Sometimes, Bush baby, it just doesn't pay to get out of bed!
This has been one of those weeks cartoonists and comics make jokes about. I'd laugh, too, if it weren't my life, especially since the word that immediately comes to mind for it is 'hellacious.' But your life hasn't been very positive lately, Bush baby, and that does make me laugh. While I have in no way affected your karma (except with the negative energy of my thoughts toward your destructiveness), you and your devious little cabal buddies have definitely affected mine.
After a deceptively mild winter, the temperatures here suddenly plunged. Twenty six degrees never felt so cold, as I had to fill my 6-cylinder car with overpriced gas and ten minutes later pulled a $300+ natural gas heating bill from the mailbox. And, of course, it was only a couple days later that my furnace, after having gorged on that ultra expensive fodder, belched itself into a potentially terminal coma. On the same day the repairman handed me a humungous bill for new parts, the master bath toilet sprang a leak. The only happiness in my house was feline. The constant drip, drip, drip became a terrific source of fresh water far surpassing their normal dish. My checkbook, already struggling to survive all the recent banking and credit card changes, is expected to die a quick but far from painless death once the plumber gets here.
And it's mostly thanks to you and your buddies, Bush baby, even if you are only the hollow and incompetent front guy for those unscrupulous businessmen, special interest moguls, oil magnets, and other assorted sleaze and slime.
It does my heart good to see you having a bad time of it, too, Bush baby. Your nervousness was obvious with that latest song and dance routine about foiling a terrorist plot in 2002 to crash something into the tallest structure in Los Angeles. Since Shaq O'Neal is the only thing that would fit that description in L.A., I bet he was pleased that those eavesdroppers at NSA had their noses in American's business and their ears pressed to doors all over the country. Taking a few hits, aren't you, Bush baby? Gonzales, your little sleazy appointee at Justice, didn't exactly have enough ballroom dance skill in front of those Senate interrogaters either. Not even all those Republican party hack Senators were happy with his missteps and flubs. Earned a few demerits there, Alberto.
And ain't it awful that you couldn't even find a good funeral to enjoy without having to hear all those folks cavail, complain, and put your flaws in the lime light? Poor Bush baby, sometimes life is simply a bitch, but you still managed to sneer and wink and pretend things were rosy and bright. But, then, you've had a lot of practice slewing reality and wearing your idiot's face. That's one of the reasons the Cabal chose you to be the ventriloquist's dummy.
This morning, "you're doing a great job, Brownie" gets to tell all those Senators about Katrina - that part where your administration didn't know the levees broke or that you were leaving the poor vulnerable and dying. Brown is supposed to testify at 9 a.m., but if he runs true to form, he won't show up until tomorrow. Of course, if it puts you and your evil minions in a bad light, you can always tell us about another foiled terrorist plot. Or accuse the poor and disadvantaged of being unpatriotic for not dying quietly.
Let's see....oh yes, now Jack Abramof, that upstanding worker for Indian rights and easy money for chosen politicans, is saying he had many, many face-to-face meetings with you. Of course, that's in total contradiction to your comment that you don't know the man, so you'd better get Rove to pull out another foiled terrorist plot. Or perhaps Cheney will beat you to it, since it's now been published that he gave Libby the go ahead to expose Valerie Plame's job with the CIA to punish Joe Wilson and untold others for exposing one of the earliest lies about WMD. Gee, Bush baby, maybe you could smooth things over by doing another burlesque routine about missing WMD's for the national press, or even donning a janiorial costume of overalls and galoshes and, while holding a wet mop, stand in front of a wash bucket bearing a sign that reads "Mission Accomplished."
Things aren't looking good for you and your friends for this year's election. If the American voters (excluding your crazed loyalists, of course) have learned anything at all, any number of Republicans will lose their plush jobs in the House and Senate. And if there were any justice at all in this world, you, your vampire veep, and even Hastert, who helped give the pharmaceutical and energy industries obscene windfall profits at the expense of human beings, will be impeached and prosecuted.
Yeah, Bush baby....sometimes it just doesn't pay to get up in the mornings...and it couldn't happen to a more deserving bunch of guys.
