Unbecoming Attractions

The Presidential chopper throttles down on Cow Pad One.
Some rest and recreation, then resume The War For Fun.

While soonergrunt's in hardship heat, scant armor and no date,
Our Dud mows down insurgents from the Vegetative State.
Paris needs five weeks to pluck the treasure of the sun.
It takes quite long in Crawford, too. In fact, it's never done.

This rundown of diversion's by, and for, the Kossack geek,
The sidebar pin-up's nervous target, the alpha and the meek.
Conceal this in that empty file, marked "Plausible Denial."
Consult to crack the Puritan-within or  lure a smile.
The Dud can't lose what he can't find, like oil, nuke, or leak.
He'd still be snorting powdered poise, if he could find his beak.

For real close shaves and real wide splits, Gannon rides with Dear Leader
As Bullhorn and The Pom-Pom Kid in Dallas Cowboy, Cheerleader.
(Polygons stand in for flesh, and we podcast over mesh.
Well, nothing's yet been made or written. How is that for fresh?)
Dobson's hard on Bush's tail in Nuclear Dad: Reactor and Breeder.
Dud just sniffed. Not a reader. Bulled his doze and whacked his weeder.

Feel the beat of Pax Americana in your seat at Guantanamo Cabana.
Thud. At Hat and Cattle Supper Club, it's No Republic and All Banana
Committee Heads can dine for free, and peel the fruit for Chimpanzee.
Secure your Reservations now -- see  Abramoff, your maitre d'.
At Missing Persons Bar and Grill, Spelunking with Osama.
And Cindy, her son far and still, leads I'll Remember - Mama.

Island beat, spastic feet. dancinglarry,  lead the line --

First he raced us off to war. Then he tried to think what for.
Keep your head down, dodge that car. He keeps lowering the bar.
No more beating round there, Bush. We are in a Limbo Rush.
What, no flowers? Limbo hush. Plenty money, Limbo Slush.
Negroponte, Limbo Czar, Limbo Squadron, Black Bazaar.
Limbo panic, Limbo Rush. Stand to think, make you Limbo Gore.

Limbo torture. Limbo rape. Limbo hearing, no escape.
Limbo boy, in there, he's screaming. Rumsfeld won't release the tape.
Devil buys the radio, calls the Limbo Guards below.
"Love is evil! Worship hate!" Limbo fire. Go! Go! Go!
"Conflagration leads to heaven!" "Bury Woman in a cape!"
It's the law in Limbo, hanging. Limbo wrath make you limbo grape.

Can't go that low.

Ignore Vox Cues - it's just relentless reruns of Throw Another Boomerang.
The Clusterbluster bombed, and God is from Mars, by Karl and the Rumor Gang.
Especially since Goodbye, Cool Girls, here, too, we've had some duds.
Like Girlie, Men! And No Right Now by The Promising Studs.
In Faking Rapture, women vanish. Seat stays up. Hat rack dons a gloomy hang.
And Markos' eggs get cracked and whipped in Revenge of the Boob Meringue.

Learn tricks from Bill in Puppy Park, like smelling light bulbs in the dark.
Santorum plays the underdog in Barney Makes His Mark.
Does anyone know in Iran, when Hyperbolic Bikini Explosion's on?
If Boswell doesn't beat him soon, Shortly from Bob's Johnson,
Cuz Foxes Flee from Doggy Bark, He Slithers Near with Snoggy Snark.
Bring back the days when men were cats, and war was not a lark.

•  Mojo please. I'm busted.

  Called a user. Bad enough. But now? Not even trusted.

  by macdust on Mon Aug 22, 2005 at 03:03:23 PM PDT

•  A phrase, I think you've turned it

  Spelunking with Osama

  Here's your 4, by gum, you've earned it.

  by musing graze on Mon Aug 22, 2005 at 03:39:01 PM PDT

•  What?! Too dense? Too damn intense?

  Or too ambiguous as nonsense?

  Give macdust some mojo
  For the filigreed sixpence.

  by musing graze on Mon Aug 22, 2005 at 04:44:12 PM PDT

  •  thanks n/t

    by macdust on Mon Aug 22, 2005 at 08:14:47 PM PDT