A Heads-Up for Agent Mike! - Democratic Underground

NanceGreggs

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Thu Aug-09-07 08:02 PM
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A Heads-Up for Agent Mike!

Edited on Thu Aug-09-07 08:23 PM by NanceGreggs

Howdy, Agent Mike! I just wanted to send some info your way, so when you listen-in on my family’s phone conversations over the next few weeks, you won’t get the wrong idea.

We will not be discussing any terrorist activity; we will, however, be discussing an upcoming wedding.

If your family is anything like mine, Agent Mike, you know that the invasion of Normandy took less planning than figuring out who has to be separated from whom by at least ten tables at the reception, lest all hell break loose.

When you hear the phrase military-type precision, it has nothing to do with a devious plot. It is simply a reference to the seating arrangements at the catering hall. Everyone knows that Aunt Camille will not sit at the same table with Aunt Florrie, and Uncle Arthur and Uncle George have not spoken to each other since an incident in 1953 involving who owes who a quarter as the result of losing a bet.

As should be apparent, my family doesn’t believe in diplomacy as a means of settling their differences any more than the present administration does – and just between you and me, I won’t be surprised if Uncle Arthur and Uncle George wind up attacking Uncle Frank – who, of course, had absolutely nothing to do with their initial dispute.

My Aunt Rose will be throwing around the phrase surprise attack repeatedly; this is a reference to her insistence that my unmarried cousin, Marilyn, be seated (without any prior warning) next to Aunt Rose’s best friend’s son, who is also single. Being the family matchmaker, Aunt Rose is already predicting a blissful marriage between the two, an event that will include sweets and flowers, along with a wedding that will pay for itself when the shower gifts come rolling in.

Being as I come from a family of Catholics, you will undoubtedly overhear the words torture and excruciating pain on many occasions. Again, this is not a reference to our country’s inhumane treatment of Gitmo detainees, or the ongoing activities at Black Sites. These phrases merely pertain to having to sit through a traditional Nuptual Mass – invariably held in churches that provide as much air-conditioned comfort as is currently available in downtown Baghdad.

And that reminds me: References to Baghdad Bob and/or Tony Snow – the two being pretty much interchangeable – is a signal that the information about to be imparted originated with my Uncle Jackie, who hasn’t told the truth about anything since he secretly eloped with Marilyn Monroe and invented RADAR.

All references to lazy-assed drunk, AWOL draft-dodger, dumbest man on the planet, lyin’ f*ckhead, cowardly pissant and supreme idiot will undoubtedly pertain to Cousin Dotsie’s husband, Bernard, and not to George W. Bush – although it’s easy to see how references to one could be mistaken for the other.

The phrase dealing with the infidel has nothing to do with the current anti-Muslim sentiment being promulgated by the mainstream media. It is simply part of the ongoing conversation as to where to seat my niece’s fiancé, who is very outspoken about respecting the religious beliefs of others – and thereby a heathen by present-day standards of Christian thinking.

Words like outlandish deficit, unprecedented debt, economic disaster and financial ruin will no doubt be shouted in every phone call emanating from the father of the bride. While they can readily be mistaken for unpatriotic comments on this administration’s fiscal policies, it’s just my Uncle Chester’s way of letting off steam about the expense of this wedding. The entire family is aware that for all his carrying-on, he has nothing to worry about. He’s got loads of money tied-up in the stock market and investments in mortgage companies – so what could possibly go wrong?

I want to especially caution you to hold the headphones away from your eardrums as you listen-in on my Aunt Mildred’s phone calls, because you’re going to get an earful, and the volume will be akin to a bomb landing in the midst of a crowd of Iraqi schoolchildren – that is, what I imagine such a thing would sound like, if it ever happened. Aunt Mildred has been in a really bad mood since her recently-returned grandson committed suicide as a result of the brain injury he suffered in combat because there wasn’t enough money to supply helmet-inserts (roughly $79 apiece) after KBR got reimbursed for supplying the troops with towels (roughly $79 apiece) embroidered with their logo.

But you know how these things go, Agent Mike. After all of the depleted uranium dust settles, the wedding will proceed as planned, and a good time will be had by all. The caterers will be serving delicacies exported from China, the bridal party will be dressed in exquisite but inexpensive outfits crafted by sweatshop labourers, and the happy couple will cover their luggage in Canadian flag stickers to ensure being welcomed by the citizens of the European countries they’ll be visiting on their honeymoon.

I don’t know who will wind up catching the bridal bouquet, but according to the always-reliable family reunion picnic poll, it’s down to my sister-in-law’s youngest, Suzie, and Cousin Bobby’s step son, Paul Jr. – and if you were one of us, you’d know the picnic poll is never wrong.

But like I said, I just wanted to fill you in, Agent Mike. I wouldn’t want my government operatives to be wasting their time analyzing my family’s phone conversations, flagging words and phrases that might seem, at first glance, to be more dire than more benign fare – like Bin Laden Determined to Strike in the US.

After all, we all know where that kind of ineptitude leads.

Thanks for listening, Agent Mike – and if you happen to be single, please let my Aunt Rose know. She’ll fix you up quicker than you can say the surge is working!