Each election year, Family Circle magazine holds an Election Cookie Cock-up to find Americansâ€™ favorite Cock-ups of the election season. This year, President Bush shares a recipe for her delicious Oatmeal-Chocolate Chunk Cock-up. Hereâ€™s the recipe:
4 reports from Hans Blix
1 “material breach” of the UN resolution 1441
1 small phial of Anthrax
1 1/2 cups (3 sticks) Niger Uranium, at room temperature
1 link between Saddam Hussein and al-Qaida
6 nights of shock and awe
10,000 dead Iraqi civilians
1 Saddam Hussein
5 instances of POW torture in Abu Ghraib prison
1 Falluja uprising
1 transferred sovereignty
855 dead US soldiers
Heat international climate to 350Â°. With electric mixer, cream reports, resolution 1441, Anthrax and Niger Uranium. Beat prisoners one at a time, then beat in hearts and minds. Add Saddam, Falluja uprising and shock and awe; slowly beat until country fucked up. Stir-up anti-american hatred. Slowly mould the enitre mess into half arsed solution using 87bn dollars or other peoples money. Bake at 350Â° for 12 to 15 minutes, until full democracy restored. Export to other middle-east countries.
Little Illustration to back up yesterday’s post
Tony: small, quick, dark of face and eyes, restless
Dubya: huge, shapeless, pale eyes, slow moving
Colin: stable buck, had a back injury
Sadam: Boss’ son, short, once a welterweight boxer
Rummie: jerkline skinner, local authority
Condoleezza: old swamper, missing one hand
Hot Thursday late afternoon. Tony and Dubya spend the night on a ranch, a few miles south of Crawford, Texas. They plan to start work in the UN farm the next day and dream of making enough money to get their very own farm.
Tony tells Dubya ‘The farm got a little shack on it, an’ a chicken run. Got a kitchen, orchard, cherries, apples, peaches, ‘cots, nuts, got a few berries. They’s a place for alfalfa and plenty of water to flood it. They’s a pig pen and lots and lots of rabbits’
‘I likes rabbits’ says Dubya
The next day Tony and Dubya sign up to a U.N. Security Council resolution on the U.N. farm. Sadam tries to pick a fight with Dubya. Tony reminds Dubya where to hide if there’s trouble. Dubya wants a puppie.
Tony tells Rummie, Dubya grabbed a red-dressed girl in Crawford. Dubya gets a puppie. When everyone from the Sec urity Council returns, Saddam annoys Dubya until Tony tells Dubya to “get him.” Dubya crushes Saddam’s hand. Rummie orders the media to say it was a WMD accident.
While the rest play war, Dubya kills his puppy in the barn. Saddam’s two sons Quasi and Uday show up. Dubya explains his fondness for soft things, and they encourage him to stroke thier hair. When they want him to stop he breaks their necks out of fear. Dubya does all he knows and runs and hides. Condoleezza finds Quasi and Uday and brings Tony. When the Iraqis find out Saddam goes for his WMD, but it’s missing and he assumes Dubya took it. Condoleezza stays with the bodies while all go after Dubya.
Dubya comes to a river. A huge imaginary rabbit tells him Tony will leave him. Tony shows up and reassures Dubya. Dubya asks Tony ‘Tell me like you done before’ so while they talk of their dream, Tony puts the WMD to the base of Dubya’s skull and fires. When the men see Dubya everyone assumes Tony took the WMD from him and shot him. Rummie says “You hadda, Tony,” and takes him for a drink.
There was once a Prime Minister who wished to forge a special relationship with a President; but then he must be a real President. He traveled all over the world in hope of finding such a President; but there was always something wrong. Presidents he found in plenty; but whether they were a real war loving President it was impossible for him to decide, for now one thing, now another, seemed to him not quite right about the Presidents. At last he returned to his terrace house in Downing Street quite cast down, because he wished so much to have a real President for his partner.
One evening a fearful tempest arose, it thundered and lightened, and the rain poured down from the sky in torrents: besides, it was as dark as pitch. All at once there was heard a violent knocking at the door, and the iron lady, the Prime Minister‘s predecessor, who just would not leave, went out herself to open it.
It was a President who was standing outside the door. What with the rain and the wind, he was in a sad condition; the water trickled down from his hair, and his clothes clung to his body. He said he was a real President.
“Ah! we shall soon see that!” thought the old iron lady; however, she said not a word of what she was going to do; but went quietly into the bedroom, took all the bed-clothes off the bed, and put three little peas on the bedstead. She then laid twenty mattresses one upon another over the three peas, and put twenty feather beds over the mattresses.
Upon this bed the President was to pass the night.
The next morning he was asked how he had slept. “Oh, very badly indeed!” he replied. “I have scarcely closed my eyes the whole night through. I do not know what was in my bed, but I had something hard under me, and am all over black and blue. It has hurt me so much!”
Now it was plain that the man must be a real President, since he had been able to feel the three little peas through the twenty mattresses and twenty feather beds. None but a real President could have had such a delicate sense of feeling.
The Prime Minister accordingly made him his special friend; being now convinced that he had found a real President. The three peas were however put into the cabinet of curiosities, where they are still to be seen, provided they are not lost.
Wasn’t this a President of real delicacy?
Mostly By Hans Christian Andersen.