In a
a diary last week, your diarist demonstrated with photographic proof that the BushCo misunderestimadministration simply does not like ponies. Bad as it was
last week, it's getting worse
this week.
Much worse.
This week...the rebublicronies...the ponies...
They. Are. Eating. The. Ponies.
And Heckuvajob Georgie is even servin' up the ponies to the troops. To. The. Troops. I dunno, a big steamin' hunk o' roasted pony after a hard, gritty day dodging IEDs and RPGs...well, as Heckuvajob Georgie says, "Come and getchu a nice slice of good ol' American Velvet! Heh!"
Folks, they will not stop. Never. It will only get worse.
That's right. the republicronies are eating ponies. Roasted ponies. Eating roasted ponies with glee and wild abandon.
And as you see, they're not just eating the ponies, and not just serving them up to the troops. It's Spring-time, ya know...time of re-connecting with the community in the great outdoors, bar-b-ques and all. Heckuvajob Georgie, he started another series of get-together-bar-b-ques with American voters - get back in touch and all. Quipped Georgie, "Nothing better than sitting down and tieing on the ol' feedbag...with a buncha suckers, err, donors, err, American patriots."
Is this what Americans want? A preznit that you can sit-down and have a nice chunk o' pony with...???
To help out "the cause" and all, even ol' Babs has swung into action, attending several of the pony roasts herself. Barb delighted on-lookers, die-hard campaigner that she is, as she wrapped her beautiful mind around how to gnaw a pony haunch successfully - without her dentures. Though it must be admitted that lil' 9-year-old Janie was a bit traumatized until her republicrony parents explained that it was okay to eat poor ponies.
Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Pat Robertson was getting busy with the pancakes and flash-grilled pony brains. You can always depend on faith-based efforts to close the gaps where the guvment fails.
And in a brilliant demonstration of the coordination between the republicronies and the base, Heckuvajob Brownie chipped in advice on the proper table etiquette of pony brain consumption - with a spoon, a silver spoon of course. It seems that Brownie was quite relieved to finally get a nice sit-down meal, tho' he noted that "this is certainly not a thoroughbred Arabian..."
Meanwhile, back in Iraq, General Richard Myers was caught napping when Heckuvajob Georgie was preparing for the presentation of the pony. Startled, he rose from his slumber, quickly gained his feet, and called out "How high, Sir?"
General Myers received a quick answer to his inquiry...and found himself before the troops, demonstrating how to properly gorge on fresh-roasted pony haunch. Myers cautioned the troops, "Never bite off more than you can chew..."
And an un-named Iraqi official held a press conference to show-off the largesse of the BushCo regime. Said the Iraqi official, "This pony haunch is for all of the Iraqi people, a sign of progress...". Whereupon a new round of sectarian violence erupted over the issues of whether, and how, to partition the pony haunch.
Tom Delay, back-room darling that he is...ol' Tom reemphasized General Myer's point about "biting off more than you can chew". Please note that, in the interest of discretion, this photo has been partially redacted by the diarist....
And Jack Abramoff, well...ol' Jack was politely required to take his pony "to go". Mumbling and clearly unhappy at this turn of events, Abramoff slipped unobtrusively out the service entrance.
Folks, I've said it before, and I'll say it again...They. Will. Not. Stop. Never. Ever.
It only gets worse from here. The ponies are just the surface, just what we can document.
And I am quite serious about that assessment.