A little while back I wrote to you in solemn prayer. I asked that you pretty-please give Karl Rove, one of the four bosses of the BushCheneyCo corporate criminal enterprise, the perp-walk. That meant indictment in the traitorous Valerie Plame CIA leak case.
I-n-d-i-c-t-m-e-n-t.
Today I learn, maybe you don't read this blog. Is what we've got here a failure to communicate?
As Time magazine once asked, Is God Dead?
Wow, I beseeched four-count'em-four deities and all I got was this lousy t-shirt. Meanwhile "Turd Blossom" (as his boss calls him) is laughing all the way to the November mid-term elections. Lots of things to fix in advance...
Yet, as is tradition with the faithful, I still cling to a shred of hope. Maybe the machinations of the Almighty(ies) is not for me to discern with my Reptilian Human Mind.
Maybe Patrick Fitzgerald has bigger fish to fry. Maybe Rove is getting off because he's cooperating.
Maybe one or more of you deities will ultimately come through.
Faithfully yours,
Nettertainment
4 comments:
Please, call me Emet. Just don't call me late for dinner.
But seriously...
Being pretty busy lately, I missed your inciteful post and kinda dropped the ball on this one. My bad. Trust me, that unctous, unscrupulous underling will get his soon enough. (think Diebold + faulty wiring. elegant, no?)
And remember, my son, whatever doesn't kill you makes you... what is that damned cliche I tossed at Abraham? Good Me, I'm such a putz.
Keep writing. Unless, of course, you would reconsider medical school?
Dear Emet:
Too late for medical school, but since I have you on the subject of medicine, what's the deal with prostate exams? Your realm or Satan's?
Respectfully,
Nettertainment
grasshopper, what is hell for one is heaven for another.
Sad but true, oh great one...
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