Trouble at mill
Watching Dubya get all excited and nearly wet himself at the prospect of being able to press the big red shiny button next to his desk, my own personal vulnerability has come into rather stark focus.
I would like to put it on record that I too have no weapons of mass destruction in my possession, and at the same time the paperwork alluding to this fact is also, well, slightly incomplete. I tell you, if those inspectors come round to my house, I’m going to be in big trouble. For one thing, their light blue hats will clash horribly with our dining room, as presumably that’s where they’ll sit to do their inspection, thinking about it, how long will it take, should I make up the bed in the spare room?
I’m going to make up a dossier of all the things I haven’t got, and why I haven’t got them…
1. Nuclear weaponry: Shed is full
2. Chemical weaponry and/or deposits of Anthrax: Could give cats an upset tummy if consumed
3. Playstation 2: Can’t trust myself not to use the components to launch an attack on the civilised world and Emma won’t let me
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