Dateline: somewhere deep in the bowels of the Green Zone
The news hit Colonel Pooner and I this morning - the news of the Bush administration's plan to add another level of management to solve the problems with the Iraq War - and I might add, it hit this old war horse with all the intrigue of a young teenage girl's intrigue with sex. Yeah, I was excited.
Colonel Pooner was taking his morning poop when I told him of the news. The look on his face when I told him was definitely a "Kodak" moment. My only wish was that I had a camera to record that look at that precise moment in time. But sadly, I didn't have a "Kodak", or even my beloved "Swinger" to capture the expression Colonel Pooner had. And sadly, the only thing I did have - and to be honest, I wished my nostrils were not working at 100% capacity at that time - was my sense of smell.
The smell was putrid, but then again, that is normal. Colonel Pooner poops just like he commands his troops. Yeah, gung ho and full steam ahead! One can see the passion of Colonel Pooner's philosophy of take no prisoners, and it shows best when he is pooping.
"Pooner!" I screamed out as I run outside to whence he was squatted.
"President Bush, the commander-in-chief, has decided to create a new position in the military chain of command to take the pressure off himself! That will show those "naysayers" and "defeatist" democrat that the buck stops somewhere else!" I added, as the full scent of Pooner's struggles quickly permeated my old war weary nose.
"What posit.......ion will this b.......e?" Pooner's voice strained as he questioned me. As his last word seeped from his mouth, a large, brown, smelly package snaked it's way from his war weary, white as chalk, arse to the light brown sand below. Yes, his "poop train" had left the station to reach it's depot - it's final destination - which was the Iraqi sand.
"The WAR CZAR is what the liberal media is calling it." I answered as I marveled at the length and breadth of his "poop train."
"Damn lib...er..al me..d...ia!" Pooner strained out as another one of his "poop trains" was slowly easing out of the station of his war weary, bullet riddled arse. But, sadly, this "poop train" would derail upon the war weary, bullet riddled, knife marked, right leg of Pooner.
"Affirmative!" I remarked to Pooner's assessment of the liberal media and their panty waisted democrat buddies.
"Damn it! Just like this poop that now resides upon my war weary, bullet riddled, knife marked, right leg, the liberal media would say that was a sign that my pooping was unsuccessful, but what about the poop that wasn't derailed? The glass is always "half-empty" with these commie, long haired media guys and gals!" Pooner angrily said as he stood up from whence he squatted.
"Add the retired generals to that list, my friend. General Sheehan and three other "blow-dried" generals have turned down President Bush to serve in this new post!" I answered, rather sternly, as I marveled at Pooner as he now stood up and grasped his war weary, knife scared, tiny, manly manhood.
"Why don't we just call him, General Cindy Sheehan!" Pooner voiced out in a ratherly harse tone, as he began to empty his bladder of yesterday's wine upon the still warm "poop train" that lay upon the Iraqi sand.
"Affirmative!" I stated as I watched the powerful stream of piss that pounded the still warm "poop train".
"The trouble is this, my friend. The liberals, like Nancy " I-like- it-on-top" Peloski, want us to fight this war like they want us to fornicate!" Pooner pronounced as he shook the last drops from his purple-headed warrior.
"Yeah, with some sort of protection!" I barked out.
"War is like sex! They are both best done on the fly and raw-as-hell!" Pooner commanded in his best Pooner voice.
"Semper-fi to that remark!" I proudly said as I watched Pooner grab some weeds and wipe his war weary, bullet riddled, knife marked, and now, poop smeared arse.
