I just wanted to drop a note and get you caught up on how real folks are feeling.
For six years now you've been telling us to "trust" you.
Yet, since being hoisted up onto the Republican banner as its poster boy of "Privileged Illusive Governance" (PIG) in 2000, there's been nary a moment when you weren't in total deception mode.
After failing at virtually every endeavor in your boozy, sheltered life - starting as a kid by blowing up small critters with fireworks; then moving on to barely-passing grades in college (purchased with wealth accumulated from Grandpa Prescott's World War II Nazi bank deals); sloughing through one business disaster after another, again financed by misbegotten family fortunes; inability to get up enough votes in your "home" district even for Karl Rove to "win" you a seat in Congress; until as governor you completely messed up Texas in just five years - Karl Rove was somehow able to maneuver your sorry posterior into the White House.
Spurious George, who hid out inside of whisky bottles while Senator-to-be McCain suffered for more than five years in the Hanoi Hilton, had the unmitigated gall to drag this good man, and his family, through the most vile of unsubstantiated accusations.
And in the name of Jesus Christ, no less" Glory Hallelujah!
Your continual iteration of being saved by faith in the Lord has never resonated with any note of genuine sincerity.
Then, I've never observed the least modicum of sincerity in you at any time, no matter what the issue.
Yet, somehow, people buy your down-home, good ol' boy horseshit act.
Why is it that so many otherwise nice folks, millions of whom like you had never ventured beyond U.S. borders yet unlike you could not even begin to imagine your level of wealth and privilege, turned to you as a "leader?"
I can understand the white tie elitists getting behind you. Their interests are pure selfish greed -- monetary and power-based -- fulfilled by your regime as though those were the only citizens in the Nation.
But your "brain," Herr Oberst Karl Rove, manipulated a massive fixation on your rebirth in Christianity to sucker the homespun types into thinking you were one of them.
George, you wouldn't know how to be a regular guy if somebody gave you a six-week course. For starters, regular guys aren't cheerleaders in college.
Everything about you is an act. You're not a real Texan; you were born in Connecticut.
How come you're the only Bush brother with a pronounced drawl? Hell, yours is so phony you sound like you've spent your entire existence in a trailer park somewhere around Happy.
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