The Sad Disaster of Missed Life Lessons

Ah, poor Bush baby. It's been another difficult week, hasn't it? What a pathetic mess you are, now having to pay the piper for all those free wheeling dances, and just not understanding how your carnival show could have turned so wrong.

It grows daily more apparent that when the most basic yet important of life lessons were being taught - the lessons real cowboys, farmers, and even overly rich little boys in prep school learn - you were lazily sprawled open mouthed under a leaky beer truck. We've known for a number of years now that you missed the lesson that says honesty is the best policy, but the most important one that you allowed to slide past while in a childish fit of pique was that chickens always come home to roost.

See, all these little lessons tie together, the one about honesty firmly anchored to the one about roosting chickens - or in your case, turkeys. Your lies are catching up with you, Bush Baby, and no matter how often you do the Hustle or the Electric Slide or the Twist, it isn't going to get that turkey off your shoulder or the monkey off your back. You and your secretive little Cabal friends have miscalculated. That's what happens when more attention is given to counting money, making bets, and manipulating the bottom line of a few special groups instead of tending to the real business of governing or managing a country. It's doubly bad for you as the front guy, the ventriloquist's dummy, because you're the one to take the heat. And Bush Baby, at a high enough temperature, wooden heads burn, but you've obviously missed that lesson, too, and it's not even difficult science.

All this anger over the business arrangement for the U.A.E. to take over running our ports has burst into the open simply because neither you nor your Cabal buddies bothered to keep track of the lies you've told to cause the conditions you created so you could get your way. Just like little kids and school yard bullies, you forgot to keep an eye on your back trail, Bush Baby, and the creeping paranoia you created to magnify the fears of the 'little people' has suddenly blossomed into outrage at you for selling their security to the enemy. Roosting chickens, Bush Baby. Can you say cluck, cluck? Or gobble, gobble, you turkey?

Something else, chicken/turkey man, that just came up today. The company in Dubai requesting (or demanding - that, like so much else is unclear) a 45 day hold on any arrangement so it can be more 'thoroughly investigated. Hah! Now you have to come out from under that cabbage leaf in the barn yard where you're always saying you didn't know about, or don't know some person, or weren't informed, and you're going to get to go on record with a yea or nay on the whole shady deal. Say yea, and more of your blindly loyal but royally pissed political base will leave you out there with your naked behind showing. Say nay, and all your middle eastern buddies are going to be just as angry. Naturally, you're not solely to blame, since you've never taken the blame or responsibility for anything in your life, but your good buddies and handlers, those wanna be robber barons, marauders, beserkers, and manipulators that hide themselves away in their power dungeons, are certainly culpable of overweaning arrogance on this one, may all their genitilia be pecked apart by a hoard of wild turkeys.

Hmmmm. Wonder if we could say, because of all the foul fowl coming home to roost, that this is a version of political bird flu run amok? We might even be able to pass it off as a hybrid version of swine fever. That would fit, too. Can you and your buddies say oink, oink?