“Bush and Cheney, those coward filthy dirty bastards, they ordered the demolition of Building #7. Didn’t they Rummie?” Our great President Barack O. asked the clever old G-man, seventy-four-year old Rumsfeld. Rummie ever so slowly took a sip of his Dutch beer, his Heineken. The Netherlands beer felt real good to him, remarkable. He made the precious seconds last forever. He thought to himself, that at his final stage of life, the green bottled Dutch beer was so much better than pussy.
Thomas Wolfe said that you can never go home again, but what what if you have to?