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My George W. dream

I had a vivid dream last night. It was George Bush’s day off and for some reason that the dream didn’t care about enough to explain, I was the buddy accompanying him. We did this and that, and then visited a tourist attraction in a local mall. It was apparently based on Madurodam in the Netherlands, which is a miniature version of the country that you can walk through, with little replicas of the various landmarks. Almost immediately, George stumbled on Mount Rushmore, knocking over the Statue of Liberty, which set fire to New York, causing George to fall backwards, crushing the Grand Canyon, and so on, leaving the place a disaster. It was totally a Homer moment.

It was so obvious how the media were going to spin this that I actually felt bad for him. In the dream.

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4 Responses to “My George W. dream”

  1. Only in a dream, could I feel sorry for him.

  2. You just brought back My Bush Dream, as recounted here:

    I dreamed I saw George Bush last night. The next line should be “Alive as you and me,” but that’s too depressing to continue. It was in the middle of a War of the Worlds knockoff, which began with a landing in Springdale, Arkansas. I escaped and headed north along the rail lines, and after stopping to speak to my friend rehabbing a house and before encountering the Mall Ninja, there he was.

    George Bush was headed into his glass-fronted underground command center, just off the main drag of the station. He was by himself, and he’s the only president we’ve got (since Cheney wasn’t there), so I asked him if I could help. He said sure and told me to come on in.

    Bush turned on the televisions scattered throughout the complex, all tuned to Fox News, which had nothing to say about the invasion. I tried to tell him what I’d seen, but he wanted to get on the phone and yack with friends.

    I picked up one of the cell phones lying around and found a number in memory which would connect me to someone who would expect to hear from the President when that number showed up on caller ID. I reported to that person what I’d seen and how the President was failing to react. Then I handed him the cell phone and told him the call was for him. He took the phone with ill grace and began yacking with the person on the other end.

    It was at this point that I decided to head back down the railroad tracks. I’d been perfectly willing to stay there and die to do some good, but not to watch the President twiddle his thumbs.

  3. Switching to a total different topic, although still US politics: Did you already hear any news about Bill Richardson?


  4. cool pics

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