Oops, a slipped Iron (by SPINE)

Hippieism # 251: Don’t wear pyjamas to bed.

 

Simple policy really: you want (or should want!) to let your naked flesh press against some more naked flesh, so don’t let pyjamas get in the way!

 

Still using the excuse you haven’t got any hot, naked flesh to press up against? Well, if you’re wearing pyjamas to bed, is it any surprise? Give up the warm milk, and hit the local singles bar before going to bed – you’ll get there soon.

 

But in fairness to all those who live in colder climates (and for mother-Fweedy, there are colder places on Earth than your home, so do  bear that in mind as you travel America, talking about the cold), if you really feel the need to wear pyjamas, so be it – there are still far worse things you could do: ironing a crease into the front of your jeans would rate as about the worse thing you could do with clothes on. I mean, who in their right mind would do that? How ridiculous does that look?

Hippie

Post script: I did say “in their right mind” – there is no (or perhaps every) excuse for characters that would look odd on The Simpsons or Family Guy. Do your duty on Tuesday, and wave goodbye to our SPINE at Hippieisms & more (the mothership is on the way).

 

 

ED, How dare you?

Dear Eddie of Alaskan Democrat Nonsense,

 

Don’t you know who I am? I’m your hot-diggy-dog, moose-looking, poisoned Governess, Queen of Shite & a much colder place than Narnia; I'm the original & best White_Witch.

How dare you support anyone other me? And how dare you suggest that the election, after all is said and done, is not about me? You claim that, in your sober view, my flat mate Johnnie is the wrong choice for Cheer-Leader president at this critical time for our hockey team. Sounds like you’ve drank all of Hippie’s beer, and are not sober at all!

There has been a lot of attention about my clothes recently. Well, let me explain that: I’m sometimes a working Governess & mom (when I take my kids on trips all over the world), not earning anything close to a Sentry person, so if someone left bags of clothes on my doorstep, I’m damn-well going to wear them, and who cares about the criticism? I didn’t buy the clothes; doggy-dog-dog-mustn’t swear now-dog-darn-doh, and I don’t even know where the shop Cereal is – I thought it was actually an alternative to moose-spleen soup, not a shop!

You only need to see my comments to see why I should be elected – W has 85 days left, and then the calendars will be of a bare, blue plastic frame. Our country needs someone like me to contribute to our literate calendars.

 

“I see our country being able to represent those things as it's been proposed and we must not blink.” (Did you blink? Did you notice I changed my hair in that time? Hee, hee, hee. What fun.)

“But no, the Pakistani people who are hell bent of the evil in the world.” (Sounds like the ADN have joined that movement now. Shame on you.)

"It's very important when you consider even Johnnie [real names may have been substituted for fear of association] and I have both been discussing so we don't have to be takers from federal government. " (That excludes taking things for my wardrobe of course. Or holidays for the family. Or anything else I could get away with, if not for the pesky kids.)

 “It's very important when you consider even these central fronts on the war on terror, but look at my hair” (my hair is so popular, sales of it are regenerating the economy – before I even got elected. Just wait to see what more I can do...)

 

“It has been overwhelming to me that confirmation of as it's been proposed is the undo influence of lobbyists in public policy decisions being made.” (Did I really say that? Well, if you don’t know what it means, I’m on your level too.)

 

You really must have an Alaskan_Delight. Like me, they’re flavoured with rosewater and lemon, the former giving me a characteristic pale pink color. And like me, it has a soft, jelly-like and sometimes sticky consistency, and, like I should be, is often packaged and eaten in small cubes that are dusted with icing sugar or copra to prevent sticking. Some types contain small nut pieces; I am just small and plain nuts!

 

Yours spittingly,

 

SPINE

Oops, a slipped SPINE

Oops, a slipped SPINE,

 

Hippieism # 7: Sex is good; opportunities should never be ignored.

 

Well, you don’t need Hippie to remind you of that. But sometimes you do need to be reminded of just how good!

 

When the opportunity or desire takes you, take the opportunity or desire – don’t be mad enough to miss it!

 

Hippie used to be familiar with a nice, small hill, right outside the front door. This mound – not really a hill, but that description is fairer to its views – gave fabulous views of a beautiful city in America. Might have been in immediate proximity of the neighbours, but hey, Hippieism # 7, so who cares?

