Nothing that'll stop the world turning. No smoking gun. No cat out of the bag. No fox in the hen house. For all the mutterings in the corridors of Langley, the juiciest tit-bits so far (and I use that term intentionally) involve the Mad Dog of Libya, Muammar Qaddafi. Wait, stop the bus: maybe the fox is in the hen house...!
More tea, darlink? |
The cables state Qaddafi has female bodyguards rather than males, and say "it's unknown currently why he travels like that". Well, duuuuuuh, think about it!! Voluptuous? Blonde? Able to leap large beds in a single bound? Unt vis an irrrrrrresistable Rrrrrrrussian accent, and a 9mm Makarov tucked in her garter belt!
See the attraction? |
Other earthshattering revelations are that Qaddafi loves horse-racing and flamenco dancing. So...? To hell with all that: the man likes blonde voluptuous Ukrainian nurses... inside-out!
Qaddafi, you've just risen in my esteem by mega-points! Go, you Mad Dog, you!
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