Sunday, March 15, 2009

Bush and Dick, Sitting on a Tree

If I were a girl, I would never sleep with Cheney. For one, he's White. And White men look good only in the dark. And secondly, every time he opens his mouth I feel like stuffing it with shit. Pure, deshi, brown shit. It would do him some good, I reckon. Not that I want any good to happen to him (not to curse him with bad luck for the rest of his life). And my latest outburst comes because he disagrees with Bush. Yes, you read right, no need to go back and read that sentence again. Let me explain. How many of you remember Libby? No one? How about the guy who was convicted of blowing the cover of a CIA agent whose husband was anti Iraq war? Yes, I thought so. Well, as it turns out, Cheney Shaheb wanted dodo headed Bush to pardon him during his last days in office. Why? Because Libby was Cheney's Chief of Staff. But Bush didn't. Yes, I know. Even I was surprised. However, get this: Cheney still dissapproves of G-Bay withdrawals and humane treatment of terrorist suspects, just like Bush. What a Dick, you say? So did his mother. The day he was born.

What I fail to understand is, though, how could America put Dick and Bush in the White House? Just that combination of names should've been enough to vote them out, I would think. But, oh well.

And that relationship advice? Coming up shortly. Can you tell I'm procastinating?

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