George Bush is Stealing My Oil!

(A Precision Guided Humor Assignment)

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According to modern leftist dogma, the whole reason we went to Iraq is to steal oil. Yet oil’s going for nearly $70 a barrel these days.
Since it’s obvious that he didn’t sell it on the open market, what did W do with all that stolen oil?
My theories:


  • Fixed that sticky door hinge on Air Force One.
  • Needed supplies for the “Oil-Wrestle Condi” contest.
  • Keeps it in his personal refinery so that he has enough gas to drive his International CXT across town if he wants to.
  • Dumped it in Boston Harbor as a protest against England’s “Texas Tea Tax”.
  • He’s reverse-engineering it to make an army of dinosaurs.
  • Sea otters have become tragically non-flammable in recent years. Trend now reversed.
  • It’s still sitting in Iraq, because Bush is having trouble getting blood for it.
  • Bush hopes that if he keeps enough oil for himself, his monkey-faced daughters will grow up to be as pretty as Elly May.
  • It’s even possible that he didn’t steal the oil. Maybe it’s just that there are no barrels left to put the oil in because Bush had them made into steelpan drums which he’s giving away to boost his poll numbers in the Caribbean-American community.
  • However, based on recently acquired satellite images, I’d have to say that it’s pretty obvious that he’s just hiding it in and around the White House.
    (click to enlarge)

BONUS FUN GAME: How many barrels of George Bush’s stolen oil can you find in this picture?

Someone Needed To

Greg Gutfeld has declared martial law at HuffPo.

Cindy Sheehan is a stupid moron.

There, I said it. No more of this “let’s keep in mind her son’s sacrifice”, “let’s keep in mind her right to protest”, “let’s keep in mind that she is being taken advantage by special interest groups”. Sheehan’s recent indications that she plans to take her loon-fest on the road and set up permanent residence in Washington D.C. officially ends her grace period. She needs to be treated exactly like Michael Moore, Howard Dean, Ted Kennedy, and the rest of the left-wing loonies. In other words, we must aggressively expose her flawed logic and whacked-out ideas to combat the MSMs insatiable appetite for soundbytes (the less credible the better) that criticize the Bush administration and its policies in Iraq.
Cindy Sheehan is a complete whack-job, and not a very intelligent one at that, as anyone who has heard her interviews or read her blog posts can attest. Am I engaging in name-calling? You bet, but one need only go to her latest blog post to find evidence for that characterization. I suggest you go read it at http://www.afterdowningstreet.org/?q=node/2438, because the MSM certainly isn’t going to report on it. In her post, entitled “It Was the Oil Stupid”, she criticizes President Bush for having the nerve to want to prevent terrorists from setting up training bases in Iraq and seizing oil to fund their activities. Far worse, however, she gloms on to the hurricane Katrina tragedy to make political hay. Incredibly, she attributes the damage caused by Katrina to President Bush’s environmental policies and blames Halliburton from depriving the treasury of funds to repair its aftereffects. New Orleans is under water, the Gulf coast is devastated, they haven’t even plucked all the bodies out of the water yet, and this idiot tries to insert herself into the tragedy to score points with her left-wing followers? Enough is enough. Cindy is free to put on a little tu tu and dance on her son’s grave all she wants, but I’m tired of hearing about it and the ridiculous notion that this moonbat has anything intelligent to add to the Iraq discussion.

A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 21 – Smile

BEGINNING OF STORY
PREVIOUS (PART 20)


“Are you all right?”
“I didn’t even get a scratch.”
Detective Thompson leaned back from the controls of her vehicle and looked me in the eyes. “I mean, you shot a woman point-blank in the face.”
I shot a lot of people. Seemed to me it was sexist that I would be expected to feel more guilty about killing a woman than killing a man. Apparently Blondie wasn’t a feminist, so it was time for me to tread carefully. That meant saying as little as possible. “She was about to shoot me; I try not to think about it.” I then leaned back against my seat and closed my eyes.
The Detective was not about to let me off that easy. “That was quite some shooting, though; I’ve never seen anyone use two guns at once– outside of movies.”
Translation: Why can some cop on some backwater planet shoot like that? I regaled her of how I spent years mastering “point shooting” – shooting without using the gun’s sights to aim – until I could fire quickly and accurately with both hands. I even added a little spiel about how the small amount of time saved by having a gun in my left hand to shoot at someone to my left could mean the difference between life and death. She just nodded the whole time.
Was she buying it? Probably not, as it seemed all the previous statements were just leading up to what she said next. “You seemed quite focused while in the fire fight – had quite an interesting expression on your face.”
Oh no… was I smiling? I tend to smile slightly when I’m shooting – I know I do it; it’s just never usually an issue.
But did she even see my face while I was shooting? Or was she just acting like she knew something to see my reaction?
This woman was making me paranoid. It was just getting too mentally taxing; such effort, and she still seemed to suspect me of something. I vowed to start looking for a good ditch to dump her body in after I got what information I could from her. And I wanted that done soon. Yet another woman I’d be shooting point-blank in the face.
Had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy with her, though.
“I really don’t feel like talking about this right now, Detective,” I told her with annoyance – since I was quite annoyed.
“We’ve already been through enough together that you really should stop referring to me so formally… Officer.”
I looked to her, and she had a cute smile as she looked back.
I really didn’t care for that smile right now. “Should I call you ‘Tommy-gun?'”
The smile didn’t go away. “Friends call me Diane.”
Well, am I your friend or your suspect, Diane?
I wasn’t really angry at her, though. Now that this terrorist hunt was over, my mind was back to my main mission. Maybe I’d get some good information from her about Senator Gredler and why they know a hit is coming, but that still didn’t change the feeling of unease I had about this job.
Was it because it looked to be a suicide mission? I wish the explanation was that simple, but I couldn’t place my hesitation. This was about the most emotional I could ever remember being.
“Rico,” Diane called out, her voice full of concern – real concern, “if something is the matter, you can tell me about it. It will be just between you and me.”
“It’s complicated,” I volunteered for some reason. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it later.” Just before I kill you – if only out of curiosity of what your expression will be.
“Hopefully we can find out soon what’s happened with stopping the plot at Roppola Plaza. You’re a real hero, Rico. I’m sorry I put you in this situation, but you saved a lot of lives.”
Sorta wished I could care. Yes, I had just used my powers of death-dealing to better the universe, but, whether I killed a sinner or a saint, it was all just a twitch of the finger in the end.
Our vehicle now landed exactly where no hitman ever wants to be: Police Headquarters.
NEXT

