Paris, I Rap

A hip-hop artist was recently arrested for possession of a cache of firearms. His fellow rappers were a bit surprised when they heard that a judge denied the musician bail, even when his lawyer offered 2.2 million. But the judge knew something the hip-hop community did not: After hearing that France's new president had filed for divorce, the rapper, whose given name is Clifford Harris, and his posse (closet family values men, every one of them), were planning to assassinate the leader.

• TI boyz OK rash Sarkozy obit.

"Nemo, We Love to Vote"—Vole Women

A comedian runs for president. Why? Is he fed up with the current administration's endless reasons for keeping the war going? Does he feel that his personal hero, the author of Being and Nothingness, would reject everything spouted by every current candidate?

• Rats re-push? Sartre blocks all? I will ask Colbert, rash superstar.

Whether or not the man is serious about running, he is apparently taking all the necessary steps to do so. In fact, in order to win the votes of his organic-food-eating fans, an institution he runs to support people with unusually long napes has decided to ban a certain frozen dessert.

• It’s a task: Colbert Neck Centre blocks a Tasti.

Of course, in any campaign there's bound to be some scandal. An insider on the newcomer's campaign trail leaked this memo, which suggests that an institution which advocates the proper parking of bicycles, and shares the same building that houses the comedian's nape concern, should be allowed to veto the above mentioned initiative, and permit the frozen dessert on the premisises.

• Let Rack Centre block Colbert Neck Cartel

Play That Phone-key Music

No longer topping the charts with booty-shaking disco classics, the lead singer of The Sunshine Band has turned his attentions to that other American pursuit: gadgetry. Believe it or not, he was in line the day Apple released its latest wonder. And he was one of the first to hack its operating system. Of course, after he tried to install the newest version of the OS, he lost service completely. And, what's worse, the headphones seemed to be causing the formation of a lump in his ear. Never mind the fact that he was left unable to print out several songs he'd written as text messages to friends. In a fit of frustration, he thew the thing across the room. His bodyguard, a die hard Motorola fan, who witnessed the outburst, shrugged his shoulders and uttered the following:

• KC, its an iPhone: no tone, no hp, in a stick.

An Aid Sees Diana

An English jury has had a look at images of the dying Princess Spencer. The rest of us will see no such thing, but at least we heard about it. Another, stranger piece of evidence has been kept entirely secret from the press and all others. Lucky for you, we here at Palindrome of the Day have our deep sources. Apparently an audio tape was wrestled from the heavens and played in court. On it Ms. Spencer's driver, Henri Paul, can be heard waking in the afterlife, and asking the Princess about his whereabouts:

• Di, did I die? I did, I did.

As the tape rolled, the jurors heard an angel-like voice respond to Paul and explain that he was not the only one to have perished in the crash:

• Di did, odd Dodi did.

Snug Guns

A republican representative from Ohio says he's going to retire from politics to pursue "several goals." Sure he's 82, but it sounds suspicious. Perhaps the real reason has something to do with his years in the U.S. Navy. Perhaps certain errors he made then resulted in the disappearance of a few sailors. Perhaps one of those sailors has come back to haunt him, forcing him, at gun point, to end his career.

• Regula's MIA aims a luger.

Frayed Knot

A rash of hangman's knots have proven that indeed racism can still come in the pre-corporate, old-school, cracker form. Once such configuration of rope was recently found in a Columbia professor's office. Upon hearing of the incident, the president of the university muttered an ambiguous statement. Did he mean that such troubles were worse than being hanged or that he hoped the deliverer of the knot would try slipping him one so could have a chance at nabbing him?

• Noose me soon.

Sex at Noon Taxes

Some militant prudes have smashed up a photo exhibit called "The History of Sex" in Sweden's Kulturen Gallery. Most of them got away, but one overzealous vandal went on to attack a few other works. The Chief of Police, a great appreciator of the arts, and a big sex guy to boot, found him standing atop a giant canvas entitled "Mark of the Beast," hacking away at the devil's numerals with his crowbar. The Chief ordered his men to take action at once with these words:

• Sex is not art? Serrano’s on, arrest rat on sixes!

Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall . . . er, is Falling

A typhoon lashes China's eastern coast (they're always lashing, these typhoons), damaging property and bringing people to what you might call a genuflecting position. Some wise men there think that greater powers are punishing the proud and the greedy. Only those willing to immediately repent and pray will be passed over, they say. One such philosopher was moved to write these thoughts in the sand before both sand and man were washed away. Forgive the translation:

• Seen Krosa? Esteem, meet seas or knees.