[Clown–exit, stage left]

Well, I’m a little slow outa the gate this morning… Committees of Correspondence and Stop the ACLU were first in my inbox this a.m. with the news that Abu Musab al-Zarqawi is R.I.H.—roasting in hell (although only CofC actually implied those appropriate words).

Seems like a time for a reprise—and an update—of Sympathy for the Devil, written from the heart as a “get well” card in doggerel for the clown after he’d been rumored to have been wounded:

To: Abu Musab al-Zarqawi
(I’ve addressed this to you in Malawi,
Cos I hear you’re running
From folks who’re gunning
For you, for a lark on safari.)

Your wounds may be sorely pressing,
And even, perhaps, quite distressing,
But I take hope in this,
You insufferable piss-
They’ve poisoned your surgical dressing.

So, as your wounds fill with puss,
We’ll charter a big Grehound bus
To haul in the tourists
(We need no jurists)
To jeer as you whine, moan and fuss.

Your passing will leave us distressed,
For really, in case you’ve not guessed,
We all think it fitter
You suffer long, bitter
Agonies; yes, that is best.

Nah, on second thought, no real update. I’ll not rejoice that he’s suffering the agonies of hell, now, but I am glad he’s removed from a leadership position in al-Qaeda. Permanently.

Would someone like to pen new words to “Pore Judd is Daid” (Although somehow I think a hip-hop version of “Ding Dong, Zarqawi’s Dead” might be a lil better)? All I wanna know is where’s the funeral. I wanna send a baked ham for the wake.

Begging for new lyrics and Zarqawi funeral food recipes at TMH’s Bacon Bits (bacon bits! Let’s send a case of those!), Basil’s, Conservative Cat and Blue Star Chronicles.