I was gonna go to the 7-11 today and pick up some magazines. Nothing rude, mind you. Maybe an EW or a People. Just to pass the time. And I know the fear...while I'm there, I might end up buying lottery tickets, a soda or some boot polish. Now you might ask why I don't have a subscription but the fact is, I don't read the magazines all that much. I know the kids like them but I hate having them in the house. But today, i was gonna cave in and pick up an issue of something.
So I grab the key and I'm about to go out when suddenly I'm paralyzed with fear. I begin worrying about Osama Bin Laden. What if he's out there, waiting for me and planning to kill me on the way to 7-11? That would J.P.S. (just plain suck)! I saw my dreams of a magazine disappear -- "damn you OsamaI" I thought. I really just want to go down to the corner and I can't because you might have plotted to blow up the mailbox near my house, right whern I'm on my way to 7-11 to buy a magazine.
But then I remember...we got him! Osama's dead so I can feel free to go get a magazine without the fear of some unknown 7 foot tall terrorist who might spring out and fly a plane into me (which would, by the way, J.P.S. also). But when I went outside my neighbor's dog barked at me, so I went back inside.
Mr. President, I think your mission at this point is clear.
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