tell me how long have you hated women?

Tom Crews: Almost as long as I've been fucking them. Maybe even earlier. Its hard to tell. I don't hate them all though. The ones I can control are fine...if they're as hot as I am.

Rag: Is that what gave you the motivation to tell Brooke Shields that she shouldn't be using antidepressants for postpartum depression?

TC: She's not hot at all. Lets face it Hair-e, women are stupid and rarely know what's best for them. They haven't read the Scientology propaganda regarding psychiatry and so they don't know its all a farce. Except for Kirstie Allie, but she's fat and I don't do fat chicks. And Christ, I know she's in my church and all but I'm so sick of those goddamn Pier One commercials! Know what I mean? Shit, Cheers sucked from the minute she was on there. Not that Ted Dansen could ever act anyway, but I digress...

Rag: The Rag Files concurs with you on this one, Mr. Crews.

TC: Good, I'm mean...that's great [runs hand through hair and sighs] because you know what else? I'm so sick of people who are less famous then I am going around contradicting me and stuff. For once its nice to have someone just shut the hell up and admit that maybe, just maybe good old Tom Crews knows exactly what he's talking about when it comes to...well, everything I guess. I mean, you want to make me look bad. You want to bring me down. You know I hate women. I know I hate women, so why did you have to say "How long have you hated women?" Huh? Why?

Rag: So that our readers understand that you hate women...

TC: Just to bring me down. Just to bring me down, thats why. My church has taught me all about how to deal with people like you. We don't play around with "turn the other cheek" or any bullshit like that. Thats all I can say.

Rag: Are you threatening me...? 'Cause I happen to know this guy who happens to be half-Maori, half-Irish and all whoop ass, if you know what I mean.

TC: [laughing inappropriately] Hair-e please! He wouldn't even make it past the Scientology Happy Love Re-education Commandos.

Rag: Tell me more about your church. Everybody calls Scientology a church, but what differentiates it from any other self-help philosophy? What makes it a bonna fide church? Do you actually worship anything? Why the "ology" if its a church? Does Scientology also claim to be a science?

TC: Ha! [runs hand through hair and tilts his head back] Once again, the ignorance of the press prevails! Scientology is the science of fulfilling positive potential through giving your money away. We worship the power of positive potential. We believe that the only true emotion is happiness and the only way to be happy is to repress all other emotions until happiness is the only one left. If you keep telling yourself that you are happy, and all other emotions indicate weakness, negativity and self-delusion, then you will be happy, eventually. Then you can work on telling everyone else how to be happy, even if they are happy but especially if they aren't. Thats when its time to start worshipping the Raelians.

Rag: What are the Realiens?

TC: These little green super intelligent things that come out of your butt at night. They're like angels, angels that come out of your butt at night [face twitches nervously].

Rag: I know you've already got into some heated discussions about this but what if a person tries to tell themself over and over that they are happy and it doesn't work? What if they try antidepressants or some other drug, and it actually helps them?

TC: Then they're lazy and not trying hard enough. They need to ditch the drugs. Psychiatric drugs are evil my friend. You wanna know why? They allow people to control your mind, numb your creativity and believe whatever they believe and give all your money to them. They convince you that nothing else exists except the new people you've found and...what a minute, I guess I was talking about Scientology there. Anyway, people like you just want to see every American, every kid doped up and unable to do Scientology mind exercises! Thats what you want!

Rag: Some observers say that Scientology's intense criticism of psychiatry and psychiatric drugs has more to do with competition for converts then neutral skepticism. Do you agree?

TC: Of course not! All lies! But if those people got off the drugs and came over to Scientology, and spent all their drug money on Scientology classes, then they and the world would be much better off. Can you really dispute that?

Rag: I'm not attempting to, sir. One more thing, whats with all the jumping off of chairs and wild behavior on talk shows?

TC: People know that I'm hot when I jump off of chairs so I do it for them. Also, I'm just so excited about this new love of my life that I just cannot contain myself anymore. I never thought I'd find anyone else I could control like Nicole Mankid, never. Now I finally have one. She's young and innocent and already calling me Daddy and doing everything I say, in the sack, in the church and elsewhere. I've just finished paying off her disapproving parents and got her signed up for her first Scientology courses. She was a Catholic. Can you believe that? No more pope for you baby! Good old Tom is your pope now, heh, heh! I won't have her kiss my ring though...

Rag: [shivering uncontrollably] Thank you for that candid look into your twisted mind, Mr. Crews. If you don't mind I think I'll just go wash my hands...and keep washing them until I can get the stench off. Yikes!

Milan. Suspected terrorist (used loosely) Akmed Blahzahappsalomasan, was kidnapped and shipped off to a U.S. Gulag by the C.I.A. in Milan, Italy last week. The action caused more friction than you can shake a stick at between American and Itallian governments.
"Who dah (swear word) do those Yankee dictating (swear word) think they are?" quoted Itallian premeire Guiseppe Caglione, "Dis is my (swear word) turf! Dose (swear word) CIA mother-(swear word)'s bettah have a good response to dis, or I will cut off their (swear word) (male organ) and send it to their families so they can eat it!!!"
According to CIA reports, the kidnapping was planned out and that certain members of Itallian intellegence knew of these actions.
"When I find out who in dis family knew about dis and didn't tell me..." Premeire Caglione started.
The fact that our government can come into another country and kidnap another person based on suspisions of terrorism is a bit scary. Nevertheless, this didn't help the situation any as Italy is still pissed that an inexperienced U.S. soldier shot an Itallian spy.
"That's another thing," continued Caglione. "That spy was my (swear word) cousin! An eye fer an eye! That's the way we run things around heres!"

