Since Osama is still hiding in Tora Bora with his dialysis machine, I have a couple of alternative asses within which Tobey Keith may place his boot.

First, I would like to see it placed in the crevasse of every redneck that stopped yesterday on the highway to watch a truck burn. I could understand if you were afraid to drive past a truck in flames, but in my mind you’d be better off driving past the thing quickly than stopping 20 feet from it and waiting for the fire department to come put the fire out just hoping in the meantime the gas tank is not full. After a few panicky minutes, I found away around you morons. I sincerely hope you didn’t die in the explosion because I want Tobey to break you off some.


The second ass which needs a booting is that of my feline roommate. Unprovoked and given an atmosphere of undying love, this little litter tosser decided to scratch me today for no good reason. He also went deep. It is a shame we don’t speak the same language because I love to understand why he felt the need to make me bleed. Actually I’d also like to explain to him there are no less than 5 Chinese restaurants within walking distance.

Lastly, the entire US Postal Service needs a little boot action. OK, maybe not everybody, but at least the idiot who came up with their credit card policy. I went in today to buy stamps so I could send out my bills like a good consumer. The counter guy explained to me I needed to sign my card in front of him. Now wouldn’t that defeat the whole purpose of writing “see ID” on my card? I happily showed the guy my driver’s license. He insisted I sign the card. More importantly, what purpose does that serve? If I stole the card how would he distinguish my signature from that of the true card owner’s?

So there you have it Mr. Keith. God's speed on the swift justice you will inflict.