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OT: Twas the Night of the Capture

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This is brilliant. I'm sending this on to my many friends, both red and blue.

 

~~~Shelley~~~

 

'Twas The Night of the Capture

(A poetic Christmas tribute to the 4th I.D.)

Free Republic.com

12/15/2003

'Twas 13th December, when deep in Iraq, the 4th I.D. had a big

enemy to track. Saddam's stockings were smelly from months on the

lam, In hopes that Dean or Kerry would soon take command.

Our soldiers were nestled in their desert humvees, they'd been told

they were hunting Iraqi V.I.Ps; And Saddam with head lice infesting

his cap, Had just settled down for an Iraqi-type nap, When out on

the farm there arose such a clatter, He sprang from his shack to

see what was the matter. Away to his hideout he flew in a snit,

Tore open his pants leaping into the pit.

The searchlight on the dictator now caught in our snare, Gave the

lustre of mid-day to his nasty wild hair. When, what to our

soldiers' wide eyes should appear, But a bedraggled old dictator

cowering in fear!

Beneath the dirty old beard and the lice in his mane, They were

amazed to discover that it was Saddam Hussein. More rapid than

eagles they called up old Rummy, And he whistled, and shouted, and

said, " This is yummy! "

" Now, Condi! now, Sanchez! now, Cheney and Bush!

On, TV! on Radio! and Free Republic! Let's Rush!

To the top of the news! Get this video on!

Call FNC first! Then Dan Rather and Tom!

As a gloved doctor examined the smelly old goat, he shoved a big

wooden stick down Saddam's nasty throat, Around the world in a

flash the footage it flew, As the French and Russian s gulped,

wondering what we now knew.

And then, in a twinkling, we heard from our leader as he confirmed

the capture of the despotic bottom feeder. As he concluded his

announcement, they replayed the scene, (We heard nothing from Clark

and nothing from Dean).

Saddam was covered in filth, from his head to his foot, And his

clothes were all greasy, with ashes and soot; A bundle of money he

had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler who'd sold out

to Chirac.

His eyes -- how they sagged!

His dimples now pits!

His forehead was covered with curious zits!

His head was examined for vermin and lice, shaved his face of the

beard that was his disguise; A large piece of wood was probed in

his mouth, (And we don't even know if the gloved hand went South);

He still had a fat face but had lost his round belly, His clothes

were a shambles and his feet downright smelly.

He was skinny and drawn, the lying old coward, And I laughed when I

thought of the speech made by Howard; But the spin of the media and

a liberal talking head Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

Dean spoke not a word; Kerry went straight to work, And tried to

get airtime (sounds just like the jerk), Bush kept it short, not

given to prose, And giving a nod, up the polls he rose; He sprang

back to work, to his team gave a whistle, And to D.C. they flew

like the down of a thistle.

 

But I heard him exclaim, as he went on his way,

" Happy Christmas to all -- God Bless the USA! "

 

 

 

 

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Heh, heh, heh! This one is DEFINITELY going to my son in Iraq! Thanks!

 

Blessings,

Doreen

 

-

Butch Owen

Friday, December 19, 2003 3:20 PM

 

OT: Twas the Night of the Capture

 

'Twas The Night of the Capture

(A poetic Christmas tribute to the 4th I.D.)

Free Republic.com

12/15/2003

 

'Twas 13th December, when deep in Iraq, the 4th I.D. had a big enemy to

track. Saddam's stockings were smelly from months on the lam, In hopes

that Dean or Kerry would soon take command.

 

Our soldiers were nestled in their desert humvees, they'd been told they

were hunting Iraqi V.I.Ps; And Saddam with head lice infesting his cap,

Had just settled down for an Iraqi-type nap, When out on the farm there

arose such a clatter, He sprang from his shack to see what was the

matter. Away to his hideout he flew in a snit, Tore open his pants

leaping into the pit.

 

The searchlight on the dictator now caught in our snare, Gave the lustre

of mid-day to his nasty wild hair. When, what to our soldiers' wide

eyes should appear, But a bedraggled old dictator cowering in fear!