St. Paul. The next time you vote in legislation, think about this every election. The current legislators are sitting around pouting and not being able to close their session threatening a statewide government shut-down. All those precious tax dollars.
Guv Nah Plenty is blaming the DFL for not bending to the will the Republican Gestapo. "Maybe they should think about what happened to Senator Fellstone." he quoted. Fellstone, a popular senator and die-hard DFL leader whom mysteriously died in a plane crash.
Another representative from Moon Valley, (R) Bobert Goonter, stated, "It's simple, if those damn DFL heathens would give me my seat back I'd be more agreeable! But nooooooo...I've had that seat for the last 4 years, and some snot nose hippie comes in and takes it from me! Hmmf!"
The impending government shut down threatens state aid to thousands of single mothers, foster children and the like. One wonders what it would be like if former pro-wrestler/Mayor/Governor Messy Van Nuys would handle this. Quoted from the last stand-still during his term as Governor, "Either make some decisions by lunch, or I'm running for governor again!"

St. Paul. Pioneer Press Letters To the Editor, Any Given 4th of July.

Sigh... It must be that time again... Another 4th of July, another angry vet who writes a predictable letter to the editor whining that his army buddies didn’t die in Iwo Jima so that some dirty hippie protester could exercise freedom of speech by burning the flag. Well, too bad then. If your buddies did not die defending our freedoms, then they died for nothing and you fought for nothing. I’d be angry too if I fought for nothing. Instead of worrying about what dirty hippies and liberals and anti-war “America haters” do to your precious piece of cloth, it might behoove you to worry about what the president is doing to raise the age of social security, cut medicare benefits and make health care more costly for the elderly—elderly veterans too. Bitch about how much France and liberals and dirty hippies owe you for your sacrifice. Its easy to bitch about stuff when somebody comes and changes your colostomy bag or wipes your ass every day when you’re home bound and disabled. That might not happen if your medicare benefits get yanked by the Republicans, but hey they sure say a lot of nice things about the flag. Don’t blame them when you’ve been sitting in your feces for three days and the flies start buzzing around you. Just shake your fist at France and anti-war protesters. Maybe blaming them will help you cope with the fact that the goons you’ve been loyal to all these years had their best interests at heart, not yours.

Hicksville Air Base, Virginia. President Bush was given free reign and air time from all the major television networks to deliver a speech which did nothing to inform Americans, but was simply a vehicle for propaganda to slow the decline of unfavorable opinion polls. Despite mass ignorance and stupidity an amazing 60% of Americans finally understand that the Iraq war was the biggest waste of life and limb and the largest money pit since the Vietnam War. Never tired of losing, President Bush again declared his open ended, idiotic determination to “stay as long as we have to and not a day longer.”

Never mind that just last week a car bomb exploded next to a truck load of American service women. The death toll remains undetermined because authorities are still matching body parts to individuals. Nevertheless, Bush boldly told Americans to show support for the troops by supporting the losing war effort, rather than supporting the troops by demanding that they be brought home safely, immediately, still breathing and with all the limbs they went to war with.


As America prepares to celebrate its 229th birthday, we should pause and reflect on the global hegemony, imperialism, torture and false inprisonment scandals, civillian deaths, Gitmo, 1,700 U.S. soldier deaths and 12,000 wounded, total devastation, destabilization and anarachy we have visited upon Iraq. We should also reflect on the bottomless national debt, attempts to privatize social security, eliminate health care for the elderly and indigent, promote religion over reason, rollbacks of free speech, civil rights, human rights and property rights as journalists are jailed for withholding sources and the media gives the Bush administration carte blanche to say whatever it wants. One wonders if the United Snakes of Assholedom will have another 229 more birthdays ahead of it given the tendency of our government to support policies of mindless homicide, mayhem and economic destruction.

Hats off to Old Glory!

Baldwin, Wisconsin. Only seconds after spending $150 dollars on mortars and the like, an Un-named Member of the Spinner Family (UMOTSF) was told by another un-named member of the Spinner Family but one with psychic abilities (AUMOTSFBOWPA) that she felt a ripple in the otherwise boring force that indicated immediate disarmament by state troopers just over the state line, followed by mandatory anal searches and bleeding hemmoroids. After a brief tirade unleashed by a cranky and feverish UMOTSF, he asked why AUMOTSFBOWPA couldn't turn on her ESP BEFORE the purchase of the fireworks. AUMOTSFBOWPA responded that UMOTSF was an asshole, and then both retreated to A&W to drink rootbeer and share onion rings. Thankfully, AUMOTSFBOWPA drove home well below the speed limit, earning the middle finger of many truckers but saving UMOTSF from the anal probing finger of probe-happy troopers. Fate must have been with the couple, for just minutes after arriving home in St. Paul torrential downpours, lighting strikes, random anal probes and other severe and frightening incidents criss crossed the entire metro area.