 

More recently, Hippie missed another opportunity to exploit # 7 to its full: a fabulous hotel on the Vegas strip; a chaise_longue  (some of you might need the link) next to the floor-to-ceiling windows; a beautiful, night view of Vegas lights for its occupants. What better opportunity? Sadly never exploited! (The room included a bed you needed a map for, and a great bathroom, but there can be no excuses for ignoring the chaise longue really.)

 

Opportunities like this should never be taken for granted – when will the next opportunity present itself?

 

Same goes for the mile-high club! Don’t be nervous about turbulence – in a xxx-ton vehicle your pleasures won’t cause turbulence, but any you encounter will only intensify the pleasure. Worried about whether you’ll get into trouble? Check the signs, or even be the first person ever to read the card in your seat pocket: your life jacket is under your seat; apply your own oxygen mask before assisting less able people travelling with you; emergency exits are normally found near the lavatories; planes don’t normally crash. (Hippieisms have even saved you the trouble of reading the card now.)

 

Still with guidance on-board an aircraft, in the rest-rooms, it is often an offence to tamper with the smoke alarms; paper towels & other items should be disposed of in the appropriate bins provided, not thrown down the bowl.

 

But where is the sign that says “occupany: one person only” or “no carnal activities permitted”? There are none – because aviation laws appreciate such opportunities should never be ignored. (Never mind about your fellow passengers – there’s plenty of facilities on-board, and you’ll only ever see these people again at the luggage carousel. They’ll be jealous, so don’t be embarrassed – tell them about Hippiesims instead.)

 

 

All that said, do be careful too: Hippie knows of people who have been working out too intensely, they’ve done their backs in recently. No door is closed, but some opportunities are more restricted then.

 

Sex is good, and all opportunities should be exploited – albeit with due care, to ensure the next opportunity can be exploited too. What happens if you get aroused in the car? Just drive carefully while fulfilling your desires, and enjoy the garage/appreciate the shaded windows/buy a parking permit once you pull up.

 

Nonetheless, and even allowing for the health warning that preceded your viewing of this blog, it would be remiss of SPINE followers not to add a restrictive warning. (Or perhaps, simply because this week has been slow, so Hippie feels a long entry is due to make up for things... or maybe because Mother-Hippie might get introduced to this blog soon – she wouldn’t approve of too much Hippie has to say.)

 

 

The UK government this week announced more people will be taught about # 7. Reluctantly, Hippie can’t fully approve: without having considered the arguments, Hippie would wonder if he should have received sex education at 5, or is it still (as in Hippie world) best is to save this syllabus for practical theory at 8?

 

Without giving approval to any argument (except Hippieism # 58: giving kids aged 8 the latter-sex experience of smoking – should put most of them off [insert your choice here, or add comment for # 58] for many years to come; the silly balance can support government taxes), Hippie did consider the Telegraph column from Lesley Thomas added quite an interesting angle to things. Still scared stiff about how Hippie would manage the arrival of Herman & Heinrich – and Hippie is only going to be their uncle; their father put his back out practicing for them! Or perhaps worse, not even practicing!! What a sad waste!!! – Hippie thinks we should have little people matured enough to vote; pull masks off pretenders who smile in one facade, but are monsters in another form (why does the name “Sarah” come to mind?); and understand how to enjoy Hippieism # 7 responsibly.

 

Being a responsible child, Hippie is going to do some work for the rest of the weekend, so take care, but enjoy yourself too.

 

Hippie

Pesky Kids

Dear Scooby-Doo,

 

Where are you?

 

Come to think of it, where am I? And where’s Alaska?

 

I haven’t seen you in ages now – not even reruns. At least I follow the practices of the people not in America: I get someone to pretend to be me at the weekends. That way I get a few extra days off work – good practice for my time in the Pink House (I’ll be changing the color soon). Scruffy doesn’t even look like you, so don’t even go there!

 

About me: I’ve found myself on some mystery tour, heading to a mystery, dark, spooky place with lots of ghosts & goblins. But don’t be scared – we can unmask these evils for what they are.

 

Oooh, I’m going off in circles again Scooby – I was wondering about where you were. You seem, somewhat like me, to have PALed Into Nothing these days. I was wondering if you could help me on this Mystery Tour I’m travelling on Scooby? (I have called 555 ATEAM, but I keep getting a voicemail telling me I’m a fool, so I’m writing to you for help now.)

 

Let me fill you in on the details: I hear you’re familiar with those pesky things that are causing me issues, and Hussie is on a covert mission to hire Magnum PI, so I was hoping you could help me.

