"Boldly springing into action", (One of the best tracks ever from "Billy the Mountain" - Frank Zappa & The Mothers of Invention - Listen to it, have a
drink, and let the spluging begin!) Congress, in a fit of pique, decrees that the State Department, led from behind by H.R. Clinton, shall from
henceforth be the agency that will set the conditions of angst, since our state department seems to have they're hands on the pulse of basically,
themselves! ( they do tend to ge' a wee bit faint, ya kin?) The conditions and details, dictated but not read, (Sound familiar?) as follows:
1. Condition One - Code Word "Throbbin" Compartment - "Johns"
Denotes the way the world would be feeling, like you did after that ubber-hideous clam-bake @ John Kerry's
Tax Haven, er Boat Basin (in a coarse whisper - "Did I say that out loud? - Sound Famliar-er!) and you ralphed all over you brand new
2. Condition X-ray Code Word "Frisky" Compartment - "Puppy"
Denotes the way the world would be feeling like when you know, they made you wait in the hallway at the Crawford Ranch, when you where just a "paper
pusher" in the document library, Ugh! Remember? George's
stinking hunting dogs chewed holes through the bumpers on you two year old 'gently used' Prius! You were 'Nippy" and "Pouting" that whole afternoon,
must of been at least 2 hours!
3. Condition Verp - Code Word - Vomit - Compartment - "Sheen"
Denotes the way the world would feel if it were like that time Uncle Tip and Uncle Teddy asked you to go deep sea fishing, in August, with no wind,
no clouds, and a 3 foot swell, and a projected temp of 98 degrees. But when you get to the dock you find out they only need you to 'chum'. By the time
you returned to the dock, you feel like you've been puking blood since Davey Jones was a Seaman 1st. You understand something 'vile' has transpired
when the bomb sniffing dogs won't get more than 30 feet from you, and that's on the UPWIND side. By the time you get back to Uncle Tip's house, you
are drifting through periods of dementia with lucid periods that let you feel the sensation of ten feral housecats sharpening they're claws on your
digestive tract. As your bed completes it's first couple of revolutions you drift further into the blessed arms of death, you hope. Morning. You
eyelids are on fire. You remember Uncle Teddy putting up the blinds on your window, giggling the whole time. You can hear the footsteps fading down
the hallway of your mind. It's your self preservation heading down to the pub for a wee dram. Which means, you are utterly stunned when you open your
eyes. The Sun is bright, and it BURNS!
The radiation coursing through you retina feels like someone stabbed you in both eyes with an ice pick, and then poured in a hefty serving of molten
boron! You are sure your mouth tastes at least as bad as the bottom scummy layer in the grease dumpster at the waffle house on the corner. On a day
like yesterday no less. You think your gonna be ok, but you sit up. So you think, this is what it feels like when pain installs a turbo sold by a
company called AGONY! Your journey to the dark side is now complete. You are now Darth Stihl, Chainsaw Proctologist.
Note to the world - when the USA sets Condition Verp, phone it in that day! Because, Nukes are number one on the remedies list, and we promise you'll
get them in 30 minutes or less, or the next thermo-nuclear gift basket is free! The state department hopes that by telling our enemies how we are
doing that day, they will have a better understanding of what we think the should know about us. In this case, a healthy knowledge of the process of
Nuclear Fission would help. A compassionate offer of a magnum bottle of ice cold Pepto might just keep our finger of the button that day. As Darth
Stihl heads down stairs for that first cup of java, he begins to take twisted pleasure in the fantasy of his Mom beating Uncle Tip mercilessly with a
piece of re-bar. At just that moment, the rabid squirrels begin gnawing a door into the attic of your brain, and you reach a new level of pissed off
at the Death guy who never showed up, no matter how hard you begged!
edit on 19/4/2013 by CarbonBase because: spelling?
on 19/4/2013 by CarbonBase because: Spelling, Content, Naseau. I get that way when I hear H.R. Clinton