It is rumored that triple balled mortar shells with udulating crackly stuff, golf ball sized roman candles, 300 shot missile batteries, were among the largest of the patriotic goods involving sulphur, paper, big balls and underpaid Chinese factory workers. Unfortunately, no flags were available for burning. Experts estimate that the combined fire power is enough to topple at least one island dictatorship, at least if the island had a land area of ten square feet and was ruled by dictatorial squirrels with attitude.

Only in California. It's the dynamic duo! Not since Adam West and Burt Ward donned the infamous cape and cowl of Batman and RObin has there been a better team-up of heroes.
OJ has flown to California to team up with Pop Star MJ to find the "real" child molester. This coming in the wake of MJ's trial in which he was accused of molesting a 13 year old boy suffering from cancer, using a mixture he allegedly called "Hey Zeus" Juice, a mixture of Diet Pepsi and BoonsFarm Wine. MJ was acquitted of all 10 charges and has teamed up with OJ, formerly accused of murdering his ex-wife and her lover, to find the real child molester.
"I'm goan help that lil sissy boy singer find dat molester, and we'se goan bring him tah justice!" quoted OJ at a recent press conference.
"He's such a big big man, and so very hepfull." cried MJ on the former football players broad shoulders. "He's bringin' his chillin' over to my Ranch to play tonight. It's the least I could do for all the hep and support he's given me. tee-hee."
The duo of crime fighters have concluded that the person who molested the children, is also the same person who murdered OJ's ex-wife. The R.A.G. Files will keep you informed as the search continues.

Brewman. It started as a family gathering. A reuniting of Lost Bird and Hair-e Guy. With Spam, Suzanne, Nice, Messy, Bananna, and Sparkle Spinner. A bon-fire, to welcome the sun and all it's glory. It was the annual solstice celebration on Spamela Spinner's Home for wayward Boxers and exostential cats.
Hair-e Guy, the man to come to for military surplus, and high explosives, herbal medication, and facinating Boy Scout stories started the night off with some harmless red-white-blue bamboo sparklers with the kids. Then, he started to bring out the big guns. It was then that the neighbors across the road answered in a war cry with a missle bombardment into the air.
The war lasted for at least 10 minutes, until Hair-e produced his flare gun and fired 3 shots into the air taking out Nice Spinner, Suzanne Spinner and a hapless red squirrel, whom was celebrating with his own family. Nice recovered with just shrapnel wounds, Suzanne only mild fright, and Squeeky the Squirrel disintegrated by "friendly fire".
The war is set to continue next weekend, when both factions will be celebrating the fourth of July.

Faremount. Lately, I've been waking up with certain marks on my arms, chest and neck. The marks are usually a reddish-purple and tend to get darker in time. The most recent, on my forearm covering a great area of flesh.
I went to the doctor to find out if they knew what these marks were. Giving me the uninsured exam the doctor concluded that they were spider bites. I jumped on the exam table.
"Spider bites?" I exclaimed, "What the hell kind of spider bites with a mouth that size?"
He ran through his reference book and said it was the Red Recluse Spinner Spider. They are a very intelligent spider, they've been known to even be able to pass microbiology exams and pass themselves off as human beings.
The next morning I awoke, tightly wrapped in a blanket like a coccoon. I felt weak and drained. Just my forearm was sticking out with little dribblets dotting around the mark I mentioned earlier. I rolled toward my girlfriend and asked her if she saw a spider about the size of a human being and she didn't answer me. I pulled myself out of the coccoon and leaned over to see if she was okay. She was laying there, with a smile on her face, and dried blood on the corner of her lips.

Washingtoon, D.C. All the paperwork you go through to close on a home. The home you grew up in, and then raised your own kids in it. Well, according to the federal government, it's no longer yours!
The federal court has just past a law allowing individual citys to seize your home so that they may redevelop their city. You could be sitting there in your living room making out with your wife and next thing you know, here comes a bull dozer through your front window.
The law comes into effect this year, and removes all homeowner's rights to their property at any time and any moment without notice. Though some "nicer" citys may be a little more courteous.
Why are our "voted in" judges allowing this? "Americans are abusing their constitutional rights, so we all figured that to punish them, we're taking them away!" Stated Federal judge Stiff Asabord.

Faremount/Omaha. Lost Bird officially closes the chapter of his time in Faremount in two weeks time.
Due to the fact that the Sheriff in Moon Valley is a dictating tyrant, the large percentage of people in this area are hypocritical red-neck, ignorant bastards. My ex-wife is the bastion of misery. There are no jobs to be had here that can support a family. And, I just need to get the hell out of here before I climb the Moon Valley Court House clock tower with a high powered rifle and take aim.
There are many here to miss as well. No one area is filled with dregs, meth heads and backward ass country bastards. There are those here that I call my friends, who I will miss dearly. My band mates of Down Tyme, will be playing without a Lost Bird after the summer.
So it's on to bigger and hopefully better things. Sheriff Gephardt is probably laughing to himself knowing that he's rid of one of the people on his "list". Well, kiss my ass bastard! I'm outtie!

