Monday, October 16, 2006
Talking turkey to the turkeys
A short time ago, I wrote a letter to the editor suggesting that President Bush sit down with the leaders of Iran and North Korea and have a one on one pow wow to resolve the nuclear issue. Since then I have visualized how such a meeting might go. The scenario went like this, with The North Korean leader leading off: "Welcome to the People's Democratic Republic of North Korea, Mr. President. I, The Dear one, greet you with unrebridled love and joy".
"Hold that thought, Bubba", replied Mr. Bush, "and save that "dear one" crap for the peasants. I just want it understood that your options are nil and none".
The dear one rose from his chair and started babbling in tongues, the gist of which when translated was, "Get a life, you beady eyed Moron, I will set the agenda for this conference"!
"Well now, shorty", responded Mr. B., "here's the deal. You either quit, cease and desist from playing Terminator with fissionable materials, or we will reduce your country to 'menace to navigation' status in a heart beat, I kid you not".
"KILL HIM", cried the Dear one, but his cry fell on deaf ears. The Presidents accompanying military body guards had whisked him out of the presidential palace and into a helocopter standing by for a hasty takeoff. "Missiles were fired, but they failed to keep up with the copters top speed of two hundred miles an hour. Since the meeting with 'The Dear One' was a tad unproductive, the President decided to forego his planned trip to Iran and opted for a barbeque at his ranch instead.
Oh I don't really believe any of this will happen, but one can dream, can't one?
George Morin
Auburn, Ga.
"Hold that thought, Bubba", replied Mr. Bush, "and save that "dear one" crap for the peasants. I just want it understood that your options are nil and none".
The dear one rose from his chair and started babbling in tongues, the gist of which when translated was, "Get a life, you beady eyed Moron, I will set the agenda for this conference"!
"Well now, shorty", responded Mr. B., "here's the deal. You either quit, cease and desist from playing Terminator with fissionable materials, or we will reduce your country to 'menace to navigation' status in a heart beat, I kid you not".
"KILL HIM", cried the Dear one, but his cry fell on deaf ears. The Presidents accompanying military body guards had whisked him out of the presidential palace and into a helocopter standing by for a hasty takeoff. "Missiles were fired, but they failed to keep up with the copters top speed of two hundred miles an hour. Since the meeting with 'The Dear One' was a tad unproductive, the President decided to forego his planned trip to Iran and opted for a barbeque at his ranch instead.
Oh I don't really believe any of this will happen, but one can dream, can't one?
George Morin
Auburn, Ga.
