Sunday, March 18, 2007


The New Spartan's Battle Drills:

"Contact" (my lawyer) "over"

"Adjust Statement, over"

"Add 'per our ROE', drop lines 12-17."

The GCC, three motarjim, and me...

So me and the 3 Mexicans walk into the Alamo. Sitting behind the table is a duck. The duck's beak hit's the floor. He squawked "moqtada-flaq!".

I think I seen the same duck a month later on the Saddam snuff video. It's tough to be sure...all the ducks look the same in ski masks and leather jackets.

So I ask the duck.."are we early, or late?"

The duck smiled oleaginously and said "no habibbi, you are just in time". The other duck began a hushed, furtive cell phone call.

After that, the motarjim were searched with barely restrained violence, all the while smiling and grinning at me with beaks dripping ducks have fangs? And the furtive, hurried cell calls continued, with the ducks waving their oily feathers of welcome at me and my increasingly alarmed charges. As I was the lone Amiriki, we decided we forgot some key paperwork and imshii'd the fiki outta there before the ducks got the go ahead call on the cell phone.

The lesson's of the close encounter with the ducks: 1) no one at the Green Zone knows what the fiki they're talking about, even under their own noses (they sent us over there as we were looking for Iraqi passports). 2) the motarjim (terps) are dead at the hands of the ducks the day we leave, 3) never go anywhere without enough duck hunters, 4) I think the ducks are gonna win this race.


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