Halliburton must've finally finished delivering some cost-plus loads of brush to the Crawford ranch, necessitating a State Vacation from the dauphin. Yeah, he's ready to go all nukulur on the brambles and tangles so carefully placed by Cheney's minions to look real...and no doubt Little Lord Shrubelroy, chainsaw in hand, dreams of medals and flightsuits and carrier landings as he takes on bin Laden and the Iraqi insurgents...I mean the briar patch. And, after all, thorns and stickers can hurt (maybe they'll pin a Purple Heart on him--or at least a Purple Heart bandaid).
There might also be some speechifying and foot stomping when it comes to proper names--"Damnit, Dick, I ain't sayin' GSAVE. I wanna call it WAR!" And so war it is, because when you're a "war president" it means there's an extra snap to the salute you get when boarding Marine 1.
Why, being preznit is such hard work that sometimes you forget the stuff they mention in the morning after a hard day of clearing brush, followed by a bike ride or half round on the front nine...and heaven knows that the enemy is perpetually on vacation, so taking five weeks or so off doesn't mean that you're AWOL or anything. Besides, it's good for troop morale when at least one of the guys gets leave--even if others have to pick up the slack. But don't worry--Shrubelroy will thank you for your service--not personally, of course, because he's working so hard, and obviously he won't be able to attend the funeral, but he'll think about you--maybe right after he hits his first good drive of the day.
Because remember--he works hard. It's hard work. And sometimes, a Shrub needs a little R&R.
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