What Magnum might realise is that I recently fiddled my expenses! Hey, it happens; don’t judge me – in Alaska, people aren’t told anything, so I could get away with it. But with my lower profile now, I fear even Magnum might find out.

 

All I done was drag a few little people along on a few foreign trips (in my job, I do a lot of those –  to places as far, far away as America – but I’ve only often taken the little people, so no real harm done). Thing is, being the President of the World, people want to check my expenses. Naturally, I’ve changed them now – the little people, and the expenses. But the expenses were lego... legit... leggit... ultimate.... fair... They were good costs: one little person was charged with messing my hair up, and the other was there to help me – they drew a raffle ticket out.

 

Sure, they had hotel rooms for days & days. Who would ask questions though? Who could possibly see through the mask? I’m a pit-bull under this mask, so Shaggy should have run by now, and I know Velma is jealous of Freddie – both having a thing with Daphne – so they wouldn’t waste time on little me.

If it wasn’t for Magnum & those pesky kids, I would have got away with this, and never been unmasked!

 

 

Can’t wait to see you & get a Shag in doggie pose.

 

SPINE

 

Posthumous Scab: plenty of Scooby snacks in this if you can help. They’re moose* flavour.

 

*really my excrement, but as we’re both cartoons, we don’t notice the difference.

Dear SPINE, Pt II, Some time in history (are we still in Oct 2008? Am I still due at work? Where is work?)

Dear Plain Spectacles,

 

Didn’t Johnnie do well the other night! I thank he nearly spoke as good as me does. He’s going to do great on the ranch. He’s a great guy, doing a great job, and I can’t wait to sit on his pouch & eat moose off him. And you’re a great guy, doing a great job too, Sally – I’ll sit down to eat some mice with you too. Jello did seem a wee bit uncomfortable at the desk though – have you given him your wasp to chew on, as he sure was pissed off with something?

 

I sent a message to Knobbie about that force thing, but he reckons he can’t do much now – he works with some nagging people, and can’t influence the Force anymore.

 

Never mind, you’ll be just great Piles (have I ever said how funny your lips look between those cheeks? Is that really lipstick? Looks sore. And ugly too.): Cheesey reckons between you & Johnnie, you can get nine votes, and the Count guy on TV says that nine is the highest number in infinity. Keep up the great pretence, we’re all ruling for you.

 

Ah, it’s bedtime now, and Alice & Steven says it’s time for my padded pillow, so got to go.

 

 

Yours something goes here,

 

Something goes here too. What was that again? Oh ye ha – Private Excluded from any work, W.

 

b.s. As I know you’re quite dumb, there might be some explanations in my text. It should make some sense to those who can use the VCR. And maybe even to you Soldier. Jolly won’t understand though – I tried to call him on the Strawberry the other day, but he got juice all down his face. Silly man!

 

b.b.s. I’m told the week ends soon, and I don’t work during the week, so I might be quiet for a day or two. I’ll be back soon though, so do... I’ll come back... yeah, what was I saying... ok, Hi?

 

b.b.b.s. The thing you’re doing wrong with trangles is the trigon... tiger... me.... trigon... tangles... trees, yeah something about tea... no, you’re doing nothing wrong Jilly, you’re a damn good fella, doing a darn good job, in damn difficult times, and we’re all real proud of you. Keep up the good work fella, we’re all behind ya.

Dear SPINE, Some time in history (around Oct 2008)

Dear Speechless,

 

Cheers for the letters. I get so few letters read to me these days – the mail truck turns up every day, but all the nice American & Eastern folk want to write about is wishing we a happy retirement. They are so considerate & warm.

 

That education policy idea of yours sound great – don’t know why I didn’t have someone think of it myself. I’ve got a friendly clown teaching me right now: for only one dollar I can get two patties, three pieces of bread, four people handle my food, and five kermits on the bunny.

 

What’s that? Sorry Spindly, advisor shouting at me now. Big Bird? Sesame Street? Oh, apparently I get five Sesame Street toys with my bunny. I’m sure you knew what I spoke – most people do, except that kid of Laurie’s who drank beer at a party. I think she might be Dickie’s kid, as I used to drink lots of beer too, could never give Laurie anything but beer to keep it happy. Same goes for the kiddies – maybe should’ve given them some of those spare guns we have around here. I thinks I... Consciousness... Dickie... was meant to do something with them, but can’t think what! I might sell them on Easy Boy. The guns I mean? Or was it the kids? Or was it the Constitution? Not important now, I’ll auction them all, as the Hulk says I need some cash.

