Countdown

20 January, 2006

Radio talk show host and columnist Bob Lonsberry wrote this, I liked it alot, so I figured I would pass it on. He can be heard weekdays on 1180 WHAM in Rochester, or streeming from the station's web site (wham1180.com). His daily column can be read at http://lonsberry.com. This was today's, amen Bob!

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Dear Osama,

I saw your videotape.

And I was struck by how much you look like one of the shepherds in the Christmas play.

But then I remembered you don’t celebrate Christmas. Which probably explains why you’re such a jerk.

I also wondered, listening to the audio, if you’d had your ‘nads shot off. I mean, there’s a certain high pitch to your voice which you typically only hear coming out of the Vienna boys choir. And I figured what with all that running and hiding you do, maybe you’d run afoul of some shrapnel or something.

Anyway, to the specifics of your tape.

You said that you wanted a truce.

Which is exactly what we want. We really, really want peace. And we’re glad you are willing to discuss terms.

Here are ours: You and everybody like you has to die, preferably in a ghastly fashion. Then we’ll lay down our arms.

Until then, please rest assured that nearly 300 million Americans fall asleep every night imagining a set of crosshairs lining up on your forehead.

Seriously, of all the jackals who deserve a sniper round through the brain pan, you’re at the top of the list. Every day Americans pray that your health is good so we’re not denied the pleasure of killing your sorry camel-riding backside. Right now, if you keeled over from a heart attack, we’d consider it that we got ripped off.

Speaking of untimely death, sorry to hear about your pals the other day in Pakistan. Seems like three of your big buddies were getting together to screw a sheep or something and all of a sudden some guy back at Langley pushed a button and the camels got a fireworks show.

Apparently your big bomb expert and your Pakistan boss and some other boss from someplace people who use inside toilets have never heard of turned into a big pink cloud in the blink of an eye.

Ka-freaking-boom.

Here’s the bad news for you: We’re not out of missiles yet. And flying those Predators around is a lot of fun. And we’ve got a whole generation of videogame experts coming up who’d love to Xbox your brains out.

Hey, I had a question: How’s the cave?

Does it get a little old being on the run constantly, hiding like a frightened dog, cowering off in some hole in the ground? Sure, everybody loves camping, but I’m not sure shivering in the mountains in the winter can be that much fun.

Also, some friends of mine wanted me to pass you a message. Essentially, everybody in the United States Army sends their best. Ditto for their friends in the Marine Corps, Air Force and Navy. And they really like this game of reverse hide-and-seek you’ve got going. You hide and they look for you. And eventually they’ll find you.

At which point there will be a lot of noise and some bright lights and then you’ll meet an angel who will give you the bad news about the 72 virgins.

Before I go, there was one other thing I wanted to bring up. In your tape, you said that you were planning more attacks in American.

In fact, you said that you could have attacked already if you’d wanted to and that our homeland security efforts were meaningless to you but that you were working on something and as soon as you got it lined up you were going to pull the trigger.

Well, you’re welcome to try.

But you’ve got to understand, all you do is make us laugh. Honestly, Osama, you are full of so much crap. You couldn’t pull off a convenience store robbery right now.

The reason you’ve done nothing over the past four and a half years is because you’ve not been able to. We’ve broken up cells, we’ve broken up your money supply, we’ve killed your allies in the field. Heck, George W. Bush even listens in on your friends’ phone calls.

In short, we’ve made you our, uh, female dog.

And we’re about to put you to sleep.

So, go ahead, send your tapes and make your boasts. They’re good for a chuckle.

But you’re history, slick. You’re a dead man walking. Your fate is sealed. The what is known, it’s the when that’s still up in the air.

Hopefully, it won’t be too quick. Hopefully, it’ll take long enough for you to suffer and fret an awful lot.

But if it’s quick, that’s fine too. Just as long as you’re dead. Because that’s what you really are. You’re dead. Your cause, your organization, yourself. Just so much bloated, stinking death.

We’re just competing to see who has the honor to do it.

And, on that videotape. All of us back here in America were thinking you could take it and shove it up your backside.

- by Bob Lonsberry © 2006

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