Weeded

In the weeds again today, just nosing around, trying to get out, when this frog appeared. He looked a lot like Alfred E. Neuman, and he seemed confused, even a little disoriented. He was oblivious to the sludge around him because he was talking to himself about some problems he felt he was having:

“Okay, now let’s see what we’ve done here,” he was saying, “my talking points again… the war, yes, the war, we couldn’t find bin Laden, so we invaded Iraq, for no good reason, or we couldn’t find the reasons, I mean the weapons, but anyway, we plunged our budget into a horrendous deficit to make Iraq safe for democracy and inflamed all those other crazy towel heads beyond our wildest dreams. But we did get Saddam, Dad. Heh, heh. Then to distract everybody from this social, economic and human disaster we attacked Social Security. We said it was broken, and we tried to get everyone to pay for it out of their own pockets. But that didn’t work. They saw right through that. Damn. In the meantime, Dick was very slick and got a lot of work for all those guys at Halliburton and some of our other companies. Now the price of oil is going out of sight, and so now I guess we’re in fat city! Oh, but I probably shouldn’t say that or else people might think we’re just in it for the money and don’t care about anybody else or something. Jeez. Maybe I should talk to Karl about all this, just to be sure I got it straight. If I could just figure out how to get out of here, and then past that woman out there on the road, and all those other people who want to talk to me. What do they want? What do they want from me? I’m just doing my job here, right? Jeez…”

Then he just trailed off, and as he hopped away, he seemed more like a toad.