SADDAM HUSSEIN -- WHY WASTE THE ROPE?

Kill Saddam? Why waste the rope? Do not celebrate the death of Saddam Hussein. It is a sad day when a world renown figure dies. Even one who was as cruel as Saddam is reported to have been. It is an even sadder day when that figure dies because of the vengeful acts of a power mongering rival world leader. Saddam Hussein died a long time ago. When his foray into Kuwait was thwarted by the "Desert Storm" campaign, he died. he was alive but his country was his coffin. He could do nothing. He could go nowhere. Even his airplanes were boxed in, to the point where he had them buried in the sand. He had become a non-entity. He was nothing but a tin-can dictator in a country that had nothing left to offer the world but the Babylonian antiques on display. The only reason why the United States was engaged in Iraq was that George W. Bush wanted to avenge the threat that Saddam had made on George H.W. Bush's life during "Desert Storm". There were no WMD, there was not, and still is not, a profitable oil producing industry, there was not a powerful armed services. In fact there was not even a well organized and well managed government. Among all those negatives, there was one positive: the government, for what it was worth, was secular. Now why would the United States want to upset that situation? To save lives? No way. Lives don't mean anything to the United States. Ask the Ruwandans; ask the Ethiopians; Ask the Sudanese; Ask the Somalians; Ask the Burmese, the Ugandans, Finally, ask the Darfurians. If you care to, read the history of the Holocaust and then ask the Jewish people if the United States valued life then. Of course they didn't.
Do not celebrate the execution of Saddam Hussein. Here was a living challenger to the American way of governance. Saddam was not afraid to gore some of our sacred cows. In his death, he confronts us with our very own sanctimonious conviction that we respect life more than he did. How do we prove that by celebrating his death? We have his blood on our hands. The revenge that we took out on him by deposing him and "bringing him to justice" prove that in our own way we too are dictators. In our own way, we place ourselves in the same league with God and decide whether a person lives or dies. We easily make the jump from, "It's my body" to "It's my world" and I'll make you a democratic republic whether you like it or not, even at the cost of the life of your leader.
We sit here in the United States and we disparage the Muslims because of their disregard for the value of life. How did we prove that we respect life more than they by taking the life of Saddam? How does our Christian President make the case that Christians consider life the most valuable gift that is? This Christian President of ours doesn't seem to be the least bit disturbed by his sponsorship of the deah of Saddam. This Christian president of ours has caused more death and irreparable pain in the lives of tens of thousands of people in the name of his own agrandisement -- his legacy. This doesn't appear to me to be a very good case for making Christians look good in comparison to Muslims.
Finally, I'm not an E-Bay person, but if one of you sees the rope listed on E-Bay, buy it and send it to Dr. Dean in Burlington, Vermont. He may find good use for it.

CIRCLE OF INCOMPETENCE

You're not going to believe this. This is a relation concerning office management realities that sound too bad to be true. I guarantee that all these verbographs are true. I have heard them all over 30 years of human resources experience.

He's been with the company for 25 years.
She's the founder's wife, so we humor her. ($100,000 p/yr. joke)
They're illegal, but they work hard.
She doesn't make that many mistakes. We can usually catch them.
The vendor charges more than we like, but we've been doing business for years.
The vendor (same) won't come out to fix or replace our computer because he has too much work.
She does excellent work when she's here.
I keep her for humanitarian reasons.
I miss a lot of work because my son has to use the car.
I didn't tell you that he was taking the money because I thought you would fire me.
We weren't being harassed, we liked it and we were having fun.
Is this the first report you have of his harassing female employees? No. It's the third time.
We're going to make 'em work on Friday even if it is a holiday. It's not a big, important one anyway.
If you don't like it, sue us. (They did. The Company lost. Oops, there goes $5 million)
OSHA ? Tell 'em to get lost. We're busy. They should make an appointment. ("They" did) The appointment hasn't ended yet.
We don't hire their kind here. (Now they don't hire anyone, they're in prison.)
It's OK, you can sign it. If they want their money, they can sue us.
I thought it would be OK to be late for the interview.
I can't fire him, he's black.
Hire her, we need more white people here.
I don't care if we have no designated parking, put my name on the closest parking space.
I don't care if the new owners are coming, this is my vacation time.
You promised me a bonus. I want it. (He caused a $2 million loss)
We hired her to help you. (I quit, she lasted 4 months)
He drinks a lot, but that's how he functions best.
Why did you hire someone as ugly as her?
I'm just testing her by taking more and more responsibilities away from her.

Trust me, I didn't make any of this stuff up.

NO APOLOGY NEEDED, THANK YOU

Benedict XVI will not apologize to the Muslim People. He spoke the truth about Islam in
Germany about one week ago. He knows it. The Muslim religious leaders know it. The
Christian Theologians and Historians know it too. The Pope will not apologize for speaking the truth. I don't blame him and neither should you. Those of you who are reading this should also spend some time on search sites and educate yourselves about this controversy.

PS You Ivy League Oligarchs on Pennsylvania Avenue should ask the pope for some guidance on this. He would no doubt tell you that the French were dead right on this one.

To the Lady with the Tattoo

Ah, what a sight! There I was standing in the doorway, holding the heavy door open for your convenience as you helped your beautiful daughter cross the sidewalk and gain entry to the vestibule. She is so tall and so classic in her presentation of herself. She was clad in white satin, a perfect sculpture, an enrapturing goddess framed in the gothic church door with a 1,000 watt smile, appropriate for her day.

Ah, what a sight!2 You too were quite a sight. Ebony hair waving around about your shoulders as if it had been conditioned for a television commercial. Your shiny, deep brown eyes, high cheek bones and luscious sensually puffed out lips all highlighting a stunning light chestnut complexion. The proximity of your extraordinarily attractive skin moving lithely around the off-setting pure white of your daughter's pre-teen presence was stunningly artistic.

Ah, what a sight!3 Saving the best for last, I have to say that I was really swayed by the top half of your left breast which was decorated with a rather brazen tattoo. It is a mgnificent breast, a fitting companion for the one on the right. Glowing, gently bobbing, animating the tattoo so that it danced on the edge of the cloth that was either trying to hide it or succeeding very well in enhancing the presentation. It was all the more enjoyable because you were not paying the slightest bit of attention to me, only to your daughter trying to get through the door without snagging her magnificent gown. It was one of the more enjoyable 45 or 50 seconds of my life, and right in church too! This whole thing was climaxed by your eyes meeting mine and our lips communicating happiness and satisfaction by mutually complementing smiles. You then completed your entry, and I, my exit. But I'll never forget it.

I guess I'll never know whether to be disappointed or not that this all happened in church. I still haven't decided whether or not I should feel guilty for the prurient pleasure that I experienced for about one minute or whether I should cast the pall of guilt over to you for daring to appear in church on the day of your daughter's first communion with your sexual assets so audaciously exposed. I suppose I should thank God for allowing me the concupiscent pleasure at the sight of one of His more magnificent successes. I often wonder if you set out on a mission to broadcast God's gifts of glorious beauty in two rather complementary examples, one pre-pubescent and the other, ripe and succulent, sweet to the bone.
Conclusion: I've decided to enjoy the glory of God's creation as He exposed it to me that day in His church. I've decided that He sent you to me and to the others who derived similar pleasure from your well shaped and tastefully decorated anatomy. My experience tells me that after first communion the next time you will be at the door of the church, your feet will precede your breasts. By then, I will have been told by the guardian at the pearly gates whether I have sinned or not in the enjoyment of your body. Therefore, I wish you well, and I beg of you, when you go to church the next time, please cover your assets.