You are a spineless jellyfish with the integrity of a salami sandwich. Ten years ago, in the House, you said we shouldn’t help with Desert Storm because, “there might be a war.” You stupid fuck. Thank God you were the opposition and nobody gave a flying fuck what you said.
But now, asshole, you’re the Prime Minister. You promised America a thousand troops to help in their fight against terrorism. A thousand. Fucking Bolivia can do better than that, but okay, it’s something.
Now you’ve changed your mind, you yellow dog, because “we don’t want to have a big fight there.” You cretin. What the fuck do you think is going on in Afghanistan? A shuffleboard tournament? What does that tell our boys in the military? It’s a fucking insult. How would I feel if the Duty Sargeant told me to go on patrol, but to come back to base at the first sign of trouble? I’d be insulted, you encephalitic idiot.
If you won’t listen to American intelligence, at least listen to ours. They both told you that there are terrorist operating here, and it’s possible that the monsters who took out the WTC used Canada as a launch pad. It’s our fight too, fuckhead.
During the last election, one of your flunkies came to my door scrounging for votes, and asking if he could put his sign on my lawn. I laughed in his face and told him to take a hike. Next time, I won’t be so polite.
I could go for another two pages, but the better half just brung me a coffee and a pair of donuts (hey, I’m a cop) and told me to calm down.
I’m going to take that advice, but first I want to apologize to my American friends.
I’m sorry. Our Prime Minister represents Canada, but he doesn’t represent any Canadians that I know.