Withered garden gnome Henry Kissinger got himself a nice little write-up in Politico the other day. The thrust of the knob-swabbing was that even at his nursing home-appropriate age of 91, visits to his consulting office to kiss the old butcher’s ring remain
Henry Kissinger How I'm missing yer You're the Doctor of my dreams With your crinkly hair and your glassy stare And your machiavellian schemes I know they say that you are very vain And short and fat and pushy but at least you're not insane Henry Kissinger How I'm missing yer And wishing you were here
Henry Kissinger How I'm missing yer You're so chubby and so neat With your funny clothes and your squishy nose You're like a German parakeet All right so people say that you don't care But you've got nicer legs than Hitler And bigger tits than Cher Henry Kissinger How I'm missing yer And wishing you were here
Henry Kissinger How I'm missing yer You're the Doctor of my dreams With your crinkly hair and your glassy stare And your machiavellian schemes I know they say that you are very vain And short and fat and pushy but at least you're not insane Henry Kissinger How I'm missing yer And wishing you were here
Henry Kissinger How I'm missing yer You're so chubby and so neat With your funny clothes and your squishy nose You're like a German parakeet All right so people say that you don't care But you've got nicer legs than Hitler And bigger tits than Cher Henry Kissinger How I'm missing yer And wishing you were here
D'oh! You beat me to it!
I hate this man so much my modest ability to make funneh is neutralized by his evil.
Remember when Shrub proposed him as head of the 9/11 Commission and was laughed out of the room? There was a reason.
Until last week, I assumed his body was dead. His soul, or whatever passed for it, departed this Earth long ago.
Does Henry the K shop at the same Orphaned-Third-World-Street-Urchins-R-Us that Darth Cheney uses?
or wear white after Labor Day!