Roy
Farewell our Curmudgeon Administrator
A friend sent me this! /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/grin.gif
Have you noticed anything fishy about the inspection teams arriving in
Iraq?
They're all men! How in the name of the United Nations does anyone expect
men to find Saddams stash? We all know that men have a blind spot when it
comes to finding things. For crying out loud! Men can't find the dirty
clothes hamper. Men can't find the jar of jelly until it falls out of the
cupboard and splatters on the floor.... and these are the people we have
sent into Iraq to search for hidden weapons of mass destruction?
I keep wondering why groups of mothers weren't sent in. Mothers can sniff
out secrets quicker than a drug dog can find a gram of dope. Mothers can
find gin bottles that dads have stashed in the attic beneath the rafters.
They can sniff out a diary two rooms and one floor away. They can tell
when the lid of a cookie jar has been disturbed and notice when a quarter-inch
slice has been shaved off a chocolate cake. A mother can smell alcohol on
your breath before you get your key in the front door and can smell
cigarette smoke from a block away. By examining laundry, a mother knows
more about their kids than Sherlock Holmes. And if a mother wants an answer to
a question, she can read an offender's eyes quicker than a homicide
detective.
So... considering the value a mother could bring to an inspection team,
why are we sending a bunch of old men who will rely on electronic equipment
to scout out hidden threats?
My mother would walk in with a wooden soup spoon
in one hand, grab Saddam by the ear, give it a good twist and snap, "Young man,
do you have any weapons of mass destruction?" And God help him if he tried to
lie to her. She'd march him down the street to some secret bunker and shove
his nose into a nuclear bomb and say "Uh, huh, and what do you call this,
mister?" Whap! Thump! Whap! Whap! Whap! And she would lay some stripes across
his bare bottom with that soup spoon, then march him home in front of the whole
of Baghdad. He would not only come clean and apologize for lying about it,
he would cut every lawn in Baghdad for free for the whole damn summer.
Inspectors my ***... You want the job done? Call my mother!
Have you noticed anything fishy about the inspection teams arriving in
Iraq?
They're all men! How in the name of the United Nations does anyone expect
men to find Saddams stash? We all know that men have a blind spot when it
comes to finding things. For crying out loud! Men can't find the dirty
clothes hamper. Men can't find the jar of jelly until it falls out of the
cupboard and splatters on the floor.... and these are the people we have
sent into Iraq to search for hidden weapons of mass destruction?
I keep wondering why groups of mothers weren't sent in. Mothers can sniff
out secrets quicker than a drug dog can find a gram of dope. Mothers can
find gin bottles that dads have stashed in the attic beneath the rafters.
They can sniff out a diary two rooms and one floor away. They can tell
when the lid of a cookie jar has been disturbed and notice when a quarter-inch
slice has been shaved off a chocolate cake. A mother can smell alcohol on
your breath before you get your key in the front door and can smell
cigarette smoke from a block away. By examining laundry, a mother knows
more about their kids than Sherlock Holmes. And if a mother wants an answer to
a question, she can read an offender's eyes quicker than a homicide
detective.
So... considering the value a mother could bring to an inspection team,
why are we sending a bunch of old men who will rely on electronic equipment
to scout out hidden threats?
My mother would walk in with a wooden soup spoon
in one hand, grab Saddam by the ear, give it a good twist and snap, "Young man,
do you have any weapons of mass destruction?" And God help him if he tried to
lie to her. She'd march him down the street to some secret bunker and shove
his nose into a nuclear bomb and say "Uh, huh, and what do you call this,
mister?" Whap! Thump! Whap! Whap! Whap! And she would lay some stripes across
his bare bottom with that soup spoon, then march him home in front of the whole
of Baghdad. He would not only come clean and apologize for lying about it,
he would cut every lawn in Baghdad for free for the whole damn summer.
Inspectors my ***... You want the job done? Call my mother!
