Shortly after I returned from Vietnam, I purchased a then 30 year old bottle of Scotch. I had planned to pour it on Robert McNamara's grave after straining it through my kidneys. Before I placed the bottle into my safe deposit box, I heard John F'ing Kerry calling me and about 2.5 million other Americans murderers and members of the Army of Ghengis Kahn. I then resolved I would pour that whiskey on his grave after straining it through my kidneys.
I now have a problem. I may not out live the sunuvabitch (Yeah, I know, that's a blast to his mother, but she is largely responsible for how the sunuvabitch is!). I now have a 63 year old bottle of whiskey for which I may need to borrow some kidneys.
I first ask for your prayers (that I outlive the sunuvabitch, not that I hand the bottle over to you). Then I ask for volunteers who expect to be around in 25 years with kidneys in decent enough shape to strain the whiskey.
Allow me to be the first to publically volunteer my kidneys to your worthy and just cause.
I would ask your permission to make a short detour on my trip to fulfill your dream, to perform the same service at the interment site of Pierre Eliot Trudeau, as the object of my disdain did more damage to the relationship between our nations, and to my nation than MacNamara, J F'nK and xlintoon combined did to your country.
Then again, Kerry could drop off this mortal plane tomorrow, and who'd notice?