 

Beneath the dirty old beard and the lice in his mane, They were amazed

to discover that it was Saddam Hussein. More rapid than eagles they

called up old Rummy, And he whistled, and shouted, and said, " This is

yummy! "

 

" Now, Condi! now, Sanchez! now, Cheney and Bush!

On, TV! on Radio! and Free Republic! Let's Rush!

To the top of the news! Get this video on!

Call FNC first! Then Dan Rather and Tom!

 

As a gloved doctor examined the smelly old goat, he shoved a big wooden

stick down Saddam's nasty throat, Around the world in a flash the

footage it flew, As the French and Russian s gulped, wondering what we

now knew.

 

And then, in a twinkling, we heard from our leader as he confirmed the

capture of the despotic bottom feeder. As he concluded his

announcement, they replayed the scene, (We heard nothing from Clark and

nothing from Dean).

 

Saddam was covered in filth, from his head to his foot, And his clothes

were all greasy, with ashes and soot; A bundle of money he had flung on

his back, And he looked like a peddler who'd sold out to Chirac.

 

His eyes -- how they sagged!

His dimples now pits!

His forehead was covered with curious zits!

His head was examined for vermin and lice, shaved his face of the beard

that was his disguise; A large piece of wood was probed in his mouth,

(And we don't even know if the gloved hand went South); He still had a

fat face but had lost his round belly, His clothes were a shambles and

his feet downright smelly.

 

He was skinny and drawn, the lying old coward, And I laughed when I

thought of the speech made by Howard; But the spin of the media and a

liberal talking head Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; Dean

spoke not a word; Kerry went straight to work, And tried to get airtime

(sounds just like the jerk), Bush kept it short, not given to prose, And

giving a nod, up the polls he rose; He sprang back to work, to his team

gave a whistle, And to D.C. they flew like the down of a thistle.

 

But I heard him exclaim, as he went on his way,

 

" Happy Christmas to all -- God Bless the USA! "

 

Step By Step Instructions On Making Rose Petal Preserves:

http://www.av-at.com/stuff/rosejam.html

 

To adjust your group settings (i.e. go no mail) see the following link:

/join

 

 

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Hey Nancy,

 

> Hi Butch,

> Where do you find all this stuff.

 

Got this little ditty from three folks today .. to include one kind

person on this list. ;-p

 

> Or are you a writter keeping it a secret. LOL

 

I am a fair to middlin' writer and that's no secret. ;-) But this one

was done by somebody who was a better than middlin' writer.

 

> Nancy

 

Y'all keep smiling. :-) Butch

 

> 'Twas The Night of the Capture

> (A poetic Christmas tribute to the 4th I.D.)

> Free Republic.com

> 12/15/2003

> 'Twas 13th December, when deep in Iraq, the 4th I.D. had a big

> enemy to track. Saddam's stockings were smelly from months on the

> lam, In hopes that Dean or Kerry would soon take command.

> Our soldiers were nestled in their desert humvees, they'd been told

> they were hunting Iraqi V.I.Ps; And Saddam with head lice infesting

> his cap, Had just settled down for an Iraqi-type nap, When out on

> the farm there arose such a clatter, He sprang from his shack to

> see what was the matter. Away to his hideout he flew in a snit,

> Tore open his pants leaping into the pit.

> But I heard him exclaim, as he went on his way,

 

> " Happy Christmas to all -- God Bless the USA! "

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Good Morning,

 

Hey Nancy,

 

> Hi Butch,

> Where do you find all this stuff.

 

Got this little ditty from three folks today .. to include one kind

person on this list. ;-p

>>>You sure get some good ones.

 

> Or are you a writter keeping it a secret. LOL

 

I am a fair to middlin' writer and that's no secret. ;-) But this

one was done by somebody who was a better than middlin' writer.

>>>It was good writting. LOL

 

> Nancy

 

Y'all keep smiling. :-) Butch

 

Nancy

 

 

 

 

 

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