On the 14th of December 2008, during a press conference in Iraq, United States President George W. Bush dodges a pair of shoes journalist Muntadhar al-Zaidi threw at him.
When all a journalist is left to fight with are his shoes, & when words lose their meaning, you know that there is no truth.
Complaints on the soles of our shoes.
I wish the dirty soles of Muntadhar’s shoes violently hit Bush’s rosy cheeks.
I wish he didn’t duck under that stupid wooden podium.
I wish his post-attack smirk was replaced by a cry of pain and tears of agony.
I wish he could feel one millionth of the hurt and loss he has caused.
I do not believe in hell but I wish he would rot in it.
PS: I hate his paintings.