From the pen of a Redneck with a library card and conceal-carry permit

by Jim Floyd

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. . . . . This is not a forged document!

"My war was fought with the cream of the crop.
Not like that last war, which was fought with the dregs of society."
President George Herbert Walker Bush
1992, on Desert Storm vs. Viet Nam

. . . . . G.W., you poor baby. That mean old Dan Rather and CBS lied about you and yo daddy. Nuke that bastard, George; you can kill your way out of this.

. . . . . Call our Deputy Fuhrer, that great war-stud, 'Deferment Dick' Cheney; he thinks you can kill your way out of any problem, get one of those Jew-o-cons to think-up a catchy name for the operation, something with the word 'Just' in it, then put one of your Dr. Strangelove type generals in charge with orders to preempt with surgical precision.

. . . . . Take care that the team has been properly trained by the Israelis; perhaps, a Mossad agent should be there to interrogate any survivors, broom handles, electric wires for their genitals, dogs, piss sacks, lots of feces, you know the routine.

. . . . . As for me, Mein Fuhrer, I have had a complete change of heart. My honor is my loyalty and I swear to you loyalty unto death. I remember you saying that we are either with you or with the terrorists, Sieg Heil! (Well-being and victory.)

. . . . . Starting today, I will do anything to convince my fellow veterans that you are not, were not, just another privileged little snot of a rich kid who dodged Viet Nam with the help of a wealthy, politically powerful, family.

. . . . . Oh, I have been so cruel to you and your daddy. Thank G-d and Fox News, I have seen the error of my vile ways. This morning I am asking all my readers, and especially my brother vets, to destroy the article I wrote back in ninety-two in which I quoted yo daddy;

"My war was fought with the cream of the crop.
Not like that last war, which was fought with the dregs of society."
. . . . . I called yo daddy a son of a bitch and demanded that he go to that black granite wall and apologize to the fifty-eight-plus thousand dead soldiers for calling them scum, waste, dregs of society.

. . . . . But that was then, before I saw the light and heard the truth. I can't fight it any longer. I'm tired of being out-of-step with TV, radio, and the Jew Press. Last week, the truth came to me over the radio. We have a radio-Jew in Birmingham with callers who are dead-mule-dumb, so-called Christian-Zionists, but I now know that G-d is using these people. G-d uses jackasses to confound the rest of us.

. . . . . Well, one of the most mentally challenged asses that I've ever heard called in to say that the hand of G-d had kept you out of Viet Nam and saved you, so you could be our leader. This village idiot went on to say that the Jew talk show host, who also managed to avoid Nam, had been spared, by G-d, so he could do his great radio work.

. . . . . Oh, wonder of wonders, WOW! Just think about it, the hand of G-d dragging yo lounge lizard butt from bar to bar, and packing yo head with coke, and all the time saving you for this moment.

. . . . . Mr. President, G-d doesn't talk to me like he does to you and your spiritual friends. You said that G-d told you to invade Iraq. John Hagee said that "This war was planned in heaven," another said that we didn't elect you, that G-d did. Pat Robertson said that G-d told him that you will win this election. Kenneth Copeland said that G-d told him that, "America and Israel are fighting for Jesus," and that anyone talking bad about you is talking bad about Christ.

. . . . . I'm telling all my readers to stop blaming you for failures in Iraq. If G-d told you to do these things then we should blame G-d, right, not you? Oh, how I wish G-d would talk to me instead of just leaving notes.

. . . . . You love our troops don't you, George? Yo daddy loves our vets, doesn't he? What can I say? Like Dan Rather my head is bowed, my tail is between my legs and "I'm sorry."

. . . . . Of course, my conversion, like yours and most others, is not complete. I've still got problems with that 'flowers, chocolate candy, and dancing with us in the streets of Baghdad' thing.

. . . . . Then there is that 'go pill' amphetamine thing. Did G-d tell you to give our Servicemen/women, pilots even, drugs? Are these drugs to ease the pain of dying, or to make them more aggressive, or to sear their consciences?

. . . . . It saddens me to think of a young American, over a thousand young Americans, blown-up, shot to pieces, while their minds were enveloped in a fog of government-issued drugs. Say it ain't so, please.

