Waaah! The President Killed My Child! Waaaah!

Cindy Sheehan, probably the worst human being to have ever, at any point, set foot on the planet, has ended her protest outside of President Bush's vacation spot.

Personally, I'm glad she stopped complaining out there. President Bush was trying to have a nice, relaxing five weeks away from leading the United States in an ongoing war by fly fishing, chopping down trees, and raping illegal immigrants with bedposts, when this lady shows up to bitch and moan that the war was "unjust" or "unnecessary." She shouldn't have had a child and then let him try to pay his way through college by joining the military if she wasn't ready for him to get killed in a war that was a result of the President trying to finish a job his father couldn't.

I know if my dad messed something up, I'd try to save his reputation by throwing thousands of kids at it until, out of pure exhaustion, people would finally admit that, no, your dad wasn't the shittiest President to ever lead the United States, you are. You know how the old saying goes: "You can catch more flies with honey than with dead teenagers." GWB hates flies.

But, contrary to what you may hear from those idiot liberals, this war is absolutely nothing like Vietnam. You see, in Vietnam, people traveled around in their vans protesting a war they felt was unjust. These people are in buses--and they shower! To paraphrase another old saying (and possibly with a little more accuracy), "Those who don't learn history are doomed to repeat it." Everybody knows what an intelligent man GWB is. He was surrounded by MENSA members like Dan Quayle in his formative years (his mid-30s). So there's no doubt that W knows all about Vietnam; he kind of served in it. He served in Vietnam the same way that I starred in the Broadway performance of Rent. I mean, I was in the audience for it once.

I'm an acid trip and two STDs shy of being a goddamn Hippy.

Interesting thought of the day:
Vagina, in the Olden Days, meant something completely different than it does now--much like the word gay. It actually used to mean backpack. "Henry Dewey the Third! Grab your vagina and fill it with pencils. It's time for school."