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March 28, 2007
With Friends Like This . . .
When I read that I thought, geez, Bush couldn't get a worse slap in the face in front of the entire Arab world.
Well, he just did.
It seems Bush's "good friend" King Abdullah opened the Arab summit he's hosting in Riyadh today by announcing: "In beloved Iraq, blood flows between brothers in the shadow of illegitimate foreign occupation and hateful sectarianism, threatening a civil war."
An "illegitimate foreign occupation." That's what Abdullah called what we're doing. And after all Bush has done for Iraq and the Saudis . . . especially all those Saudi nationals whom he allowed to leave the U.S. before the FBI could question them about the attack on 9/11.
I can't wait to hear what Bush says in response.
Maybe it'll be something like this:
"if the Democrat[ ] majority in Congress would just stop playing politics with Iraq and the US Attorney purge, and Iran would just stop developing 'nuculer' weapons, and Britain would leave Iraq faster proving how successful I've been, and American car manufacturers would figure out how to make better, more attractive cars, and global warming would stop warming the globe . . . . And, oh yeah, I had nothing to do with that Monica woman."
Posted by shertaugh at March 28, 2007 12:49 PM
Comments
So the question seems to be: To fund or to pout. Listen, youse guys that elected (sort of) him to office are now responsible for enabling his bratty behavior and propping up the opiated decaying rotting hulk of his reality. It’s just so unbelievable how this country got to the point where this doofus is running the show. Not only is he delusional, but if you could only read his (limited) thoughts…….
(Dreamy music slowly fades in as the screen first blurs then sharpens to crystal clarity)
It was the soft, dull hollow thud that turned his head to the street as DICK saw 'lil Georgie fly through the air like a mad-capped tard trapeze artist or even an wayward angel with a busted wing and poor communication skills. The foam head of his beer and the president went flat, and DICK saw stars twinkle in the late afternoon sky, like a song sung by squeaky voiced castratti. All chaos and confusion ensued as he viewed the flayed arms and legs, in a kind of twisted swastika. Some of the dipshits that elected him hummed hymns, while DICK absently threw some change into the small, white porcelain dish. A young girl brushed passed him in a fleeting memory of love long lost, there among the elderberries and lilies, from a time when all smelled of fresh pie and clean laundry.
(Fade back to reality)
That's where we all are right now. Laying about with no direction. Sucking up the beer. Focused on how to make it through one day at a time. Looking at a sundial that casts no shadow. And we’re all caught in that shadowy equinox that sticks in your craw.
Posted by: Carl Gordon at March 28, 2007 5:35 PM