First, my apologies to Bryan Hayward who ask to "not feed the government paid trolls." I agree, but BTW, sometimes we violate our best advice.

Yesterday after I heard of Kurt's Vonnegut's death, the bombs killing humans in the green zone, the blowing up of the bridge across the Tigris River to Baghdad's in the McCain's Seneca tourist section, and how sad the bush loyalist must feel about the loss of e-mails...

...It made me so gloomy I bought a NYT. SomeNYGuy wrote a 'letter' at 11:52 and I was extra experiencing The Great Depression. So, "O" or rather, "Woe," I set out for the Golden Gate Bridge. Spanning the Potomac River you ponder the "catwalk," the "cakewalk," and look down to see a Outhouse For Malfeasance."

...My life was spared. My plan was to throw a Silver Dollar into the flowing river. Then, jump. but a gust of wind made me realize, if I went airborne, the span of time and distance to 'hit' the water on a windy cool breezy day, such as yesterday...(?) I could screw up.

..."Go to the Malfeasance House down along the river," the wind whispered. okay. Once back on solid ground, the rusty hinges on the out-house creaked. The partial whitewashed tongue and groove Z-backed batten door, was banging open and shut in the wind. Sky was grey, clouds were silver, then black, and even it was at times, the sunniest beautiful day I'd ever laid my eye-pupils-up to. It was a wild wind. Ash trees are in bloom, dead black walnut trees need to be chainsawed some day (?) soon. Yes.

...Guess who was there? At "The Outhouse For Malfeasance?" The O.F.M. has a double sedater, wood-splinter pincher seat. The Southern Buddhist and shooter 242 were talking about Clinton, as usual. A waiting line of Kristol's, Glenn Reynolds and masses of numerable weak-bladder, blabbering-spurts, neocons were standing with crossed legs, farting in the wind, and pleading out on bended knees. "Hurry-Gotta-Go." They said that over and over, and even the feather creatures took flight as if in error of depressions. The story needs to End...

...Guess how? I'll give a few details, okay. Well, Shooter has a thyroid condition, so please, we must be understanable. When the Southern Buddhist got off the Americana Standard, non-plumbing Bushco's loyalist party throne, my suicide-pack dear friend ran to the front of the co-head, "Malfeasance Outhouse" waiting line. Following detailed instructions, ____tossed the Silver Dollar down into the wooden barrel crapper-catcher...

..."Why did you do that?" Shooer242 moaned and gr-owned. Please know that Mr. shooter only craps twice per month if he needs to oat not want to. "It's a Good Luck-Good Duck-Good Luck coin wish!"...my friend said.

..."What!" Exclaimed the crapper-shooter242 sitter on a splinter. Then guess what?

Shooter goes on and on talking the neoconservative 'flap-door' meme about poor Monica, no free lunch, and he thought the Outdoor Malfeasance House was nice and cozy. Why isn't the use of the public-pot free? He pondered. Down where the load stops, where the sawed-off, old used wine barrel crap-stopper collect the you know what? C***! It was near full...

...Guess what happened next? The truth can be verified by the huge waiting line of neocons who witnessed as the whitewash door slammed and banged in the thunder roar from Hells Gate. Neocons will swear their honest Talk-Point testimony is reliable. So, with eyes closed, toilet-hand raised in the breeze, swearing on a smutty finger-print, soul-savior Gideon bible, shredded, for reading book inside...because... (whoever wrote the bible may have a 6th sense-pack of Thomas Paine's and Twain and Kurt humor, and a bit of mercy, "O" "Woe" please, I hope)...dry brown oak-leaves or gold-straw leaves hind rashes...Truth! Nothing but the whole truth?...

...Where are The Bush administration's e-mail documents? tp?

...The End...

Shooter242 jumped down into the sawed-off wine-crap coalition barrel, and screamed "I'm Lucky" and came up all smelling like a red rose...every-things at hand...Scooter242 found The Lost Silver Dollar!