Faremount. Seeing so many examples of fatherhood gone awry, this reporter has decided to give you an inside on his own fathering experience. My two kids, are not really mine. They are my girlfriends. Their real father? Some fat loser that can't keep his nose out of trouble, or meth, or prison. He's what we've all agreed to call "the sperm donor".
So, not only do I get the pleasure of having an awesome girlfriend, but I also get the pleasure of being "dad" to her kids, and though the adjustment for me has been trying, I've enjoyed the experience and learn something new every day.
Being a dad means, giving up what you want to hear on the radio so the kids can enjoy Kids Bop, Shrek 2 soundtrack, or their favorite song over and over again. It means saying "good-bye" to naps and playing Candyland, Hi Ho Cherry-O, War or Go-fish (and letting them win). It means falling asleep on the couch while mom puts them to bed. It means, getting over a bad mood to cheer them up. It means telling them stories you come up with off the top of your head to get them to sleep. It means watching Spongebob, Fairly Odd Parents, or Full House re-runs. It also means being firm and saying "no" when you really want to give in. It also means, giving mom a break too, and taking them out so she can do her thing once in awhile. It means leaving a date early because one calls and says she's scared and wants to come home. It means watching movies late at night and pausing it several times when they come out and can't sleep.
The rewards? Hugs, holding hands, cuddling, and having someone that thinks you're the shit. People don't understand why I love someone else's kids so much, but I don't care.

Faremount. Does the fact that you show up on time, are into work when your scheduled, pick up tasks when not even trained fall into play when continuing employment? Not if your working for a company thru a temp service.
Suzanne Spinner, single mother of two, has worked for Boscotrack Technologies for the past 3 months thru WoManPower Temp Service. She worked with a girl that had been employed by Bosco for the past year, she hardly showed up for work, when she was absent she never called in and when she did come in, she was always late. This co-worker was finally fired. Ms. Spinner, never trained in her duties always came in on time, called when she was absent, and took on tasks she wasn't trained for but still did them to the best of her ability. She was than asked to come into her bosses office at the end of the day and was told that "her services, were no longer needed." When asked why, her boss said that she wasn't "catching on" and that she wasn't a "good fit" in the company.
So now, without a job, Suzanne goes back to hitting the bricks to support her family. Faremount, known for it's desire to be a retirement community, does not have the employment available to single mothers as they do not want to keep companies in their town. Proven by the fact that BoscoTrack has laid off more than 300 employees and moved most of their plant to South Carolina.
If Faremount wants to keep it's young people in town, then they should try encouraging jobs to stay here, and provide an income to support a family instead of having them jump through hoops to get assistance through the state. In addition, the bosses in this town should realize they can't treat their employees as if they are expendable just because there are no "real jobs" to be held here.

Santa Barbera. The verdict is in. Lost Bird angry that another celebrity has taken the glitz of his birthday. In 1994 it was O.J. on June 13th that had my family surrounding the TV as he made his LA drive in his white Bronco as I sat by my birthday cake alone singing happy birthday to me. Now, MJ, has taken my fire again.
MJ, the self-crowned "King of Pap", was found innocent by a jury of counts of child molestation, kidnapping, serving alcohol to a minor, and being a freak. The pap star celebrated by throwing a big pajama party at his Everland ranch. Thousands of fans dropped their children off at the ranch for the celebration. Cost was only $1,000 per child, (12 and under). Price includes a 5 night stay, admission to the amusement park, monkey food for Trubbles the chimp, and all the "Hey Zues" juice they can drink.
Some across America were stunned at the verdict. Proving that once again, money and celebrity is everything. You can molest children, murder your wife and her boyfriend, or anything else as long as you have money.
**The R.A.G. Files after receiving a large sum of money from the Everland Ranch, would like to rescind this article and apologize for any harm to Mr. J's reputation as a misunderstood adult-child who just has a lot of love to give to the children. We are just "ignorant".
***Hey, Hair-e Guy, think you're getting your cut? Ha, I'm frickin' outta here!!

Calais, Maine. On the U.S./Canadian border near Maine, they let through a man named Gregor Depressed. He might as well be named Jason Vorhees or Michael Myers.
Mr. Depressed showed up one night at the U.S. border brandishing a bloody chainsaw, a home-made sword, a hatchet, a knife, and a set of brass knuckles. The U.S. Border Patrol, confiscated the items, finger-printed him, and told him that he could retrieve his "items" when he returned to Canada.
Mr. Depressed is wanted for the grisly murders in Victoria, British Columbia Canada. When found, he was living in Connecticut with a family tied up naked on their stomachs and a hot curling iron inserted in the family dog's anus.
When asked why the border patrol allowed Mr. Depressed into the U.S. they stated that with the new Patriot Act and the Homeland Security policies, they followed everything to the tee.
"Well," stated Homer Gomache, "I reckon we shulda checked him out a bit more. But accordin' to our Homeland Security procedure manual...we did everything we shulda, a'yuh."
When asked to see the procedure manual on Homeland Security Patrolman Gomache complied.
"The procedures quite simple." he continued, "Says right there if'n anyone comes to the border that looks like a muslim er has a turban on their head, we oughta hold 'em fer the feds, i reckon this fellah wasn't wearin a turban and he looked like one of them protestant fellahs."
The procedure also stated that it's unlawful to detain anyone not of hispanic or Arabic origin unless they are carrying an OPEC identity card.
After taking a lot of flak on the incident, hypocrite Ronald Dumsfeld commented, "What? It's not America's job to police the world!"

