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Shaving Bush’s Bulge with Occam’s Razor

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A Kevlar vest, a battery pack in case of power failure, even a handle for Secret Service agents to grab in case he is attacked (according to this theory, the Secret Service would just grab Kerry’s hair).

Stop it! Stop it now!

Bush himself explained the device at an appearance before a group of Old Order Amish several weeks ago, when he revealed that God speaks through him.

Now how do you suppose God is going to do that without sound equipment?

We are not living in ancient times, people!

God does not go around speaking to people on mountain tops and flaming shrubbery or outsourcing it to angels.

Nevertheless, I wanted the facts, so I went to the Source, who graciously agreed to answer a few questions via e-mail.

Date: Mon, 11 Oct 2004
From: “God”
Subject: Bush’s Bulge
To: “DuctapeFatwa”

>>Bush says You speak through him. Do You?

Well, I speak TO him, or at least I try to. I think something happened to his ears. Maybe pretzel crumbs. Could you look in there and – oh never mind.

>>What’s up with that bulge? People are going nuts here. Theories all over the place.

Good! This is all about Earth, right? That planet needs more theories. Anyway, what? bulge? what bulge? Oh, wait, THAT bulge, sorry, phone. brb.

OK, back. Well, here’s the deal. I have tried and tried with this guy, email, forget it, doesn’t read em, tried his cell but it had a recording, I’m not going to burn greenspace for this, and there is no way I am sending any angels down there. I tried that a few years ago, and only a handful of people paid any attention to the actual MESSAGE, duh, and this Bush dude, well, he’s my creation and I love him, etc etc, but he in no way rates the big guns. So I had Marconi up in here, you know him? Smart guy, I did a good job on that brain. He suggested radio waves. So I had him build a radio, and toss it down, I knew somebody would put it in Bush’s jacket, well, OK, I know everything, but I especially knew that. Didn’t I create Karen Hughes, too, or what?

So the other night, I just happened to turn on CNN, yeah, it sucks, but I kind of like trying to guess how much of the screen they are planning to fill up with icons and crawlies, ok, anyway, he was on this stage, and of course the first thing I thought was, oh, no, he’s going to sing that song from Cats, and according to the Maya calendar, even time isn’t supposed to end till 2013. Or 2012. Whatever. I knew this had to be the moment, so I sort of blipped the radio in. Don’t ask me to explain how I blip stuff places. It’s a God thing, you wouldn’t understand.

So I start off trying to talk to him in a normal voice, just telling him to calm down, walk away from the microphone, walk out of the building, and get in the van. Yeah, I had blipped a van. And a driver. Sweet, gentle guy, who was gonna take him to this really nice place. I’m serious, really really nice. Lots of grass, trees, but a structured, safe environment, they can’t hurt themselves there, they can’t hurt anybody else – did I tell you his father never listened to me either? Is this pretzel crumbs in the ear thing hereditary? Hang on, let me email Greg. He’ll know.

Maybe I used the wrong frequency. I usually try to program a back door in somewhere, in case I really absolutely positively have to get in, but I think his may have malfunctioned.

Or it could be that my signal got eaten up by that guy talking to him through the earpiece.

One Love,


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