Dear George,
The reason I love you and your minions is because you’re a galactic acid trip plunging earthward as reality becomes twisted and inverted. Nothing is as it appears. Evil lurks in the benign, a smile is an inverted frown and the raised hand of peace is a ploy in which the other fingers on the hand conceal an extended middle finger.
Yours is one of the most cuddlesome administrations in our country’s history.
However, you guys really tweaked my tiddlywinks when I read about Iran’s 2003 offer to negotiate. They were willing to disarm Hezbollah and Hamas, open up their nuclear program to oversight, and formally recognize a two-state solution for Israel and Palestine.
The bastards!
There we were, getting ready to kick their asses, and they start talking peace!
Not on the Big Dick’s watch!
He put everything into perspective by pointing out that Iran was offering to negotiate because it was weak. Hell, if they were that weak, he said, why not do another regime change?
Just like Iraq.
We’ll invade them.
Just like Iraq.
We’ll install a friendly regime.
Just like Iraq.
They’ll greet us as liberators.
Just like Iraq.
We’ll pacify the country.
Just like Iraq.
Iranian oil revenues will pay for the military operation.
Just like Iraq.
My God, George, keep tripping and spinning as you throw out those sparks of insanity with every twist and turn. Nothing stimulates like disaster; nothing gets the adrenalin pumping like a free fall. Your administration is more fun than meth.
Your admirer,
Belacqua Jones
5:54:19 AM 
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