Northwoods. In a spate of seperate attacks, what was later identified as the Brown Recluse Spider bit the hell out of Papa Barry Spinner and his eldest daughter Sparah. The bite wounds were difficult to identify as this member of the arachnid family is considered rare in the upper Midwest.

The Brown Recluse or Fiddleback spider lives in old barns, wood piles, and even piles of clothes. It is considered non-aggressive but will bite if disturbed. The bites can go unnoticed for days while other symptoms such as abdomninal pain, fever, chills and extreme nausea set in. After a week, the bites turn red and become large and hard, forming a black spot in the middle. Eventually, the wounds open up and the tissue around the bite begins to die and slough off. If the wound is not kept clean, gangrene can set in. There is no antivenin and no cure except vigilant wound care and, in worst case scenarios, skin grafting. Bites are hard to identify because often times the spider is nowhere to be seen before or after. Papa Barry received his bites up and down his legs while working in a heavily wooded area near his home despite the fact that he was wearing tight jeans and cowboy boots. The Spinner daughter received hers while cutting wood from a dead tree in the Superior National Forest, yet her loverman Hair-e-Guy and his brother Little Hair-e-Guy received no bites. It is possible that Papa Spinner did not receive his bites in the woods but inadvertantly brought the spiders into his home with the wood he stores inside. Yet, aside from the bite wounds there was no sign of the spiders in either case, although there had be more then one to inflict the nearly two dozen bites found on each Spinner.

Although Brown Recluse sightings are uncommon in the Upper Midwest, they are not unknown. As recently as two years ago, an elderly bedridden woman was bitten in a nursing home in north western Wisconsin near the Minnesota border.

The moral of the story is that these nasty little critters are out there, but there is little to be done to protect yourself against them and little medical treatment available in case of an attack. In Papa Spinner's case, antibiotics were given, although it was admitted by another doctor that they were of little use, since spider venom is not composed of microorganisma like bacteria. In some cases steroids such as prednizone may be given to stave off infammation but the efficacy of these drugs may be marginal at best.

Thankfully, both Spinners are recovering.

Rearmount. In a surprise upset victory, P. major and related varieities beat out Cannibus Sativa for the vaunted title of R.A.G. Files Herb of the Month. While the medical curative powers and political battles fought by controversial Cannibus are clearly outstanding, P. major's abilities to heal nasty wounds and bring reflief are nothing short of miraculous, as this writer recently discovered first hand. Like the showy Cannibus, Plantago major is a cosmopolitan species, gowing on every continent but Antarctica. Commonly refered to as Ribwort or Plantain, it is also known in North America as "white man's footprint" for its certain appearance along trails and roadways and its introduction by European invaders. However, unlike other European imports that have done much damage to native species like Buckthorn, Plantago doesn't seem to be bothering anybody. Technically speaking, P. major is divided into two subspecies Plantago ovata, Plantago lanceolata, and hybrids but any variety of the plant has the same properties. In urban areas, Plantago can be found in sidewalk cracks and along side buildings and paved roads. In suburban areas it grows in lawns and is considered a "weed" by the unelightened, along with several other maligned but very useful plants such as Creeping Charlie, Chick Weed, Dandelion and Burdock. In rural areas, you can find Plantain on the side of just about any road, especially gravel roads.

These other herbs had nothing but good things to say upon learning that their humble but powerful friend had won a prestigious and soon to be sought after award. "Its about time," said Creeping Charlie, who often works with Plantain to help fisherpeople. "I can help out when people eat fishes full of heavy metal contamination, but when somebody gets a fish hook stuck in their hand and its gets all nasty and infected I have to ask my buddy Plantain to get over there and suck the crap out of the wound."

Plantain's sometime girlfriend, Chick Weed also had nice things to say. "Yeah, he's a good sucker. Once we were playing slots at Mystic Lake. Plantain plasters himself against the slot machine and the next thing you know he's got all the change out of it. Unfortunately we got eighty sixed before we could carry it all away. He sure is a lot of fun, very cool dude."

This writer can confirm the cooling properties of the humble herb. After having my arm cut into, I placed Plantain in there, and it went to work immediately, draining the wound, pulling out toxins and cooling off the excess heat that allowed the bacteria to flourish.


RAG Files: How did you do that?

Plantain: It was nothing. You begged for my help. I could tell you were messed up bad becaue you don't usually speak to plants so directly. You offered tobacco and your thanks and that didn't hurt either--its good to feel appreciated--but it wasn't necessary. I was honored that somebody actually recognized my usefulness. People see me every day but don't know who I am. They walk on me or their dogs crap on me. I could be helping people but I rarely get the chance.

