Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Who gives the orders around here anyway?


I told you that Hellier and his brown-nosed Tory backbench cheerleaders were trying to grass my ass. But for him to virtually call me a liar by omission takes the fucking fudge cake, pardon my French. Look I've cut him some slack on his camo-photo-ops since he's a serving militico but that fast-talking Newfie is not going to have my job while I can still breathe.

First Hellier makes some wild claim that the Afghan Army won't be ready to take on security for a least a decade which, although it may be technically true, directly conflicts with the spirit my stated date of 2011.

Then he has the utter gall not to correct his mistake or retract his date but to waffle on some "we're all on the same page" crap -- as if I knew all along wink-wink that the 2011 date was just a convenient fiction.

Hello? I am the freaking Canadian Commander-in-Chief or what? (Or at least I will be when I change the Constitution or approve the merger with the US.) Some trumped-up little tin-star general doesn't go around contradicting me.

Sure Hellier can probably back up his date with some kind of military-speak acronym-filled mumbo-jumbo but my date was not only government policy but it has a much more important and sophisticated analysis behind it -- in a word, electability. That has a much more far-reaching impact on government policy that whether the Afghan Army can fight their way out of a wet paper opium bag.

I think General Assmunch must have landed on his head too many times playing with the paratroopers. And here's a word of free advice Brigadier Bonehead: lay-off the touchy-feely Rick Mercer appearances and the constant war-is-hell photo-ops -- it looks like you are trying too hard to be PM. Disinterested and slack-jawed wins the day, just look at how well it worked for Cretin.

Hellier is an egomaniac loose cannon who should be court-martialed for insubordination and is the second to last person on earth who I would want to succeed me as leader. Unfortunately, Peter Pan is the very last person on earth so I can't dump Hellier.

Peter Pan is like a walking advertisement for impotence - they should put his picture in all those viagra emails. I told him that his one and only file is Afghanistan and he promised me he could handle it like a man. I told him I would take care of the true north star strong and free arctic sovereignty beat, so that he could put all his thrust into Kandahar.

How does he repay my trust? The good ship Peter Pan finally limps in to Kandahar this week --traveling at wimp factor nine -- only three months too late. Not only has Kid Coderre beat him there (and shaved his Kandahar-Cup beard) but so have Max and Oda, Casey and Finnigin from Mr. Dressup, Tickle-Me-Elmo and Spotty Sam -- a acne-pocked 14-year-old charter member of bed-wetters anonymous.

Peter Pan is the only red-blooded caucasian on the planet that could actually be out-manned by the raghead Afghan army. He and Hillier are a perfectly matched couple. They should go out together for Halloween as Torvill and Dean or, better yet, Bluto and Olive Oyl -- they cancel each other out and keep El Presidente Popeye in the green.

By sinking them both in the Afghanistan quagmire I can keep the leadership rivals, real and imaginary, stuck in the mud.

God bless the New Command-In-Chief of Canada

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