. . . . . And it sticks in my craw, Brother George, when you bring them home as un-known soldiers. We don't see their return, or hear their names, and seldom watch their burials. All we hear is some dirt-road-news-whore saying something like, 'By the way, five Marines died today in Baghdad,' and many times not even that, just a notice on the ticker-tape across the bottom of the tube.

. . . . . Damn-it-to-hell man, we already have an un-known soldier! We don't need anymore.

. . . . . Oh no, no, no, I feel meself slipping, slip sliding away, backsliding! Help me, please; I'm falling back into my old fantasy where I see meself as G-d's muckraker, in the tradition of Elijah, Jeremiah, or that greatest of all muckrakers, John the Baptist.

. . . . . It's coming to me, yes, I see it all. I see you, George, and I feel your optimism. You are in a barn, a barn full of horse shit; you are digging, feverishly digging, and laughing. Someone is asking you why you dig and why you are so happy. I hear your answer, yes; you are saying that with all this horse shit there has to be a pony down there somewhere!

. . . . . Oh, but George, the interpretation of this vision is simple; the horse shit is Iraq and I feel lead, in my spirit, to tell you that there ain't no pony down there. I see war, civil and uncivil. I see death, chaos, and America troops who have lost all faith in their commanders. I see Officers who give orders and then deny involvement. Men doing what they were told to do and then being forced to admit guilt, total guilt, plea bargaining, and saying what they are told to say in order to get short jail sentences.

. . . . . I hear no oral orders, nor do I see written orders. I see only the much condemned 'wink and a nod,' and the kind of strong 'presidential government' which repulsed the world in 1933.

. . . . . My G-d man, did I really hear you issue a Fatwa, death sentence against Yassa Arafat, yesterday, at the UN? You truly are Ariel Sharon's bitch! . . . . . I see history, verily, verily; I say unto you, history will not be kind to any of you. Rumsfeld, Richard Perle, Paul Wolfowitz, Douglas Feith, Stephen Bryen, etc., etc. all these beastly little Khazar-War-Jews and their butt-wipes, these parasitic pimples on the buttock of America will have no part in our history, not even a foot note.

. . . . . What will last a thousand years are those pictures; those Abu Ghraib, vulgar pictures. America is the land of voyeurs. Pictures are everything. We see a picture of a spoon and fork, on a highway signboard, and we become hungry. When we need to relieve ourselves we look for a picture with a dress or without a dress, on a toilet door. A picture of naked women, on a government computer, is invaluably real and alive to the denizens of Washington D.C.

. . . . . The picture of that prisoner, standing naked, with feces smeared over his body will follow you to the grave and beyond. These pictures will define who you and your administration were and will make a thing of pity of your progeny to the tenth generation. So it is written, so be it.

. . . . . To be continued. . . .

Bishop James Floyd
Master Prophet and G-d's Muckraker
And I approve this message.

Next:

Y Madonna wants to be Esther, A.G. John Ashcroft wants to be King David.
. . . . . . Madonna don't know Esther from estrogen. Ashcroft anointed with Crisco oil, not Olive oil. G-d hates Crisco oil.

Y Cat Stevens you are welcome to my home. Next time wear a yarmulke. Terrorist wearing yarmulkes fly without harassment.

Y A.P. "Ridge said the intelligence that put the singer's name on the list came from outside the United States, but he would not reveal the source." Say Jew -- say Israel -- say elephant in the living room.

Y A word of knowledge to Mary Cheney:
. . . . . . Compare G.W.s handling of our money and his daughter's virginity. (Frugality)

Y My conversation with Kerry's Jew in waiting, Wendy Sherman, Foreign Policy Advisor.

YPentecostal fellatio, Dr. Paul Crotch, Trinity Broadcast Network. (The price of a dog.)

Y November, the Great American Jew-Out, as in Smoke-Out. Y Texas, give it to Mexico, stop all commerce in politics and theology. Ban all radical clerics and nit-wit politicians from crossing new border.

YThe world loves Michael Collins Piper and so do I.

. . . . And much more. . . .

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