RAG Files: Why do you suppose that is?

Plantain: In the U.S. people have a very different cultural concept of what constitutes medicine than in other parts of the world, where people wouldn't hesitate to use me. In the U.S. medcine comes from a pill bottle, not from a crack in the sidewalk or your front yard. Also, medical treatment in the U.S. is participated in passively by both the recipient of treatment and the health care provider. The doctor is more a scientist then a physician, reading charts and graphs or the results of a test rather then directly observing the patient's own body for signs of health or pathology. And here in the states, the recipient simply waits for the doctor's opinion and fills a prescription rather then proactively seeking knowledge about their own symptoms and treating themselves accordingly. In many other countries, the patient is an active participant in their cure but people are afraid to admit that they might know their own bodies better then a doctor does. People are afraid to think of anything but pills as medicine. They suffer as a result.

RAG Files: Whats your role in medicine?

Plantain: I am a wound healer. In herbal terms I am mucilagenous, moist and cooling, which qualifies me to treat irritated and atrophic tissue states. My seed is a good source of bulk fiber for use as a laxative if another source is not available. My major strength, no pun intended, is my ability to draw toxins, pus, blood, splinters, broken glass and any other foreign objects out of ugly, infected, dirty wounds. As you have personally discovered, I draw things out of wounds very well. In addition to these other first aid uses, I'm also a great choice for bites and stings from poisonous snakes or other creatures where the poison has to come out or else it can spread to the rest of the body. On the emotional side, I am also a counselor: I help people deal with and accept difficult things that they cannot change, kind of like the serenity prayer but in herb form you know?

RAG Files: How do you work?

Since I thrive in gravel, cement, asphalt and waste places I have to be able to work very hard to draw nutrients up from what little soil there is. I have become good at doing this. When you put me on your wound, I treat it as though it was the ground I live on, and I draw out the bad stuff with the same vigor that I take my daily bread from the unforgiving soil beneath my root.

RAG Files: How should people use you if they need you?

Plantain: Thanks for asking. After thanking me and asking for my help, they can gently pluck as many leaves as they need (no more than two from each plant please. Ouch! Don't worry, there's plenty to go around). Although you will only find me along roads, use common sense and try not to collect leaves from heavily polluted areas such as near dumpsters or chemically treated lawns. Gently wash the leaves under clean, cold flowing water for several minutes to remove soil, chemicals and pollution. Then, you should bite the leaf several times without chewing the leaf. The bites will damage the leaf just enough to cause me to start the process of drawing things out but if you chew the leaf or put it in your mouth for very long the heat from your mouth and the enzymes in your saliva will stop me from working. Then, place a few leaves (or more if the wound is large) directly on the wound for several hours in a gauze bandage or cloth compress before changing to more fresh leaves. The compress will hold the leaves on the wound and absorb the stuff that gets drawn out. You can hold the compress in place with medical tape or masking tape. Do not seal up the compress over the wound air tight: Leave a little bit of space so that the wound can breathe and heat isn't trapped. Putting some fresh leaves in the refrigerator will keep them fresh and feel good on your wound when you need them. As a matter of respect, please try not to take more then you need, even though we are common.

RAG Files: Congradulations and thanks again for all your help.

Plantain: No problem.

Rearmount. Spamster Spinner previously known for her hair coloring fame has recently been awarded one of the top jobs at the Martina County Human Services department, where she has worked for the previous 15 years as an in-the-trenches social worker. Her qualifications included outstanding test scores, superior leadership which she has provided to her colleagues over the years, an ability to multi-task, and an essay she wrote as part of the job search process entitled: How My Hairy, Obnoxious and Virtually Unlovable Mentally Challenged Fake Son-In-Law Has Tested the Limits of My Sanity.

Over the previous 15 years she overcame public speaking anxiety in order to lead and educate her colleagues and other members of the community. She also performed less glamorous tasks, becoming familiar with the insides of garbages houses. Now she will soon become familiar with the internal workings of a budget that impacts the lives of hundreds if not thousands of Martina County taxpayers and residents. Though a daunting task, the R.A.G. Files feels assured that the Spamster has ample talents and resources she can call upon to fulfill her new mandate. "Meow sure she can," affimed Shaggy, a fluffy cat who lives with the Spamster. "Meow too,"said Marley Zen Farm Kitty. "Yeah, meow too," said Old Bendy, a boxer who is not a cat.

"Her qualifications are absolutely outstanding," said her boss, William Bigwig. "But it was the essay that put her over the top as the candidate of choice. When she talks about her fake son-in-law, the hyperactivity, loud noises, neediness, foul langauge and foul odors, I really feel for her. Its a good thing that guy only visits once a month or so."

Old Bendy, an adopted boxer who belongs to the Spamster was excited about her mama's promotion. "Maybe she'll be able to buy more skunks for me," mused Bendy, her salt n' pepper flaps getting all drooly and gross as she pondered the possibility. Spamster's other needy pet, Marley Zen Farm Kitty, had other ideas: "Meow double meow kitty chow ration," he said in response, patting his pauchy belly and whining.

