National Nitwit

Left: President Bush gets ready to do the limbo

President Bush marked five years since ordering the invasion of Iraq with a celebratory party at an undisclosed Washington location, replete with party favors and chocolate cake.

"The successes we are seeing in Iraq are undeniable, yet some in Washington still call for retreat," the President told reporters as he helped himself to some cotton candy. "What they ought to be doing is grabbing a couple of these here cupcakes - they got this crunchy rainbow candy in 'em, and I'll be damned if I couldn't stop before eating six of the fuckers. Hoo-ee!"

Bush indicated that he's not ready to withdraw more troops from Iraq than have been scheduled to leave through about mid-July.

"I will say this: that funny clown really fooled me with the rabbit-shaped balloon he blew up," chuckled Mr. Bush. "I thought he was trying to screw with me, turning it into a machine gun-wielding soldier shooting up an Iraqi baby or some shit. But no: just a bunny. Good thing, too, because I would've bitch-slapped the fucker if Happy the Clown tried to pull a fast one on me."

The President defended his often-criticized Iraq policies.

"The answers are clear to me: removing Saddam Hussein from power was the right decision," he said. "It's too bad, though, because I would have liked to play Lawn Jarts with that dude, and maybe eat a few hot dogs or something. We could've been buds, if I didn't have to hang his ass and all. Still, the punch at this shindig is first-rate, and I might try to nail one of these soccer moms after Laura calls it a night. Hell, by 8 o'clock, this party will be just getting started! Maybe we can play a game of 'pin the tail on the President's cock' or something wacky like that."

Labels: George W. Bush, Iraq war

A National Nitwit Guest Editorial
By Nathan “Buzz” Vople

For Vople, “Freedom Ain’t Free—You Gotta Kill People for It”

I’m a veteran who did two tours in Vietnam, so when it comes to this guerilla warfare over there in Iraq with them sand niggers, I know what the fuck I’m talking about.

And after four years of failures and setbacks, I’ve come up with the only viable solution for military success: we need to napalm these car-bombing towel heads back to the Stone Age.

For those of you who don’t know what napalm is, it’s an incinerating jelly-like substance that clings to whatever it contacts and burns at incredibly high temperatures. So that’s the dictionary definition for ya.

But back in ’69, after the Tet Offensive, when those slanty gooks ran at our boys like a bunch of crazed monkeys, this country finally grew a pair and elected Nixon who used napalm to burn most of Cambodia and Laos to the ground. Gotta fight fire with fire, no pun intended. You ever see a bunch of commie VC fleeing for their lives, totally regretting their allegiance to a failed political ideal? I have. And when their malnourished bodies fall to the ground, covered in flames and writhing in agony, you can bet your ass they aren’t praying to Ho Chi Min. Pal, that there is liberty on the march.

And I know we got a bunch of tofu munching liberal types in this country who think we need a regime change here at home, or need to stop throwing good money after bad, or simply need to bring these boys back and cut our losses, but these colors don’t run, you hear? The only time the stars and stripes have EVER run, at least that I know of, was back in ’88 when I got shit-faced on July 4th and fucked up tie-dying an Old Glory t-shirt. Damn thing ended up looking like a week-old maxi pad smeared with blueberries.

So to wrap things up here, napalm is the solution to this Iraq mess. Maybe if we burn these people’s homes, mosques, libraries, museums, post offices, farms, and schools to the ground, they’ll finally see how truly great democracy is.

Labels: Iraq, Iraq war, veterans

A National Nitwit Guest Editorial by Sgt. Ian Rowling
United States Army

Rowling giving an Arab teen water to rinse her deflowered lady business

As a rigorously trained Army sergeant, I know this conflict in Iraq is growing more and more unpopular every day. With over 3,500 dead soldiers, untold stacks of dead Iraqi civilians, the astronomical waste of tax dollars, and no discernable end in sight, most Americans are probably wondering just what this war, as the old Edwin Starr song goes, “is good for.”

Well, my friend, let me tell you: sweet, sweet Arab pussy.

You’re probably thinking this is a crass summation of the death, destruction, and human suffering manifest in this protracted international conflict, but I need to ask an important question—have you ever felt the warm, moist box of a sheepherder’s daughter slide so perfectly over your cock that it felt as if God himself specially crafted it for your slightly left-leaning purple-veined howitzer? Thought not.

Or have you ever broken some brown vixen’s hymen over a mule’s back while her two snot-nosed younger brothers look on in terror at her bare breasts, which have only recently developed into meaty C-cups? Check and mate.

As civilians, you’re only getting one side of the story, and with all due respect, it’s the California liberal bring-our-boys-home-now version. Which is far from the truth indeed if you fall asleep every night, as I do, to the gentle weeping of a tenth grader who only moments earlier had your Johnson, balls-deep inside her puckering snatch.

So you see, this war is good for something after all.

Labels: Arab women, Iraq, Iraq war

Left: Beetle Bailey hits Iraq (click to enlarge)

(New York) Long-running comic strip Beetle Bailey will begin to feature members of Camp Swampy being deployed to Iraq in the coming months, according to a press release from creator Mort Walker.

The strip will feature the hijinks of Beetle, Lieutenant Sonny Fuzz, and the rest of the Bailey gang as they relocate to a base outside of Baghdad.

"We have this one scene planned where Sergeant 1st Class Orville Snorkel gets a leg blown off by an IED. Just too much!" chuckled Walker. "And you wouldn't believe the craziness when Beetle accidentally discharges his rifle and blows some fucking kid's head off. Hilarious!"