 

Where were you? Yeah, the clown man that served my food has really been helpful actually – he’s at the end of my bed now, with a nice shiny balloon. Hee, Hee, nice balloon. Hey Clown dude, can I have a lollipop? And one for Gandalf too – he lives in a tent already; most of us won’t have to do that until you repossess all the trailers, Jenny.

 

The clown is dancing & smiling at me, and inviting me into the storm drains to find the Bin man I’ve been looking for for ages. Tells me It knows all about my budget deficit, as he’s wise with Pennies. I’m still happy with Count Duck on the Muppets though – he got me up to nine today, “nine losing votes, Ha Ha Ha.” I’m so excited, we might get to count with more than one number next week.

 

Oh, better leave it here Shergar, Benny & Earth are on the TV now. Pope Poppie told me they’re bad, and I should make laws against them. Something about them liking other persuading people.

 

Good luck in that thing you’re doing.

 

W

 

possibly skipped: did I mention I’ll leave the door open for Johnnie? Tell him not to worry about using a hatchet this time.

“Ah, Dead People”

Hippieism # 462

 

“Ah, Dead People”

 

This Hippieism relates to all old people that look & behave like they’re dead (and are really dead, except perhaps medically) – you know the ones: they ignore your existence on the street, and drive anywhere they care, at a pace that confirms time is no longer an issue. And they congest an aisle in the shopping mall, thinking they can walk straight through you – or you them, when they just stand there staring at their left hand, with a random item in their other hand. (If you looked at the item, it would normally come from another aisle.)

 

The truth is these people are actually dead! The only reason they congest your life; your roads; the short line you joined because you're rushing; your shopping aisles; and all public restrooms; is because the Grim Reaper got a page stuck in his book. They actually know they’re dead, which is why they don’t care anymore: GR will be back for them soon.

 

The main characteristic to look out for is no concept of time. That is, no concept of time except for that weekly event when they can get into the Country Barn buffet – with the right timing and a little sleep in the restrooms*, these people can get a week’s breakfast, lunch, and dinner all in one sitting. All for less than $5!

 

# 462: “Ah, Dead People. They were loved once, but should jump in the ground now.”

 

*a sleep on the bench would perhaps be more comfortable for them, but even ignoring the pungent stench of urine, their dribbling and gurgling noises put off the occasional, unsuspecting diner. Country Barn management have therefore decreed: "No more dead people to be left in the restaurant unattended". Signs are now  prominently displayed in all restaurants - check your local one.

SPINE to W, Pt II, Oct 08

Hi again W,

 

How are you today? I’m feeling rotten – sore nipples! No, not Toy Story II’s fault, that other guy who’s name escapes me. I blame Gordon for encouraging him with his recipes – he mixes everything up with a good fuck.

 

Did I really say that? Oh, how bad of me. Excuse my mouth W, but that Gordon is really awful. I might sack him when I have ultimate power of the whole world. Can’t wait now, I’m so excited.

 

Where was I when that awful man expelled his bladder yesterday? No, I keep telling you it wasn’t the guy watching Sesame Street, it was the other one – the one that jacks off to those idle moms on Hysterical Lane. I still have a lot of diapers to change, which will at least keep me busy for the next four years.

 

Oh yes...

Apparently, what we need is that Jedi to come back to help us – I know he can use the force to create a place (Johnnie calls it the Sunny Place) where gravity doesn’t work, and bad Xs don’t really count. If he can do that for all of US (except for those of us in Russia) I’ll soon be changing diapers on that fine desk at which you should be sat at now. You know the one you posed at once for pictures – the office looks like an egg; has a big, fancy garden outside with a big “H” in the middle... ring any bells?

 

Once I get there, I need to know what I’m going to do – apart from sacking Gordon. Haven’t a clue what Cheesey does at the moment. Will I get to tell people about how to speak proper, or can I go on TV to demonstrate make-up?

 

Don’t get me wrong: I have got some cunning, bald, plans tucked up under my mop of wig (busy moms haven’t got time to do their hair, we just put a new one on every morning): I’m going to use Girl Power, and invite those Suga Girls to the Egg Office once I’m ( just like you) non-elected to office. I’ve heard their songs about “Push The Button” & “Girl Power”, and they’re really in tune with something. Done my research too: told Johnnie’s people that I want advice from the sexy “Suga Girls”, not the ugly Sugalumps, who I may need to push the button towards, as they’re from that remote frozen land who’s upset that Hulk guy with his red balance sheet.