The R.A.G. files congradulates the Spamster for her well earned promotion and beathes a sigh of reflief that the leadership she provides to the Human Services Department will have a positive effect on the community for years to come. Keep up the good work Spamster.

Washington, D.C. In a landslide vote by overpaid legislation, marajuana is considered non-medicinal and cannot be prescribed by doctors in the United States. Anyone caught doing so will be imprisoned or fined, depending on the offender's financial and social status. (c'mon you all know how that works).
Protests against the measure have already begun across the country. At every state house, oceans of tie-dyed beaded hippies stand outside singing Greatful Dead songs and holding signs. Mostly say "Hooray for our side". Young people are speaking their minds. They're getting so much resistance from behind.
State representative Wally Titass said to the masses, "Stop, children! What's all this noise? Everybody look what's going on!"
"I'll kill every Republican I can find if I can't have my medicinal marajuana!" cried out one of the protesters, proving that obviously, marajuana has no addictive side-effects.

Faremount. Resting in his laurels as the spearhead of "Meth Legislation", Sheriff Vlad Gephardt proudly displays his plaque from GuvNah Plenty for helping implement the Meth Bill.
"Well, I had some help from State Representative Bubba Goonter and Droolie Frosen." Gephardt admits, "But it mostly my perserverance, and intiative that got this done!"
The bill outlaws any use of cold medicine, ant-acids, green tea and parmasan cheese.
"Everyone knows that those tweakin tweak heads use all those things to make meth! I'm putting a stop to it! People like myself, the righteous, if you will; don't get colds, ulcers, or have a need to taint the taste of pizza or spaghetti!"
Gephardt has taken a step up in his approach by making his deputies wear brown with their arm patches on an armband with matching brown cars. The Moon Valley Gestapo will be patrolling the streets 24-7 now, ridding the filth off the streets of Moon Valley County.

Faremount. After countless references to Lost Bird being referred to as a Mexican, Itallian, Porto Rican, Asian...etc...Lost Bird finalizes his true origin to the masses.
Despite rumours that he really was just a very tan Norwegian, the R.A.G. Files have investigated the sordid past of this reporter and have come up with some unbeleivable conclusions.
Lost Bird's mother, is half-irish half-maori of the ngapuhi tribe. Dirived from the far north of the North island of New Zealand. His mom's, (or mum's) mother, or his maternal grandmother was half-irish (McGrath's of Donelgal Ireland) and half-maori (TeRore). His maternal grandfather was also half-Irish (Mathews) and half-Maori (Matui). Lost Bird's father, is half-irish half-english. His paternal grandmother is Irish (Hamilton from Dublin Ireland) and his paternal grandfather is part-english (Walters of Hampshire), part-prussian (Baedekker), and part-Native American (Crow-Wing Lakota).
So what does this all mean? Well, not a whole hell of a lot. Just that he's tired of Hispanics talking spanish to him, whites calling him "wetback" or "spic", Lao's calling him "brother giant" and everyone just staring at him wanting to know but afraid to ask. If you don't think it's tough being me, then try to get married and having someone tell you to marry your own kind then. I am the epitamy of the American Melting pot. I am American, how's that?

The following are reveiws of the area eating spots. All are critiqued fairly, and based on the service or lack of service received by this reporter:

Jewisville.
(insert cricket chirps here)

Brewman.
BREWMAN DRIVE-IN. Ate here when it was Ay-Jay's Cafe. Good and cheap. Done up like a 50's soda shop. Has many old photo's from the town of Brewman from back in the day. Very small, but good service and the best malts you ever tasted.

AJAK BAR & GRILL. Owner is a pompous AJAK-ass. Boasts the best burgers in southern MN. Yeah, if you like burnt pre-made crap! Never any entertainment, no atmosphere. Bathrooms are clean enough to make-out in though.

Southrup.
HAIRI'S. Former owner of Father's Munney in Faremount, was the former Southrup Supperclub. Good steak. Not very intimate setting. Staff is friendly, drinks are good, food is fairly priced.

Faremount.
MCRONALD'S. Well, everyone and anyone has eaten at McRonald's. Hell, they've served over 4 billion people, and had a documentary done on them. The fast food chain has a great freindly staff during the weekday, but in the evening, you have immature slow teenagers running the show who don't know how to count out change. Interesting fact: McRonald's have made their menu healthier, especially for kids, so they've turned a lot of their playland's into video arcade. "Okay, kid, eat healthy, but no more excercise!"

ORGIE'S BAR AND GRILL. Located in the Holeaday Inn. Great burgers sky high prices. The service is terrible. It will take you an hour to get a waitress, and once you've ordered, you better hope you don't want anything else. Boast serving Green Pill Pizza. It's high-priced crap on a cracker!

PERKY'S FAMILY RESTAURANT. Great Sunday morning service if you don't mind the prying eyes of church goers judging you for not going to service. Usually do the late night drunk shift there. The blonde manager is a freak! And the cooks are usually working there because their parole officer told them they had to.