“Podcast” Now In Dictionary

The word “Podcast” is coming soon to a dictionary near Europe.
Now that its in, let’s start a push to get it taken back out.

All roads lead to dome

The City of Houston/Harris County finally found a use for that big boob-shaped thing by Reliant Stadium that gathers dust and eats taxpayer dollars ever since Bud Adams had a hissy fit and bugged out to Tennessee:

As water continued to rise in New Orleans today, Texas officials have worked out a plan to bring up to 23,000 refugees from the Superdome to Houston’s Astrodome.
Hurricane refugees trapped in the Superdome will come to the 40-year-old Astrodome in over 500 buses under plans being put together by state and local officials.
“It will be a noble calling for the grand lady at this time in her career,” said Harris County Judge Robert Eckels. “We’ll have a group of people who are tired, who are frustrated, who are scared and who have been through a tremendous tragedy.”
Eckels said officials are not expecting to keep refugees in the stadium very long.
“I’m thinking in terms of days, maybe weeks,” he said.

If I’m not blogging, It’ll be because… um… I’ll be in Chicago. Because my grandmother’s turning 90 and the party’s there.
But there’s talk about volunteer efforts and maybe the company will get some folks together to lend a hand. They tend to do that sort of thing now and then. If so, I plan on being a part of that group when I get back.
It’ll be far more interesting than anything I’ve seen in the dome over the years. Man, did the Stones suck there or what?

Ugh

Sorry for the lax posting, but I feel as humorless as a militant feminist right now. Hopefully my co-bloggers can can compensate for me until I get my groove back.
Four-day weekend coming up… just not soon enough…

Today’s Haiku

12 guage in my hand.
Eyes in the trees upon me.
Must kill the monkeys!

GG on RTR With AOS

Everybody’s favorite Huffington Post blogger, (well, everyone who’s in their Right mind) Greg Gutfeld gets interviewed on right talk radio by Ace (of Spades) on Right Talk Radio.
Listen to it at Right Talk Radio till today’s shows displace it.
I haven’t been able to listen to it. So do me a favor, listen and tell me what was said.
Update: Ok, finally was able to listen, believe it or not he sorta slams the other HuffPo bloviators.

We Don’t Have Time to Harp on the International Community

FOX and Friends kept going on and on about how they doubt we’ll see aid from the international community, and I’ve heard other conservatives say the same.
I’m sorry, but this is nothing but a cheap shot.
There are some culture differences between America and other countries in regard to charity (when the government provides everything, you get used to waiting for the government to help your neighbor), but, come on! We’re the richest nation in the world by far and perfectly capable of helping our own. If a fire breaks out in Bill Gates house, you wouldn’t expect a fund raiser to be started for him in the ghetto? Some charitable gestures from other nations would be nice (and I’m sure some will come), but, as bad as a disaster hits us here, there are many other countries much more in need of charity than us.
That said, I’m waiting for my company to announce matching funds in charitable contributions as they have with previous disaster (the tsunami was the last one).
Blender has a large list of charities kept at the top of his page. Remember, it ain’t actually charity unless you’re hesitant to give that much.
God bless.

The Running of the Shi’ites

Over 600 Iraqi Shi’ites were killed in a stampede after someone shouted “SUICIDE BOMBER!”

Witnesses said the stampede started after someone screamed that a suicide bomber was in the crowd of pilgrims heading to the Kadhimiya mosque in northern Baghdad.
A railing on the bridge then collapsed under the crush of people, and hundreds fell to their deaths in the Tigris River about 30 meters (yards) below, CNN’s Jennifer Eccleston reported.
According to police, some people were crushed to death but most drowned. Emergency crews rushed the wounded to five hospitals as relatives at the riverbank searched for their kin.

Kinda makes Pamplona seem like child’s play in comparison, eh?

Woe! I Lived!

Well, I had no power for a day and a half.
Damage? Some.
House.
Lost some shingles off the roof. Some other nondescript things blew off the house. Some water came in the back door on the carpet.
Front Yard
My two trees in my front yard went visiting the neighbors. Didn’t hurt their house, actually may have done them a favor, the branches held their shingles on!
Back Yard,
Shed doors: Smashed. Smashed. Smashed.
It was a nice trampoline while it lasted.
Aftermath.
Ants, bees, ants. loooooong lines to get in Home Depot. looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong lines for gas. Super Duper Extra Unleaded Gas for like 2000 dollars a gallon.
And in the end we lived and came out pretty well compared to many who lost all their worldy possessions and others who got cast into eternity. I’ll write more about it when I get my thoughts together.
Oh and thanks for the kind words and prayers. I figured somebody would notice me missing from the blog. Just not so many.