Have you noticed anything fishy about
> > > > > the
> > > > > inspection teams who have arrived in Iraq? They're
> > > > > all men!
How in the name of the United Nations
> > > > > does
> > > > > anyone expect men to find Saddam's stash? We all
> > > > > know that men have a
> > > > > blind spot when it comes to finding things. For
> > > > > crying' out loud! Men
> > > > > can't find the dirty clothes hamper. Men can't find
> > > > > the jar of jelly
> > > > > until it falls out of the cupboard and splatters on
> > > > > the floor.... and
> > > > > these are the people we have sent into Iraq to
> > > > > search for hidden weapons
> > > > > of mass destruction?
I keep wondering why groups of mothers
> > > > > weren't
> > > > > sent in. Mothers can sniff out secrets quicker than
> > > > > a drug dog can find
> > > > > a gram of dope. Mothers can find gin bottles that
> > > > > dads have stashed in
> > > > > the attic beneath the rafters. They can sniff out a
> > > > > diary two rooms and
> > > > > one floor away. They can tell when the lid of a
> > > > > cookie jar has been
> > > > > disturbed and notice when a quarter inch slice has
> > > > > been shaved off a
> > > > > chocolate cake. A mother can smell alcohol on your
> > > > > breath before you get
> > > > > your key in the front door and can smell cigarette
> > > > > smoke from a block
> > > > > away. By examining laundry, a mother knows more
> > > > > about their kids than
> > > > > Sherlock Holmes. And if a mother wants an answer to
> > > > > question, she can
> > > > > read an offender's eyes quicker than a homicide
> > > > > detective.
So... considering the value a mother
> > > > > could
> > > > > bring to an inspection team, why are we sending a
> > > > > bunch of old men who
> > > > > will rely on electronic equipment to scout out
> > > > > hidden threats?
My mother would walk in with a wooden
> > > > > soup
> > > > > spoon in one hand, grab Saddam by the ear, give it a
> > > > > good twist and
> > > > > snap, "Young man, do you have any weapons of mass
> > > > > destruction?" And God
> > > > > help him if he tried to lie to her. She'd march him
> > > > > down the street to
> > > > > some secret bunker and shove his nose into a nuclear
> > > > > bomb and say, "Uh,
> > > > > huh, and what do you call this, mister?" Whap!
> > > > > Thump! Whap! Whap! Whap!
> > > > > And she'd lay some stripes across his bare bottom
> > > > > with that soup spoon,
> > > > > then march him home in front of the whole of
> > > > > Baghdad. He'd not only come
> > > > > clean and apologize for lying about it, he'd cut
> > > > > every lawn in Baghdad
> > > > > for free for the whole damn summer.
> > > > > Inspectors my ass... You want the job
> > > > > done?
> > > > > Call my mother.