Posted on 08/05/2006 1:20:01 PM PDT by jmc1969
Cindy Sheehan's obssession is all about Cindy Sheehan and not her son and not Iraq. The woman is a certifiable nut. She loves the publicity, she loves the powerful nuts and Hollywood fawning over her. She is not about to give this up. This woman is sick and the people like the Chicago Tribune encouraging her is pathetic.
But be assured I shall never resort to the cheap joke at the expense of canine feelings again. Honest.
First, search for Mashed Potato Mountain and then look for the tracks.
"Can someone explain to me how 15 minutes has stretched into a year?"
If there isn't a camera or a microphone at her staged spectaculars no none knows her. > Bush hating MSM.
Might have been that. Or she might have just gotten a news report of her "freedom fighters" in Iraq murdering another several dozen innocents in a mosque bombing.
Then the shouts of "U.S. out of Iraq!" begin, and her face brightens and swells with pride, like a mother who has given birth to a political movement.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
A la Sigourney Weaver in the Alien .
LOL! :)
That's only if the islamofascists terrorist she was performing fellatio on didn't thank her by cutting her head off!
*SIGH* I've also given up my quest to move to 'Big Rock Candy Mountain,' because that's obviously where Mother Sheehan hails from. ;)
Big Rock Candy Mountain
by Harry McLintock
One evening as the sun went down
And the jungle fires were burning,
Down the track came a hobo hiking,
And he said, "Boys, I'm not turning
I'm headed for a land that's far away
Besides the crystal fountains
So come with me, we'll go and see
The Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
There's a land that's fair and bright,
Where the handouts grow on bushes
And you sleep out every night.
Where the boxcars all are empty
And the sun shines every day
And the birds and the bees
And the cigarette trees
The lemonade springs
Where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
All the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs
The farmers' trees are full of fruit
And the barns are full of hay
Oh I'm bound to go
Where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall
The winds don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
You never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol
Come trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats
And the railway bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew
And of whiskey too
You can paddle all around it
In a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
The jails are made of tin.
And you can walk right out again,
As soon as you are in.
There ain't no short-handled shovels,
No axes, saws nor picks,
I'm bound to stay
Where you sleep all day,
Where they hung the jerk
That invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains!
needs a mega barf alert
You thought right. Her son's death was just her publicity hook. She never gave a damn about him while he was alive, so now she uses his corpse as a political prop. Nice lady.
One can only hope.
(Go Israel, Go! Slap 'Em Down Hezbullies.)
whatever the reason is, I can guarantee you when people including the media will get tired of her, She will start buying ads on Major Prints to advertise her message or whatever creative idea she comes up with.
...*Cough*Code Pink Daily? Bugle? Post? Inquirer? I dunno. But whatever the Print she will start, Start using it as toilet paper.
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