I see that piece of Twinkie spooge we call a President has authorized the use of nuclear weapons in case Saddam decides to grow a set. It’s like the inmates are running the asylum and all the warmonger’s just busted a nut. Fuck, the way things are going I might as well cash out my fuckin 401K and have a party, cause I doubt I’ll be around to enjoy it when I’m old. Shit, why stop there, get me a big ole drug habit going and start having illicit sex with high maintenance big breasted bad girls wearing glasses and braids who like calling me daddy whilst wearing Catholic school outfits. Stop paying my fucking bills and start back to eating all the bad food I’ve cut out and have a seat at the fucking bar, hand over all my credit cards and my 401K money and just forget about it all and get shit-faced and stay that way till it all runs out or I die, whichever fucking ever come first! Because why should I fucking give a shit about my way of life? Because if the stinking bomb goes off, what fuckin future is there to give a shit about? Bush apparently isn’t thinking past his own actions, so why the fuck should I? And where’s God at in all this, cause if there is a war and the button gets flipped, God, Allah, Buddha, the stinking goat in the back yard, whatever the deity of the week happens to be, is sure gonna have a fucking handful of dead muthafucker’s disturbing their dinner. Its ok to use the bomb as a deterrent, because that’s what the cocksuckin things there for, and I wouldn’t be gnashing my teeth out like I am except for one huge reason. It’s Bush with his fucking blue nosed ass, tonguing the button like it was someone’s cock. I really don’t think he gives a fuck, except to be known as the president that sent Saddam to hell. And let’s get on the bandwagon kids. I don’t think he gives a fuck how he does it. I swear to God that the way Bush is acting, somewhere during his collage day’s he got ass raped by some frat brother named Saddam. And all he wants is total revenge so that Daddy will stop teasing and calling him a pussie and at last let him sit with the grown folks instead of the kid’s table. Peace