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Mr. Bush, I want answers!
Sep. 2nd, 2005 08:31 amAs I drove in to work this morning, I pulled up behind a truck bearing two bumper stickers. One said, "Viva Bush", and the other said, "War is the answer."
That just makes me furious! Yes, I believe in the right to freely express onesself. And yes, that FUCKHEAD can put whatever bumper stickers he wants on his truck.
Reading the paper this morning took me from depression and dispair to pure unadulterated anger. Dubya, WHAT THE FUCK?!
I remember when that first election took place - Gore vs. Bush. I lived in Florida at the time. And I voted for Gore. I remember when the pronouncement was made that Gore had won. I KNEW the news had broadcasted a decision because I began to hear hooting and hollering from outside, and even saw fireworks out in the distance. When I turned on the news, I too was happy (as were many, many people). Then, the shit began to hit the fan. We all know the history. I'm sure we all remember the "hanging chads."
Do I believe the vote was close? Yes. Absolutely. No question about it. Florida is a mix of uber-uber conservative and very progressive.
Do I believe that Dubya fairly won? No. In my heart, I do not. I do not trust the system. I do not trust the recount. I do not trust an administration run by his baby brother. I was embarrassed and humiliated to live in a state that would allow such a thing to happen.
Back then, I was mad. I was mad at Florida. I was mad at the Bush brothers. I was (and still AM) mad at the electoral college system.
But having said all that, I was willing to give that good-ol'-boy a chance. After all, he hadn't done anything amazingly STOOPID yet.
I wasn't thrilled with the presidency before 911. But when the planes hit the towers, I feel like the people were finally getting answers. Dubya was pissed, and we had a target. I understood the need to go after a terrorist. And I was surprised when we went into Afghanistan. Now personally, I knew nothing at the time about Al-Quaida or any of that. Hell, I was pissed off at the Taliban for their treatment of women, and the destruction of ancient monolithic artwork - a true travesty of human culture! So when we marched in, kicked ass, took names, and took out a government, I was proud to wave an American flag. Then came Iraq. Erugh? What the fuck? We didn't find him under one rock so we tried to find him under another? We didn't find him. We didn't find the weapons. Yes, we got the other fuckhead. But at what cost? And do we know what we're doing there now? Do we know when we'll leave? Will the Iraqi people be any better off? What the fuck?
When pressed by a devestated mother who lost her son in Iraq, he ignored her, and ignored her, and ignored her until her empassioned plea to meet with the president gained national if not WORLD attention. He could have just bitten the bullet and met with her. But no....
Then, the storm hit.
Dubya compared New Orleans to New York on 911. WHAT THE FUCK?! Why the FUCK does every bit thing become compared to 911 in that man's world? Does he actually think that he looks GOOD based on 911? But I digress.
He chose not to go in immediately to visit the city until things calmed down. WHAT THE FUCK?! That is when he SHOULD have gone in! He should have been the first one leading relief efforts!
The best the newspapers could say about him is that he called short his vacation time. WHAT THE FUCK?! We have soldiers overseas DIEING on a daily basis fighting in a war that most American people don't even understand. HOW can the man even THINK of taking a vacation day?
Years ago when FEMA brought to Dubya's attention the potential devestation that could happen if something like Katrina hit, he ignored them, and slashed their funding. WHAT THE FUCK?!
When pressed, Dubya resorts to very poor-quality speaches. WHAT THE FUCK?!
When times get tough, he calls in his predecessor and daddy. WHAT THE FUCK?!
Dubya, I was willing to give you a chance.
Dubya, you are a cheet.
Dubya, you are incompetant.
Dubya, you do not understand compassion.
Dubya, you have delusions of grandure.
Dubya, you are NOT a leader.
Dubya, YOU HAVE FAILED THE AMERICAN PEOPLE.
But for now, anger aside, I think of New Orleans, and am overwhelmed. The poorest of the poor who did not have the education or skills to take care of themselves in the first place are now facing even more dire straights. Death, disease, destruction. Have all of the horsemen arrived yet?
May the spirit of New Orleans never die! May the jazz play on! Everyone, indulge me for a moment. Borrowing a tribute to the Brits that I read recently, let us all laud the spirit of NOLA. Please feel free to add more...
Jazz.... FUCK YAH!
Benyehs at Cafe du Monde.... FUCK YAH!
Beads! Beads! Beads! .... FUCK YAH!
Hurricanes (the drink, for crying out loud).... FUCK YAH!
The French Quarter.... FUCK YAH!
Anything that starts with making a roux.... FUCK YAH!
Pralines.... FUCK YAH!
Jackson Square.... FUCK YAH!
The Old Cemetary.... FUCK YAH!
Lafites Blacksmith shop.... FUCK YAH!
Marie Laveaux.... FUCK YAH! x 3
Souther Decadence.... FUCK YAH!
Mardi Gras.... FUCK YAH!
Horse-drawn carriages.... FUCK YAH!
Long walks by the Mississippi.... FUCK YAH!
All those handsome men.... FUCK YAH!
Parades and floats.... FUCK YAH!
Walking around the streets, drinks in hand.... FUCK YAH!
The historic homes and architecture.... FUCK YAH!
The friends you meet, and the ones you have not yet met.... FUCK YAH!
The policemen and women who work so hard to make it safe AND fun.... FUCK YAH!
Cajuns.... FUCK YAH!
Seafood so good that even I'll eat it.... FUCK YAH!