KING CHINA BUFFET KING. Formerly the China Restaurant. The ambiance is nice but the food really sucks. Say bye bye to this one.

THE RAUNCH RESTAURANT. Good food, good prices. Decorated with miniatures that are pretty cool to check out. They have carry-out and nightly specials. Schitty's Bar in back is rustic with a fireplace, great beer specials, and a collection of Hamm's beer memorbelia you have to see.

BIG L CAFE. Located in the Big L Department Store. Food is okay, service depends on who's working. Big blue-hair hang out. If you like a good stare down when you want to sit and relax and enjoy a lunch, well, c'mon in.

DAVE'S HUNG PLATE. Big on catering. Does nursing homes, jails, weddings, etc. Miss the grade F meat products and mystery dessert from school days? Or perhaps you want to see what you have to look forward to when your kids stick you in an old folks home. Then give this a try!

BLABB'S BBQ. Hailed as Faremount's token black guy. It's a little barbecue shack operated by Ronnie Blabb, the friendliest man alive! The prices are a little high, but well worth it! From Brats, Ribs, Steak, Pork or Chicken, Ronnie is the MAN!

KENTUCKY FLIED CHICKEN. MMMMMM, grease that coats the chicken and your guts. The food slides down your gullet and through your intestines into the toilet. You may even puke this crap up. The owner is an asshole. The staff is rude, and will stare you down and whisper about you if you were formerly married to their friend.

FAIRY QUEEN. The frozen treats from the big diary chain. Expensive. Good treats though. Too bad the staff is annoying and stupid. They're the type that ask you your order like 4 times and everytime it's wrong!

INTERLAKEN HO'S. A place where the Faremount elite go to feel like cultured jackasses. It works too! I ate there with my girlfriend we had a sandwich and drink which came to like $15.50. I didn't realize I was that rich.

DIRTY BURGER. The famous burger franchise lures you in with huge sandwiches, when you walk in, your feet stick to the floor and the employees have criminal records longer than the great wall of China. If your burger is cooked, you get a bonus: a clean table!

HARDON'S. Another burger chain. I love their burger's, but God how I regret it on the toilet. Another blue hair hang out. Expect everyone to stop what they're doing to stop and stare at you while you await your order and halfway through eating it.

GOODFATHER'S PIZZA. Good lunch buffet, but otherwise I wouldn't eat there. Usually only go when I get a gift certificate. Have written some award winning commercials for them through the radio station. (shameless plug)

PIZZA SLUT/TACO HELL. Service is rude. They do not deliver Taco Hell items, or past 10 oclock. What the hell is a guy to do at midnight with a drunken case of the munchies?

THE GEESE. Quaint little greasy spoon slash bar. First time I ever had a "shrimp burger" was here. Mostly a regular spot. Don't sit in the "Major's" booth or you'll find yourself doing 50 on the floor.

THE FAIRY FREEZE. Great alternative to the Fairy Queen. Ice cream treats and great daily specials. Done up like a drive-in. Popular summer spot. Shamelessly, another of my award winning ads written and produced by me.

THE SIR LOIN HOUSE. Great food, great entertainment, poor service. With an exception to a few wait staff, it will take about 40 minutes to get a waitress to take your order, and another hour and a half to get it. Their house band "DownTyme" really rocks! (another shameless self-promotion).

HAMI'S ON THE AVE. Expensive but good food and drink. SPorts bar type atmosphere. You can see Hami Gephardt pig out on her own food in the basement. Seriously, only place you'll find open on a Sunday night till midnight.

THE CHUNNEL INN. The best burgers in the United States! Great staff, great prices, good atmosphere. Pull up in your vehicle or in your boat. Outside deck to sit on and enjoy the lake.

THE CHINA SYNDROME BUFFET. Better than the other evil buffet. Still, if you want fresh stuff, than you better go there for lunch, cause you're tossing a coin when you come for supper.

JAQUE'S PIZZA. Another one of those restaurants where the food leaves your body just as fast as you can eat it! One night after eating there, I prayed to God to kill me as I sat on the john. It's a local favorite though. It's not a bad pizza but nah.

GREEDIE'S CAFE. Only open from 5:30am to 2pm. You have to roll a set of dice to see who pays for the meal. Good daily specials, nice staff. Food fast.

SEE KAYS. Only open from 5:30 am to 2pm, and only when the owner feels like being open.

Faremount. As many before him, Sheriff Vlad Gephardt stands claim to the identity of "Deep Throat".
"I'm Deep Throat, dammit!" he claimed at his last press confrence. "I was the one who brought out the information back then and brought our government to it's righteousness to date. It was me."
Several members of the community were shocked as the identity was formerly claimed by Faremount Police Officer Hymie Cadaver.
Many of Gephardt's classmates verify what he has claimed.
"Yep, I could see that..." claimed one anonymous classmate, "he was always looking for a conspiracy in local and student government. And, he spent so much time under authorities desks, everyone called him 'Deep Throat'."
When asked what "Watergate" entailed, Gephardt replied, "Something about fornication in a hotel or something like that, I'm sure of it! It doesn't matter anyways. That was the past! I'm deep throat!"