Make Love Not War
Mar. 14th, 2003 04:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
40cakesBlame ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
k_diddy.
George Bush, "Dubya" to his friends, stepped out of Air Force One and wiped his brow. These damn middle eastern countries could get so damned hot. Hadn't these damn people invented air conditioning yet? Maybe the UN could build a damn Sears here after this whole conflict was over. And an Orange Julius. I sure could use a damn smoothie right now, he mused.
But there was no time to continue the thought, for up ahead, flanked by armed guards, was the reason he was here. Sadaam Hussein, the most evil man alive today, stood with his arms crossed, frown on face, and the cutest little beret atop his head.
Wait...had he actually thought that? How could he? That was the same dumb hat those crazy French wore, and they were part of the reason he had been sent here. The UN decided that he should try for some peace talks before heading to war. Peace talks my ass. We should just nuke 'im and be done with it. Dubya frowned back at Hussein as he walked past him into the palace.
Sadaam rolled his eyes. Why did this American pig have to come here? Couldn't they have done this over videophone or instant message? No, the UN insisted they talk face to face. He frowned even harder, if possible. That they would believe he could talk on the same level as this moron, this idiot with his puppy-dog eyes and earlobes that were just begging to be nibbled.
He gasped and put a hand to his mouth. What lewd thoughts his mind had devised! The leader of the Western world had been here no longer than five minutes, and already he was corrupting him. That idiot had to be gotten rid of. Sadaam would agree to anything, just to make him go home. Just to see that ass sashay back up to his plane...
(A/N: That's it. I'm tired. No more.)
>^..^
k_diddy. George Bush, "Dubya" to his friends, stepped out of Air Force One and wiped his brow. These damn middle eastern countries could get so damned hot. Hadn't these damn people invented air conditioning yet? Maybe the UN could build a damn Sears here after this whole conflict was over. And an Orange Julius. I sure could use a damn smoothie right now, he mused.
But there was no time to continue the thought, for up ahead, flanked by armed guards, was the reason he was here. Sadaam Hussein, the most evil man alive today, stood with his arms crossed, frown on face, and the cutest little beret atop his head.
Wait...had he actually thought that? How could he? That was the same dumb hat those crazy French wore, and they were part of the reason he had been sent here. The UN decided that he should try for some peace talks before heading to war. Peace talks my ass. We should just nuke 'im and be done with it. Dubya frowned back at Hussein as he walked past him into the palace.
Sadaam rolled his eyes. Why did this American pig have to come here? Couldn't they have done this over videophone or instant message? No, the UN insisted they talk face to face. He frowned even harder, if possible. That they would believe he could talk on the same level as this moron, this idiot with his puppy-dog eyes and earlobes that were just begging to be nibbled.
He gasped and put a hand to his mouth. What lewd thoughts his mind had devised! The leader of the Western world had been here no longer than five minutes, and already he was corrupting him. That idiot had to be gotten rid of. Sadaam would agree to anything, just to make him go home. Just to see that ass sashay back up to his plane...
(A/N: That's it. I'm tired. No more.)
>^..^
