Beware, Fearless Leader.
As George W. Bush recently discovered, alienating one’s most loyal followers is a mistake.
We’ve been good. We blogged, faithfully, prior to Duke City, and afterward. We trained. We showed up at Duke City. We finished, one of us despite surgery.
You were there with us. We didn’t look like Amway salesmen as we crossed that line, did we? Hell, no. We looked like warriors, every one. We crossed the finish line, limping and bloody. Triumphant. We took you in our arms.
We didn’t vote you in, so we can’t depose you.
But we can track you down and kick your ass.
3 comments:
Having had an evening of lovin' with my honey, I'm feeling rather more mellow this morning. I substitute, then, a photograph of Adolph Malan, ace fighter pilot and squad leader.
I don't want to have that other picture on my blog now that Halloween is over, anyway.
I was never upset at you for real, mein Fuhrer. You just needed a little yanking up.
Superior? Hmmm. There are men out there who fit that description, men who can do anything - trim trees, roto-root my sewer lines, change the oil on my car, write a love poem, run long distances and read to me all evening, followed by . . . followed by . . . (sigh).
(Just a moment here - I need to pause for reflection . . .)
What was I saying? Oh, yes, I know at least one man who fits the description "superior sex." And I know a few more who would be much more aptly labeled the "posterior sex."
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