Bushie Makes An Appearance
I have it on good authority that President Bush is, in fact, roughly six blocks from my house. Today. Perhaps as we speak. I don't think I'm supposed to say how I know this , but let's just say I know (ETA: Oh, it's in the paper this morning, good. No one can yell at me for telling the big secret). I find it disingenuous that he ignores us for months, then decides to fly in and make showboating speeches. But whatever, nobody asked me. Though I am sorely tempted to walk over there and see if I can sneak in and tell him to go fuck himself, I think I'll stay in. It looks like rain. It's not like I'll be able to get through the neighborhood with the Secret Service here anyway.
(In case you aren't aware, I'm referencing the ER doctor in Mississippi who, upon returning to his destroyed home to salvage his stuff after Katrina, found his road blocked off by the Secret Service because Dick Cheney was holding a press conference. He then crashed the press conference and yelled, "Go fuck yourself, Mr. Cheney!" from the back of the crowd. This appeared in the Spike Lee documentary. It was kind of awesome.)
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