I was able to get ESPN on my Blackberry from the waiting room at Victory Base in Baghdad. Rains and even snow continue to fall in the Philadelphia area, delaying the suspended game five. Beware, Phillies, the caprices of the baseball gods and 3-1 leads when nature gets involved.
Bertie Ernesto had lost none of his vim, after getting worked over by the 1st Cavalry Security.
“Let’s go, eh? We’ve got to get back to the States! There’s only a week to go!”
“So, you’re done with Track?”
My half-brother had come to Iraq last month, dedicated to the preservation of life and limb of the GOPVEEP candidate’s oldest son.
“Palin is a shitbird! They’re cosseting him here like he was a Bush child! He’s playing cards with generals! Come on, let’s go!”
“Back to Nader?”
Bertie had been a fervent supporter of Nader’s Ticket, a saber-rattling truth seeker against corporate hegemony and the two-party system.
“If I’ve said it once, Pierre, I’ve said it a thousand times! The greatest thing Bush ever did for the Democrats was steal the 2000 election! Everybody wants the illusion of change and, I say, let’s get it to them the sooner the better! Our fight has not yet begun, and if we don’t high tail our Nuck Butts back Stateside, those goddamn republicans might just steal another one!”
“Nom Dieu, mon frere, what can two Canadians do? Besides, I’m Qubecer.”
“Regardless, you dirty frog, I’m going taking it to the battlegrounds! Are you coming or not?”
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