Israel and Broomhilda, my first ex-wife
This whole Middle East mishegos is starting to feel like my first marriage, which mostly involved me doing the big old hairy mea-culpa dance, for everything, in-fucking-advance. I'd wake up, look over at Broomhilda (who was conveniently named after her preferred method of transportation), and say sweetly: "Look, you, I'm now conscious and as such acknowledge my blame for everything that will occur in the next 24 hours. For this, I humbly beseech your forgiveness, forebearance, patience, and overall general non-twatty reaction for events yet to come."Now, in Israel's case, world opinion, fed by the BBC and Agence-France Presse and CNN and Reuters, takes the place of my wife. Apologize, so sorry, it's all on us, our bad, we know, we're terrible, what do you expect, we're Jews, we're guilty guilty guilty.
Back to Broomhilda. Her reaction to my daily pre-emptive apology was dismissive and she could get away with it: she was a slutty whore cheating bitch, but damn she looked good. A former model, she was an "aeroplane blonde"--blonde on top, but with a black box--I'd still do her even today, albeit with two condoms on plus a muzzle over her mouth. And just like Israel, my number one goal with ol' Broomie was to accomplish my own daily "incursion into Lebanon". As often as possible, enter the strange country. Insert forces deep into enemy territory. Shower it with lottsa warheads. Then, take a break: R&R once every 28 days or so.
In the words of the great Max Kaufman: "I never knew what real happiness was until I got married. And by then it was too late."
Go, IDF. Kick their rageddy sand-eating asses.
posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 12:07 PM
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