Today is George W. Bush's 70th birthday. Offer your heartfelt well-wishes here.

[sofa king]

28. Look at what you have wrought, Mr. Bush.

Dear George,

As you sit in the lap of luxury in your whites-only neighborhood while Texas burns, take a moment to realize just how much of a tragic failure you were as President.

You never won. You got close enough to steal it, twice. To protect yourself you lied to start wars that have now killed millions, including thousands of Americans. Then you cut veterans' benefits so that thousands more Americans died and killed themselves. You lied, you cheated, you stole, you hid, you destroyed. You left America a shell of its former self, adrift in the sea of amoral effluvia that you denied was rising as ardently as the seas which are devouring your property holdings today.

I'll give you a minute to look up "effluvia."

Now, as your hateful wife dictates this to you, because you can barely read, the enormity of your failure should be weighing on you again. But it wasn't all for nought. Many good things have begun to emerge from your malign rule.

Look there, a black man is a two-term President and he accomplished more positive things in his first one hundred days than you ever did in your life! Over there a woman is going to be the next President! And over there, Republicans are about to lose the House, the Senate, and the Supreme Court. Your pal Dick Cheney is a resident of Dubai now, and he only comes over for two weeks a year to avoid paying taxes. Antonin Scalia is dead and now Clarence Thomas has to crib off of someone else, just like you did at Yale.

All these good things are a direct result of your being the worst President in American history. Some day, in a future America where racism is a memory and narcissists like you are forbidden from holding high office, people will point back and say, "George Bush made all this possible. By being so bad, he forced America to become great again." Every evil and self-serving thing you did is being walked back and undone, and the walls are closing in on you now, a prisoner in your own gated community.

I'm happy to know that your reclusion--that means hiding--is a symptom of the depression that gnaws at your self-esteem and gives you no peace. The demons that chase you now are a mere shadow of those that will tear at your soul when you are dead and burning in Hell.

See you there,

sofa king