|
There`s a bulletin board on my kitchen wall that looks like an eccentic oversees it. Stuff hanging off it everywhere: a 20-something year old Mother`s Day card about a little boy who refused to trade in his mother for a new pony, a photo of my now grown daughter wearing a clever bologna "mask", a card from an old game that says THINK, a brazillion peace buttons, a red cardinal, my grandaughter`s footprint, and lo and behold, in the bottom right corner, an old button featuring a photo of Mr. George Herbert Walker Bush with the words....SHIT HAPPENS. Not until this moment did I realize this button was my ticket to paradise. Anger management, here I come. WHAP!
If Mr. George Herbert Walker Bush had only turned the other cheek when Barb approached him many moons ago, we may not have been saddled with the poorest excuse for a president this country has ever seen. Ahhhhhhh....life without Junior would have been a string of sunshiney days. I would have been able to trust my own phone company and I would have assumed black hoods were strictly for Halloween.
At first I felt like a violent extremist, given the weight of that hammer and all, but that passed almost immediately after I let out a Howard Dean scream....YEEHAAAAAAAAA!....and the steam escaped. Now I could almost call up President Bush and offer to send along my new pack of Post-It Notes for his world map. Maybe even call Wolf Blitzer and ask him if I could make him some herbal sun screen.
This is really invigorating. I feel fresh and lively, like a new day is about to dawn on Bush`s cesspool in Washington, spotlights and all so the world can see his failures up close and personal. That`s the ticket. New energy. Little bit of hope. Speck of good news. It`s all good, Democrats. It`s all good.
|