Texas Ice House I

Bubba and I had a date to watch all four nights of the GOP convention down at Jesus’ Ice House. We spent most of our time the first night shouting FOUR MORE YEARS and TWO MORE MONTHS respectively. A little later we each found ourselves seething over two fellows who were not even politicians. Bubba went purple seeing a shot of Michael Moore laughing in his seat after being singled out from the podium and then shown sitting in the audience as he had hoped. Bubba says someone has to take him out, for chicken fried steak I assume. But it was a step up for Bubba, for it was the first time I’ve seen him go purple over anyone white. I admit to going livid listening to Ron Silver, for like Dennis Miller, it depresses me greatly to see a liberal going over to the dark side only because they want to see higher body counts.
It was the night for Rudy Giuliani and John McCain to endlessly intone 911 and explain why it was necessary to invade and occupy Iraq no matter what the rest of the world thought. And that we have a lot more killing to do, without wavering.
Leadership was not only the theme of the night, but that of the entire convention and campaign. Leadership meaning the propensity to awesomely bomb a country into destruction with one hand, while giving the rest of the world the finger with the other, and not wavering. When I mentioned that to Bubba, he stood up on the bottom rail of his bar stool, raised his arms in the air and shouted "Halleluiah! He finally gets it!"
I explained to Bubba that from that same criteria Genghis Khan, Napoleon Bonaparte, Adolph Hitler, Joseph Stalin, FDR and Mao Tse Sung were the greatest leaders of all time, and asked if he would have voted for all of them too? Bubba often loses his sense of humor, though he contends it only happens when talking to me.

Texas Ice House II