Gumbo.... FUCK YAH!
Kitschy shops and tacky T-shirts.... FUCK YAH!
That just makes me furious! Yes, I believe in the right to freely express onesself. And yes, that FUCKHEAD can put whatever bumper stickers he wants on his truck.
Reading the paper this morning took me from depression and dispair to pure unadulterated anger. Dubya, WHAT THE FUCK?!
I remember when that first election took place - Gore vs. Bush. I lived in Florida at the time. And I voted for Gore. I remember when the pronouncement was made that Gore had won. I KNEW the news had broadcasted a decision because I began to hear hooting and hollering from outside, and even saw fireworks out in the distance. When I turned on the news, I too was happy (as were many, many people). Then, the shit began to hit the fan. We all know the history. I'm sure we all remember the "hanging chads."
Do I believe the vote was close? Yes. Absolutely. No question about it. Florida is a mix of uber-uber conservative and very progressive.
Do I believe that Dubya fairly won? No. In my heart, I do not. I do not trust the system. I do not trust the recount. I do not trust an administration run by his baby brother. I was embarrassed and humiliated to live in a state that would allow such a thing to happen.
Back then, I was mad. I was mad at Florida. I was mad at the Bush brothers. I was (and still AM) mad at the electoral college system.
But having said all that, I was willing to give that good-ol'-boy a chance. After all, he hadn't done anything amazingly STOOPID yet.
I wasn't thrilled with the presidency before 911. But when the planes hit the towers, I feel like the people were finally getting answers. Dubya was pissed, and we had a target. I understood the need to go after a terrorist. And I was surprised when we went into Afghanistan. Now personally, I knew nothing at the time about Al-Quaida or any of that. Hell, I was pissed off at the Taliban for their treatment of women, and the destruction of ancient monolithic artwork - a true travesty of human culture! So when we marched in, kicked ass, took names, and took out a government, I was proud to wave an American flag. Then came Iraq. Erugh? What the fuck? We didn't find him under one rock so we tried to find him under another? We didn't find him. We didn't find the weapons. Yes, we got the other fuckhead. But at what cost? And do we know what we're doing there now? Do we know when we'll leave? Will the Iraqi people be any better off? What the fuck?
When pressed by a devestated mother who lost her son in Iraq, he ignored her, and ignored her, and ignored her until her empassioned plea to meet with the president gained national if not WORLD attention. He could have just bitten the bullet and met with her. But no....
Then, the storm hit.
Dubya compared New Orleans to New York on 911. WHAT THE FUCK?! Why the FUCK does every bit thing become compared to 911 in that man's world? Does he actually think that he looks GOOD based on 911? But I digress.
He chose not to go in immediately to visit the city until things calmed down. WHAT THE FUCK?! That is when he SHOULD have gone in! He should have been the first one leading relief efforts!
The best the newspapers could say about him is that he called short his vacation time. WHAT THE FUCK?! We have soldiers overseas DIEING on a daily basis fighting in a war that most American people don't even understand. HOW can the man even THINK of taking a vacation day?
Years ago when FEMA brought to Dubya's attention the potential devestation that could happen if something like Katrina hit, he ignored them, and slashed their funding. WHAT THE FUCK?!
When pressed, Dubya resorts to very poor-quality speaches. WHAT THE FUCK?!
When times get tough, he calls in his predecessor and daddy. WHAT THE FUCK?!
Dubya, I was willing to give you a chance.
Dubya, you are a cheet.
Dubya, you are incompetant.
Dubya, you do not understand compassion.
Dubya, you have delusions of grandure.
Dubya, you are NOT a leader.
Dubya, YOU HAVE FAILED THE AMERICAN PEOPLE.
But for now, anger aside, I think of New Orleans, and am overwhelmed. The poorest of the poor who did not have the education or skills to take care of themselves in the first place are now facing even more dire straights. Death, disease, destruction. Have all of the horsemen arrived yet?
May the spirit of New Orleans never die! May the jazz play on! Everyone, indulge me for a moment. Borrowing a tribute to the Brits that I read recently, let us all laud the spirit of NOLA. Please feel free to add more...
Jazz.... FUCK YAH!
Benyehs at Cafe du Monde.... FUCK YAH!
Beads! Beads! Beads! .... FUCK YAH!
Hurricanes (the drink, for crying out loud).... FUCK YAH!
The French Quarter.... FUCK YAH!
Anything that starts with making a roux.... FUCK YAH!
Pralines.... FUCK YAH!
Jackson Square.... FUCK YAH!
The Old Cemetary.... FUCK YAH!
Lafites Blacksmith shop.... FUCK YAH!
Marie Laveaux.... FUCK YAH! x 3
Souther Decadence.... FUCK YAH!
Mardi Gras.... FUCK YAH!
Horse-drawn carriages.... FUCK YAH!
Long walks by the Mississippi.... FUCK YAH!
All those handsome men.... FUCK YAH!
Parades and floats.... FUCK YAH!
Walking around the streets, drinks in hand.... FUCK YAH!
The historic homes and architecture.... FUCK YAH!
The friends you meet, and the ones you have not yet met.... FUCK YAH!
The policemen and women who work so hard to make it safe AND fun.... FUCK YAH!
Cajuns.... FUCK YAH!
Seafood so good that even I'll eat it.... FUCK YAH!
Gumbo.... FUCK YAH!
Kitschy shops and tacky T-shirts.... FUCK YAH!
