Friday, March 28, 2008


Each night when Dubya shuts his eyes and tries to sleep a parade of four thousand-plus dead GIs march up and down around his bed. He waves his hand and they dissolve in the air. "Just a nightmare," the president sighed, closed his eyes and tried again to go to Slumberland.

But just as he started to snore there was a knock at his door,. "Mommy's come to hear my prayers, dim my light, tuck me in, kiss me good night," the president sighed. "When mommy dear is here I feel so good.". He put on his jammies, His mommy held him tighed. "When you do that," the president sighd, "I know I'm doing right." She kissed his teeny weenie, tucked him in and said nighty-night.

Seconds later there was another knock at the door. "Must be pop," the president sighed. But to his surprise, it wasn't his pop, it was a traffic cop, leading thousands in hospital gowns up and down around his bed. Some clutched crutches, some were wheelchair bound, some couldn't see, most were missing arms or legs, an eye, a nose, a couple toes, a few of these, a few of those. Dubya's VP came out of the closet and shouted with glee: "What will be will be! Three cheers for life and liberty!"

The Army band came marching in to serenade their Thief in Chief. "We'll be glad when you're dead, you ass hole you!" And all the disabled vets chimed in. "Sooner or later, you damn dick tater cornafater."

Dubya who had finally gone beddie-bye woke up and sighed: 'DIdja hear that, Dick. The band was playing my favorite song just for me!"

"Didja hear that song. you TexAss ass. They wished you were dead. That's what the music said."

"Anything to please my dear GIs," the president sighed. He went into a deep, deep sleep and never woke. And that ain't no joke. .


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