 

Gee, did I hear the Hulk is getting married now? Rumour has it he made a big deal of proposing in front of lots of people from that building up the road that resembles something sore about my person. Do wish him well from me. Was a shotgun involved in the arrangement? Don’t forget to mention he needs to delete his FaceOff entry now – and he should also do something with his hulk@Yahee email, as Hogan is not a secure password (I’ve read some of the stuff he sent to you – you don’t want that getting out W! Didn’t even know you were that way inclined! Your closet is safe with me though).

 

In case you’re interested, the Sugalumps have an odd looking person with strange hair who makes squeaky noises, as their lead vocalist. Please tell your folks to be careful W, as she has been, but she shouldn’t be, confused with me though: the difference is that she was once a tennis player. I don’t even know what termites look like without milk on them! Here we get them in a yellow box next to more sugary stuff from Kellys. I won’t let the hubbie eat those sugary things – he gets hyper-active, and if I’m not careful we could soon have Bert & Ernie running around that fancy flower garden with a “H” in.

 

Well, I have to go now W, as urgent work to do: I need to pose for some Wild Women in the Wilderness magazine with Mr Putty from next door, before filling out an audience to applaud that hatchet man, Johnnie. Whatever I meant to write to you about can wait – I need to check back with the hockey moms, and then you can check with your hickies about it too. I think it had something to do with triangles, but can’t be sure.

 

Yours sincerely,

 

Sissy Paled-Into-Non-Existence

(Spokesmom for Guns for Kids)

 

p.s. Check the next edition of What Why Whatever for Moose-Head Soup – it’s great W.

 

 

 

p.p.s. Triangles: what am I doing wrong W? It just doesn’t seem fair: you talk a lot of clever stuff in a  krypton way, and they glorify you on a calendar. I get asked about the economy, and I tell people to save money by eating the people they accidentally shoot (it worked for Cheesey), and I get told I’ve gone off on a triangle. I’ve seen it on CSI: they use triangles to figure out where the food is too. How do you do so well W?

 

p.p.p.s Hippie didn’t do so well in that quiz – about 7 I think. Needs to read more of our emails I think.

 

p.p.p.p.s. What does the p.s. stuff mean in this letter? Johnnie’s people said it was “Please Sugar”, but being healthy, I’m not so sure about sugar anymore. Any ideas?

 

Please Sugar, don’t forget you only have 97 days left (unless you agree with Hippie, when you can have 104 days) before I get to sit in your chair. Any ideas how you’re going to promote yourself then? Have you ever been to a library? Johnnie reckons they have books in!! He is going senile, but that really is a ridiculous thought – honestly, who knows how to read in this country, apart from our secretaries? I can’t even get the talking books to fit in my VCR.

 

Your near fondest admirer*,

 

SPINE

*I wash my pretzels down with little paper cups of Miner beer, so nothing in my head except my tongue. And I know I don’t drink much, as the servings couldn’t wash out the wasp I’m still chewing on (that’s not in my mouth anyway... haven’t you seen how I walk? It’s why I don’t wander around the stage like Johnnie).

SPINE to W, Oct 08

Hi W,

Things aren’t going quite to plan with the X factor, and I wondered if you would help us out a bit here. Those foreign folks at BBTV have posted some kind of questionnaire at the back of my Women’s World Wide Institution magazine. It's most unfair & bias, and with it being right next to that nice family man Gordon Romunlan's new moose recipe, the editor had to cut a few of the ingredients for the moose-gravy out of the page. The soccer mums are all going crazy, as this Gordon guy is a great soccer player himself. (I think with that face he must have played in goal – looks like he’s kept his mask on too.)

They asked if you could speak to that nice man from England to complain. Proving my foreign credentials, I told them his name is Sir Winston Churchill. Only one mom had heard of him, but wondered about the "Sir" bit. I explained that meant he was friends with that odd organic man who actually married his moose (the WWWI moms never heard of “organic”, but again, I could explain all: like Hussie can’t eat people anymore, Organics can’t eat moose anymore. They understood then) and they got so intrigued, they insisted I write to you. If I'm honest, a few thought I should write to Hussie’s local major, Jerry, but I didn't understand the point of that.

So Chuck, about this recipe... the bit that got cut out was: you give the antlers – they’re the wooden sticks in the head - to the young ‘uns to play with. When they're nicely broken down to size (the sticks, not the young ‘uns) you put them in a big pot of hot water. Then you add...