This has been one of those weeks cartoonists and comics make jokes about. I'd laugh, too, if it weren't my life, especially since the word that immediately comes to mind for it is 'hellacious.' But your life hasn't been very positive lately, Bush baby, and that does make me laugh. While I have in no way affected your karma (except with the negative energy of my thoughts toward your destructiveness), you and your devious little cabal buddies have definitely affected mine.
After a deceptively mild winter, the temperatures here suddenly plunged. Twenty six degrees never felt so cold, as I had to fill my 6-cylinder car with overpriced gas and ten minutes later pulled a $300+ natural gas heating bill from the mailbox. And, of course, it was only a couple days later that my furnace, after having gorged on that ultra expensive fodder, belched itself into a potentially terminal coma. On the same day the repairman handed me a humungous bill for new parts, the master bath toilet sprang a leak. The only happiness in my house was feline. The constant drip, drip, drip became a terrific source of fresh water far surpassing their normal dish. My checkbook, already struggling to survive all the recent banking and credit card changes, is expected to die a quick but far from painless death once the plumber gets here.
And it's mostly thanks to you and your buddies, Bush baby, even if you are only the hollow and incompetent front guy for those unscrupulous businessmen, special interest moguls, oil magnets, and other assorted sleaze and slime.
It does my heart good to see you having a bad time of it, too, Bush baby. Your nervousness was obvious with that latest song and dance routine about foiling a terrorist plot in 2002 to crash something into the tallest structure in Los Angeles. Since Shaq O'Neal is the only thing that would fit that description in L.A., I bet he was pleased that those eavesdroppers at NSA had their noses in American's business and their ears pressed to doors all over the country. Taking a few hits, aren't you, Bush baby? Gonzales, your little sleazy appointee at Justice, didn't exactly have enough ballroom dance skill in front of those Senate interrogaters either. Not even all those Republican party hack Senators were happy with his missteps and flubs. Earned a few demerits there, Alberto.
And ain't it awful that you couldn't even find a good funeral to enjoy without having to hear all those folks cavail, complain, and put your flaws in the lime light? Poor Bush baby, sometimes life is simply a bitch, but you still managed to sneer and wink and pretend things were rosy and bright. But, then, you've had a lot of practice slewing reality and wearing your idiot's face. That's one of the reasons the Cabal chose you to be the ventriloquist's dummy.
This morning, "you're doing a great job, Brownie" gets to tell all those Senators about Katrina - that part where your administration didn't know the levees broke or that you were leaving the poor vulnerable and dying. Brown is supposed to testify at 9 a.m., but if he runs true to form, he won't show up until tomorrow. Of course, if it puts you and your evil minions in a bad light, you can always tell us about another foiled terrorist plot. Or accuse the poor and disadvantaged of being unpatriotic for not dying quietly.
Let's see....oh yes, now Jack Abramof, that upstanding worker for Indian rights and easy money for chosen politicans, is saying he had many, many face-to-face meetings with you. Of course, that's in total contradiction to your comment that you don't know the man, so you'd better get Rove to pull out another foiled terrorist plot. Or perhaps Cheney will beat you to it, since it's now been published that he gave Libby the go ahead to expose Valerie Plame's job with the CIA to punish Joe Wilson and untold others for exposing one of the earliest lies about WMD. Gee, Bush baby, maybe you could smooth things over by doing another burlesque routine about missing WMD's for the national press, or even donning a janiorial costume of overalls and galoshes and, while holding a wet mop, stand in front of a wash bucket bearing a sign that reads "Mission Accomplished."
Things aren't looking good for you and your friends for this year's election. If the American voters (excluding your crazed loyalists, of course) have learned anything at all, any number of Republicans will lose their plush jobs in the House and Senate. And if there were any justice at all in this world, you, your vampire veep, and even Hastert, who helped give the pharmaceutical and energy industries obscene windfall profits at the expense of human beings, will be impeached and prosecuted.
Yeah, Bush baby....sometimes it just doesn't pay to get up in the mornings...and it couldn't happen to a more deserving bunch of guys.
posted by kaz at 9:01 AM
2 Comments:
Great - such a perfect summation of so many of the things that these people have just ruined completely.
I'm trying to keep my optimism but it's so hard to do it in the face of these enormous lies and subversions.
I can't even look at the man any more - not in print, not on television, not at all.
Keep writing this stuff - it's damn good.
nice bounce nan...
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