Okay, I just want to air a pet peeve here. It’s probably just me, but…

When I find out that some of my neighbors might be terrorists, it’s upsetting, of course. And of course I want the the government to DO something about it. Naturally. That’s their job.

But you know what I hate? I hate it when they cut my power to cripple the whole area. That really cheeses me off, let me tell you. I have work to do. Still, I guess they have to get the evil doers.

But then when they fire those so-called “precision guided” missiles at my block? And a missile crashes into my home and kills my daughter and maims one of my sons and destroys my house and leaves me with only one leg? That makes me downright indignant sometimes, I have to say. Still, I try to keep a good attitude. We’re at war, after all, and I try to do my part.

I guess it really starts to bug me when the soldiers swarm into my home and pin me and the remnants of my family to the floor and then start shouting at me in a foreign language. Gosh, that kinda gets my goat. A bunch of guys from India or something, Hindus, I guess, running all around what used to be my house. It’s not that I don’t respect their mission - I do. I just wish I could sit ‘em down and say “Hey, I’m not a terrorist, you probably want my neighbor in 15B - he’s always seemed a little weird, and he goes out at night a lot. Oh, and could you maybe help me find my leg?” Not that I want to rat on my neighbor, but if the problem is Lenny, it’s kind of my patriotic duty to let people know. But as I said, I can’t really talk to the soldiers, and that puts me in a bit of a pickle.

And, I confess, around that time I tend to get a little resentful. I wish I could stay more positive about the whole thing, but I’ve always had anger issues, and sometimes I backslide a little. Especially when I can’t find that little rubber “stress ball” I keep on my desk because my desk was last seen flying through my study’s window in a few hundred burning pieces. That’s usually when I try to make a little joke, like, “Well, now I’m going to have to re-alphabetize all my files.” You know, just to lighten the atmosphere. But underneath, I’m not laughing. And the foreign soldiers aren’t getting the joke anyway.

But I guess it really sort of gets tough to keep my sunny side up when they drag me away for some questioning. Sure, I want to do my civic duty, but with the whole business of the burning house and the blown-up family, I’d just rather be at home at times like that. It’s a little selfish, I know, but there it is. I mean, in theory I’m pretty psyched about my freedoms being protected for me and my remaining children. But in practice, well, I’m not a happy camper. Yes, I know it’s not the soldiers’ fault - it’s Lenny’s, or whoever’s. Intellectually, I definitely know this. But I still find myself getting a little hot under the collar about the whole thing.

Once again, I realize that this doesn’t reflect well on me, I know that. It’s just a pet peeve, and I wanted to get it off my chest. Thanks.

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The battle for Fallujah began today, and I’m confident we’ll win. Within a certain definition of “winning”,” of course.