In other news, let me be the 9236782910th person to note that an Iraqi journalist threw his shoes at President Bush. I was knocked out/throwing up most of the weekend so I only caught a quick sound byte here and there, but I was particularly impressed by Bush's assertion that he doesn't know "what the guy's beef was," but he assumes he [the journalist] "just wanted to get on television." Wow, I think you nailed it there, Mr. President! What possible reason could any Iraqi citizen have for having a "beef" with you? None that I can see!
Seriously, how can this man be this dumb? How is this possible?! I knew he'd spent the last few years in a nice protective bubble in which he isn't allowed to watch any television except FOX News and his wife reads the newspapers in the morning and "digests" them for him, but -- seriously? Because he just announced to the world that he can't understand why an Iraqi journalist would be angry with him, and that's just... truly, it's humiliating. Unbelievable.
Anyway. I hate my tooth, or the absence of my tooth. I hate Bush. I hate Vicodin, and I hate moths. That last thing isn't all that relevant to anything in this post, but seriously. I hate moths! Hate 'em. Euh.