Move Over, Blackwater

Don’t tell anyone, but we have a private army.

It’s called Whitewater. Its assault troops train in the rapids of the upper Youghiogheny, where Blackwater fears to tread water.

Whitewater accepts no contracts from pantywaist draft dodgers masquerading as top government officials whose only combat experience has consisted of shooting unarmed ducks – who even in those romper-room fantasy wars cover themselves with camouflage and hide.

Whitewater sails into troubled waters protected by nothing more than a rubber raft. Once global warming raises the ocean levels, there will be nobody in the halls of Congress except Whitewater rafters, and then it will be time to get the people’s business done.

If there are still any Bush vetoes or signing statements floating around in the scum, they’ll be over-ridden, but not before they’re drowned.

A single squad of Whitewater warriors will be enough to take over the Supreme Court. I think they’ll have room in their rafts to save only four of the justices, but that should be enough.

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