Hot diggiddy dog,, I keep doing that recently: I'm asked about one thing and start talking about something else entirely. :-)

While I think of it, can you ask Cheesey about education? I really don’t know what he does now, or what I’m going to do come January, so wondered if I get control of education. I’m not planning any for the folks back home, just Johnnie’s mates – they keep suggesting I keep going off on triangles, but then some of them talk about tangles instead. They really should learn about math, as I know triangles are round things that measure percentages, and I was told I’m not allowed to talk about those – if a question comes up, I go off on a triangle about something totally irrelevant: “answer the question you want, not the one posed." It’s good advice too, W.

Not that math matters anymore, as I saw that banner that Paulie’s son, Bruce, had in the crowd. You got him to buy a load of gummy stuff haven’t you, so he’s going to turn everything from red to green?

Anyway, I’ve gone off on a triangle again. Back to this quiz in WWW land. Gordon is a charming man, although he does use words my off-spring, Trojan, shouldn't hear & my husband (I would mention his name, but none of us remember it, so I can't) does too much - can you imagine, I’m soon going to be changing a baby on that fine desk you're paid to now sit at? Accidents happen, but Pope Peter said no contraception, and Pope Peter II (the Kraut one) still agrees, so here we are, with young Toy Solider II in our lap now.

Well, this questionnaire asks all sorts of nice questions about that chatty lady Offie. You know her, the black one on TV. But different to Hussie’s wife (don't really know how they tell the difference, they all look the same, but apparently she's a different one). It – the quiz, not TV, which is good - makes a mockery of that report that found I'd done nothing wrong in sacking people I don’t like, which is why I'm writing really (still getting caught up in these bloody triangles): Johnnie’s friends said I should, as you can make things happen. That’s what they said anyway.

This is getting long now, so I should pause - working mom you know, can't do too much all in one day! I'll get back to you tomorrow W...

SPINE

Well, Hippiesims are here at last

The idea behind this blog was floated a few years ago. I have to admit, I didn't know much about blogs, and while it sounded fun, I never got around to doing anything.

It was mentioned again this year – at least the idea of publishing what has affectionately become known in my family as “Hippieisms” – but as no-one who promoted the idea took to doing anything, the task falls with me.

 

And then I got inspired to publish a letter to W. I then I found out how – it was surprisingly easy.

 

W & other characters will receive more correspondence in the next few weeks, and possibly for the next 99 days (my timing was entirely accidental, but I like the idea now it’s fallen on such a perfect date), but proper Hippieisms will feature too.

 

Enjoy.

 

Hippie

Dear W, 13 Oct 08

Dear W,

Apart from your library, which will be entertaining for most, but (well, if you were capable of the emotion) embarrassing for you, your legacy is, and always will be, shot to pieces. Not just on the front lines of the Middle East, but also in the Rose Garden of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, and that place in Texas you've spent most of your last 8 years.

Instead, why don't you do yourself a favour (and one for Hippie at the same time): give yourself more time to fix this world. Just change the constitution, postponing the election & inauguration for a week. I'm sure that's all the extra time the global banking crisis needs, and you can use the new space in your diary to sort out Israel & Palestine, and maybe even get those Syrians to jump on board. You could even show you're better than that dude Blair then - remember him? No, no-one else does either. Which is why this is so important for your place in history!

I know some of your countrymen will object, and argue it's unconstitutional, but hey, we haven't heard from Cheney for a while. You can't replace a rottweiler with a lipstick-bulldog without some loss of security, so just like with that space on the blot of land just SE (that means go downwards - look at the houses and count the numbers backwards, 1600,  1598, 1596... - and then turn to the right) of Florida, leave Dick to explain to the world that the constitution can be ignored in times of national crisis. And a W without a useful library or legacy is nearly as much a crisis as the last 8 years - with a W without a brain.

Go on man, be brave, you compromised on $700000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000, settling at something like $699999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999.98c worth of new credit cards for your countrymen to spend in the malls. Now demand those bullies in that big-tit building up the road repay your compromise, and adjourn your succession. (In fairness, you won't even notice the difference: you'll already be on holiday (oops, I do beg your pardon Mr President, a working-from-home vacation), so no loss for you at all.)

Your fondest admirer*, 


Hippie


*ignore those skeptics - I had a piece of pretzel stuck in my cheek, it wasn't my tongue at all!