Just a year after George W. Bush released his memoir Decision Points, Cheney has released his memoir In My Time. The book is filled with alot of the same stories, but from a much less apologetic standpoint. Cheney has long been a controversial figure, and this book was just the catalyst the media has been waiting for to fully flesh out the controversy. It seems like the books mission isn't to inform the reader, but rather to evoke an emotion from the reader, whether it be bad or good.
"Good work". Apparently you saw that I listed Cheney as one of my heroes on Facebook. I actually read the book this time, thus a testament to the fact that I appreciate the thought and your efforts.
Cheney is one of my heroes, but it has nothing to do with his policies or political views. He's my hero because he makes hippies really, really mad.
This guy makes hacky-sackers angrier than a storm drain in the middle of a community college parking lot. He's more of a "downer" to the flower children than being epileptic at a Jefferson Airplane laser light show. For eight years he was the cause of all frowns in San Francisco.
Now all the frowns in San Francisco are caused by Sean Penn and his attempts to bring back the "Human Be-in Festival". Even those smelly bastards were like, "Listen rain man....dial it down a little."
Since I was a teen, making hippies unhappy has been a hobby of mine. I've stolen the bike racks from every Whole Foods I've ever lived near. I've handed out regular brownies at Phish concert. My greatest feat to date was getting a vegan girl pregnant and then guilting her into keeping it. (NOTE: remember to remove this sentence before posting.)
Hippies have been on my hitlist since I was a child. When I went to my baby sitter's house her older, hippy sister, who thought I was a "cool lil' dude", would come over and try to high-five me. But I would reject her high fives, even at the tender age of 4. If you try to touch me and you smell like beans, I'm going to ignore you. If you persist, you would be lucky if I don't punch you square in the face. After all of her high-fives attempts she would force an embrace on me, where my face was constantly scratched by her fat stubbly walrus like arms and orangutan arm pits.
In any case, In My Time is a suggested read from me. If you don't want to read it for the hippy hate(because you love PBR/sucking buttholes), surely you can look to find plenty of hate and other hilarity in Mr. Cheney's audacity to write an actual book. Seriously!? Honestly, that's all i was going to post for this article was the words "really!? ...Serious? He has a boo....What!? Who would.....WHY would......REEEEALLLY!?". But I do suggest it. Live, learn, laugh, hate hippies.
T. C. Beverly
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