Cheney cleared of charges, calls for resignation

Stingray: a blog for salty Christians ^ | February 16, 2006 | Michael McCullough

[Shelayne]

No one knows the whereabouts of the alleged bird, allegedly flushed from the field by Cheney's footsteps...

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I suspect that this alleged bird, is--if not dead--flitting around somewhere. Allegedly.

Yoo hoo, Birdie, please reveal yourself to the press and tell your side of the story!

[stocksthatgoup]

"That's true. Your opinion of my opinion is yours alone."

Translation - There is no such thing as truth. All is just opinion!

[Shelayne]

And we are left with the VP, flush with SOME unknowable amount of alcohol, whirling counter-clockwise into the sunset, hurriedly aiming at an alleged, never-identified bird & firing .28-gauge buckshot into the tall grass where his aged friend Harry crouched in search of dead game...

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Is "tall grass" the new grassy knoll? Are you suggesting that Cheney was not, in fact, hunting quail, but perhaps hunting HIS FRIEND? With birdshot?

I saw a similar episode on "Gilligan's Island" many years ago.

Seriously, is this satire? Because it certainly sounds like it.

[CFC__VRWC]

So which theory are you sticking to, the one that says that the Secret Service stood by and did nothing while Cheney and Company got all likkered up and then decided to play with their guns, or the one where Cheney intentionally shot Whittington to tell Scooter Libby, "be quiet or this might happen to you!"?

Obviously you've bought into the Daily Kos line about Cheney having an affair, with your reference to his "female companion-hunter." And obviously the local authorities are all in on the great cover-up as well, according to you. And of course it's just a coincidence that the media's even now sharpening their claws for the sheriff and the DA down there. Right?

[O Neill]

Okay, I see that the covey has flushed...so many targets, so little time. I'll try to re-summarize the known facts of this case--as I see them--tomorrow morning. But I can, at least, begin tonight...

In the beginning, alcohol was not involved.

to be continued....

[lOKKI]

The thing that interests me with my very casual interest in guns, is the use of a '28 gauge shotgun. That seems like a pretty small shell. Is it bigger than a .410? Not by much, I'd guess.

I can understand the use of a small light gun for quail...

My point, I guess, is that this wasn't much of a shotgun. Can't be much power pushing that birdshot.

If you're going to shot ME with one, a would a .410 or a '28 gauge be my choice of weapons?

[O Neill]

Sorry, friend. I can't help you there, I don't even know birdshot from buckshot. Wouldn't shoot you even if I did...

I'm still fact-finding for a concise summary of what happened out there in the Texas Tall Grass...

In the beginning, alcohol was not involved.

It was a sleepy-dusty Friday & the Boys (and Pamela) were relaxin' near the tall grass...

Only slightly more than zero alcohol was involved come Saturday...

Suddenly, the covey flushed, the VP whirled counter-clockwise toward the setting sun & fired the Perazzi at an unidentified flying object...

Next thing you know, an aged lawyer, Commissioner of the Texas Funeral Service Commission, and friend of the VP named Harry, devoid of any alcohol, began losing precious, bodily fluids--unreplenished by any alcohol--as he lay prone in the High Chapparal...

A Secret Service Agent, also alcohol-free, moseyed to a telephone & called the Sheriff. Then the Sheriff talked to a Ranch Hand who assured the Sheriff that he & any Deputies he wanted could come the next mornin'...after sunup...which they did. But no one had any alcohol.

After he got out of the Hospital (in Corpus Christi, for cryin' out loud), Harry apologized to his assailant for causing such a fuss & bother to the VP's family...

The Sheriff closed the case & that about wrapped 'er up. Some neighbors, though, say they're hearin' frogs out near the Tall Grass...chirpin'...

'Bud'...

'Wize'...

'Urrrr'...

[Simo Hayha]

The hay is in the barn. But we get to witness the chosen ones take it back out, cut it to their liking, rake it into a pile big enough to please them, bundle it into bales they are happy with, stack it on the wagon fit for a parade, and bring it to the barn and have a square-dance around it.

And people are surprised that Cheney didn't take a seat in the dunking stool after the last 5 years of fiddlin' by the in-bred media?