Skip to main content

The VP

Hello,

Please let me introduce myself. I am Vice-President (VP) of the United States. That means that I am potentially the most powerful person in the world (in case my boss decides to either choke on a pretzel or break his neck after falling off a scooter). I have a serious heart condition and instead of taking it easy, I like to spend my time shooting birds.

I have been invited to a friend’s house. He just happens to be a millionaire who supports the Party which has placed me where I am today.

So, what do I do?

I know, I’ll go shooting. Even better, I’ll shoot the millionaire in the face with a bird pellet and then claim that I was mistaking him for a quail.

Oh, I almost forgot.

I’ll then go and hush it up for twenty four hours so that the world’s press might give me a little breathing space.

For those of you who are worried about Bin Laden sending off some more terrorists or Iran blowing the world to smithereens… you can relax, because with all things being considered, I am more of a liability to world peace than anyone else on the planet.

My only hope is that my boss is slightly less of a shmuck than I am.

Comments

I'm not even supposed to be here today said…
No such luck my friend - bush is the supreme reigning schmuck of the earth.

I think Cheney kept it under wraps becuase he was drunk... that's my suspicion.

I don't care though. I want him to go down for his crimes against humanity... not for getting wasted and forgetting the safety was turned off.

Even the right wing NRA guys preach gun safefy... Cheney has shamed his constituents!

If the gun shot doens't get him... the heart attack might. It makes me wonder why the republicans want this guy dead?

HaHa - comspiracy theories are gonna fly!
Wednesday, 15 February, 2006
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ten Jewberry Muds

To get the full effect, this message should be read out loud. You will understand what 'tenjewberrymuds' means by the end of the conversation. This has been nominated for the best email of 2005. The following is a telephone exchange between a hotel guest and room-service at a hotel in Asia, which was recorded and published in the FarEast Economic Review: Room Service (RS): "Morrin. Roon sirbees." Guest (G): "Sorry, I thought I dialed room-service." RS: "Rye..Roon sirbees..morrin! Jewish to oddor sunteen??" G: "Uh..yes..I'd like some bacon and eggs." RS: "Ow July den?" G: "What??" RS: "Ow July den?...pryed, boyud, poochd?" G: "Oh, the eggs! How do I like them? Sorry, scrambled please." RS: "Ow July dee baykem? Crease?" G: "Crisp will be fine." RS: "Hokay. An Sahn toes?" G: "What?" RS: "An toes. July Sahn toes?" G: "I don't think so."
3 comments
Read more

Our City

Tomorrow night, we will be celebrating the thirty-ninth anniversary of the return of Jerusalem into Jewish hands. Many people around the world continue to deny the Jewish people the right to claim the city as our eternal capital. On the Temple Mount, the Arabs do what they can to destroy any evidence of our ancient presence, yet, despite their efforts, they cannot erase the basic fact that Jerusalem has, is and will always be - ours. This is not to say that the city is less important to persons of another faith. What I am stating and categorically so, is that Jerusalem is accessible to anyone who wants to worship therein, but never it let be forgotten that, at the end of the day, we, the Jewish Nation are the only people who, since time immemorial have chosen this very special place as a destination for all our prayers - she belongs to us. Every time we pray to G-d, we face towards Jerusalem. Every single Ark in every single Synagogue faces towards the city. It’s presence in our psyche
2 comments
Read more

Oh, To Be Loved

I confiscated a tub of Vaseline from a Year 8 student today. The same kid admitted to throwing a stub of paper at me from the back of the room. After the end of the lesson, I refused to return the Vaseline to him, whereupon he curtly told me to “drop dead”. When he approached me at lunch and asked me again for his precious tub, I told him that he could have it back if he wrote me a letter of apology. His response - “shut up”. Sometimes, I wonder why I bother teaching these children. I know that moaning about it here won’t help in the slightest, but at least it makes me feel a little better by getting it out of my system
2 comments
Read more