Dear George

For Chrissakes George, make a fricking decision!

It's not hard. You have two choices in Iraq - the way out or the way backward. You've pretty much burned out reverse in the finely-tuned racing machine you call your administration and the only ones left who still believe there is a "way forward" are you and Mark David Chapman, you delusional half wit! It's too late to wake up and smell the coffee, you need to wake up and feel the coffee pot as 75% of the American population whacks you over the head with it.

You've had four solid years of bungled mess heaped upon bungled mess. Daddy Warbucks 41 even sent an entire army of advisors to tell you how much you suck and are screwing the pooch. And now, you need more time so still more advisors can tell you what any self-respecting, lobotomized savant should already know?

George, I have to tell you, this is such a stunningly lame move that it makes your response to Katrina look like Jesus feeding the masses with the loaves and fishes. Even against the backdrop of the Bush Family scrapbook this looks bad...real bad George.

Listen to me, because I really do want you to do the right thing. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. You can demand that the sun rise in the west and set in the east - but trust me on this George - it ain't gonna happen. Iraq is the same way. You can stamp your feet, hold your breath, and scream like a banshee about victory - but George, it just...ain't...gonna...happen.

I know you think God will to speak to you as you claim He always does in a crisis. But George? That's just Laura's snoring you hear. And if God really is telling you to act this way, IGNORE HIM! If He's the one leading you on (and I'm pretty confident He's not), He has all the credibility of a child molester holding a bag of Tootsie Rolls. Treat His advise accordingly.

George, for the love of God, make a decision. I know that requires thoughts that are complete anathema to you. I know you've never had to make a decision before. I know that you're used to having Dad and Bar wipe your ass and clean up every goddamn mess you've ever made in your worthless frat boy life.

I know. Believe me, I know. We ALL know.

But there are big stakes here George. Thousands of people will die based on your words and the speed with which you choose them. The world teeters on the brink of a very bad and ugly maw of death while you ponder the thumb wedged tightly in your ass.

Maybe none of these things mean anything to you. Maybe your simple, gerbil-like mind can't comprehend them. But dammit man, this is important! Get hold of yourself and do something! Hell, we'll even pretend that this whole sorry-assed affair was the great triumph it is in your mind if that'll help soothe your brusied ego. Just do something.

George, we're begging you here. All 300 million of us are on bended knee asking you to grow a goddamn spine and make a fricking decision. It's a big decision, but a very simple request.

Do the right thing for once George, just do the right goddamn thing!

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Tuesday, December 12, 2006