Walker added that he has been cooking up "something pretty special" for Miss Buxley, the hot secretary to Brigadier General Amos T. Halftrack.

"We were first thinking we would have her taken hostage by some insurgent group and then beheaded," laughed Walker. "But we thought it would be funnier for her be shopping in a Baghdad market and get blown to smithereens by a sucide bomber. I drew this one panel with her bloody arm lying on the pavement and what's left of her torso being eaten by wild dogs, while a bunch of maggots are crawling out of her eye sockets. Come to think of it... this isn't very funny at all. What the fuck were we smoking when we dreamed this up, anyways? Good thing our readers don't give a shit."

Labels: Beetle Bailey, Iraq, Iraq war

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Cougar: A stern and threatening voice from the desert

(Amarillo, TX) Lance Corporal James Cougar knew when he received his deployment orders to Iraq just days after Christmas that the physical and emotional distance of war would put an immense strain on his family.

Cougar was especially worried about his 4-year-old son Zeke—who has already started to display behavioral problems—until he was struck by ingenious plan: each week he could upload a stern, judgmental podcast to keep his son “from being a goddamn brat” and therefore continue to share parental responsibilities with his wife Linda.

“At first I didn’t know what to do when I was re-upped, especially since Zeke’s behavior was total shit around the holidays,” Cougar reflected. “And then one day, outa nowhere, I got the idea to upload these like…like, discipline podcasts. Now my boy can still hear me scold him every night before bed.”

Linda Cougar echoed her husband’s sentiments, revealing that it has restored order and balance to their otherwise turbulent daily rituals.

Zeke Cougar: Slowly getting his shit together

“Zeke was a nightmare after Coug left, and it was a struggle, day-in and day-out, to simply get him to and from pre-school, let alone finish his dinner and brush his teeth before story-time,” Ms. Cooper stated. “This week we’re on our third podcast, though, and I can already see a huge improvement. When Zeke hears his father’s voice saying, ‘I’m really pissed at you, act like a big boy,’ it changes his whole demeanor. Thank God for technology.”

Labels: Iraq, Iraq war, Military dads

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Cougar: A stern and threatening voice from the desert

(Amarillo, TX) Lance Corporal James Cougar knew when he received his deployment orders to Iraq just days after Christmas that the physical and emotional distance of war would put an immense strain on his family.

Cougar was especially worried about his 4-year-old son Zeke—who has already started to display behavioral problems—until he was struck by ingenious plan: each week he could upload a stern, judgmental podcast to keep his son “from being a goddamn brat” and therefore continue to share parental responsibilities with his wife Linda.

“At first I didn’t know what to do when I was re-upped, especially since Zeke’s behavior was total shit around the holidays,” Cougar reflected. “And then one day, outa nowhere, I got the idea to upload these like…like, discipline podcasts. Now my boy can still hear me scold him every night before bed.”

Linda Cougar echoed her husband’s sentiments, revealing that it has restored order and balance to their otherwise turbulent daily rituals.

Zeke Cougar: Slowly getting his shit together

“Zeke was a nightmare after Coug left, and it was a struggle, day-in and day-out, to simply get him to and from pre-school, let alone finish his dinner and brush his teeth before story-time,” Ms. Cooper stated. “This week we’re on our third podcast, though, and I can already see a huge improvement. When Zeke hears his father’s voice saying, ‘I’m really pissed at you, act like a big boy,’ it changes his whole demeanor. Thank God for technology.”

Labels: Iraq, Iraq war, Military dads

A Guest Editorial by Bruce Rogers, Vietnam War Purple Heart Recipient

Rogers taking comfort with a bronze statue

When I was a kid, man, I loved the holidays. They were the best time of year around my house, and I used to wake up at 5 a.m. on Christmas morning, tear down those steps, and wait patiently for my brothers and sisters to shuffle down with our parents so we could tear open our presents from Santa.

But my childhood was stolen from me by an evil succubus whore named Vietnam, and now the holidays only remind me of my dead buddies, blasted to smithereens in the hellish rice patties of Southeast Asia.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Bruce, Vietnam was over and done with over thirty years ago, can’t you just let it go and have some eggnog with the wife and grandkids?”

The answer is a resounding no, you commie fuck-head. Ever wake up to the sound of artillery fire on the day your Savior was born, and then celebrate that day by eating cold Spam and locusts? Didn’t think so. I bet your ass went to Yale on daddy’s dollar and now wants us to bring our troops home from this noble campaign we got over there in the sand dunes of Mortaritaville, right when the tide is about to turn on those towel-wearing scat-munchers.

Sometimes we would fry up the holiday Spam, when we could find a cheap-ass stove, or when we were shacking up with some diseased, slanty-eyed hooker in Saigon. Yeah. Some fucking holiday.

But I digress.

The holidays are a horrible time for any veteran. All we want to do is reflect and tell the story of our M-16 jamming right during the Tet Offensive for the 739th time, but even our relatives from out of town are more concerned with their new socks, Japanese electronics, and Britney-fucking-Spears.

So this year, when you’re trying on those new flannel pajamas, remember ol’ Bruce here. I shot countless women and children from long range so you could enjoy this goddamn holiday, and the least you could do is honor my dead buddies by lighting a candle. Or buying me a beer. After all, we deserve as much.

Labels: Christmas, holidays, Iraq war, Vietnam