Anyone else notice how these strident, belching, strutting, belligerent righty cowboys are really princesses in pea-land? Remember and recall how they cultivate and deploy selectively weak stomachs.
They get millions of people killed, wreck societies worldwide, wrench babies from their mothers and so on. But the instant you say anything against them they are appalled... aghast... indignant.
Somebody talked MEAN to them. They go nucular (I can't spell it), as one of them used to say—and at the first whiff and hint of criticism. (Be it resolved: if you can't pronounce it you don't get the football).
Oh, they are so fragile. So faint of heart. Parachute them into their thriving success and exemplary democratic state in Iraq, I say. Tax their inheritances. Take away GOLF. That will blow the lid off.
They are such babies. Such primadonnas. Their plans for one-world kleptocracy carry on, however. Greek gods are back, as petty and vain as ever, and stalking an earthly stage. They meddle in mortal affairs.
We are the mortals. They are the gods—so far above us, beyond criticism. Or shame.
Oh, they are so fragile. So faint of heart. Parachute them into their thriving success and exemplary democratic state in Iraq, I say. Tax their inheritances. Take away GOLF. That will blow the lid off.
They are such babies. Such primadonnas. Their plans for one-world kleptocracy carry on, however. Greek gods are back, as petty and vain as ever, and stalking an earthly stage. They meddle in mortal affairs.
We are the mortals. They are the gods—so far above us, beyond criticism. Or shame.
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