I saw a picture in the paper of Mr Obama sitting in a room watching the tele and was under the impression that he and his pals were watching the live feed of an abortive attempt to finally, and peacefully, bring Osama Bin Laden to justice.
I think I was labouring under that impression because that’s what the Commander in Chief told us in his press conference, admittedly his nose was getting longer and longer the whole time he was talking, but still, I’m sure that’s what he said.
It now seems that the photographer must have inadvertently snapped Barack and his mates watching Monday’s episode of Eastenders, where we were treated to Zainab snogging Masood because, in the picture at least, something had obviously just completely horrified Mrs Clinton
I hear ya Hilary, I nearly lost my dinner too.
Turns out that the armed to the teeth Navy Seals didn’t pop round the Bin Laden’s to have a bit of a chat about the possibility that maybe he should think about handing himself in now, because the blag was well and truly up.
No, they barged into his bedroom and, throwing all notions of democracy to the wind, gunned him down in his PJ’s.
Now I agree that, by the look of his bedroom, his Mrs wasn’t all the way committed to orderliness, but shooting her in the leg was a probably a bit strong.
Anyway, in the resulting kerfuffle, the top gun calibre, special forces soldiers, got the wrong end of the stick and thought that’ Bin-doing-nothing-much-‘cept –sleepin’ was firing an AK47 at them while using one of his many bitches as a human shield.
USA Inc. must have thought that whole Nuremburg episode of World War Two was, in retrospect, a bit of a dull, snooze-fest because they decided to bypass the formality of a trial by jury and just pop a cap in his ass.
Act in haste, repent at leisure.
That’s all I’m saying.