NBC has fired Peter Arnett for his comments on Iraqi TV. What a shame. He was only telling the truth. Isn't that what a journalist is supposed to do?

Petey and I are good friends. He came by the bunker just last week. And he's such a nice guy! He complimented Uday on his appearance, telling my son he looked good for someone who's been dead a week.

Afterwards the three of us went out for pizza. NBC may not know this, but Petey charged it to his corporate American Express card. Bet the bigwigs in New York are going to be MAJORLY pissed when they find out they paid for my dinner!!

Overall the tab really wasn't that much, since Uday didn't seem to have much of an appetite. He just sat there.

Good thing we left the restaurant when we did. It wasn't even ten minutes when a Tomahawk leveled the entire block.

Anyway, I spoke to Petey a little while ago. He's applying for a job at Al-Jazeera.

I'm writing his letter of recommendation.

The invaders remain stuck about 60 Kilometers outside Baghdad. They should not be surprised. This city has long been known for having the worst traffic in Iraq. Between sandstorms, car crashes, jackknifed tractor trailers, rubbernecking delays, mating camels, and downed Hueys, it's always something.

There have been a number of proposals over the years to widen the Baghdad Beltway, but they are always met by opposition from various nomadic Bedouin tribes screaming "Not In My Back Yard!!" Well, hell, they're nomads!! The whole damn desert is their backyard, for crying out loud! Move somewhere else!

I try to gas them, but by then they've always wandered off to somewhere else.

My longtime Deputy Prime Minister Tariq Aziz and I just finished up an all night meeting. We have been discussing the current progress of the war, its likely outcome, and our future prospects. We also tried to contact UN Secretary General Kofi Annan, but international phone calls are difficult when one is forced to communicate using tin cans and string. Anyway, I personally feel the UN is worthless and we should go it alone. Tariq, on the other hand, feels that the cooperation of other nations is essential for success.

But the real question is, just how long will our forces have to occupy a postwar United States? It will undoubtedly end up being an open ended commitment, depending on how long it takes autocracy to take root in that troubled nation.

We will probably put Republican Guard forces in charge of areas east of the Mississippi River, while units from the Fedayeen Militia will have responsibility for areas to the west. Our seat of government will be in San Francisco, which is already a bastion of support for us.

One sticking point: No one wants New Jersey.

On the way out the door, Tariq suggested that I bury Uday, who remains dead and is beginning to smell just a bit.

Now, if it had been anyone else making such a suggestion, I would have shot them on the spot. But Tariq and I go back a long time, and he is among my most trusted advisors and loyal friends. His judgement is impeccable. I fully appreciate the fact that he would disagree with me only if he were 100% certain of his position.

In light of all that, I decided to merely pistol whip him until he screamed like a camel in heat. Then I pistol whipped him some more.

Just finished watching a Pentagon news briefing on CNN. Two things struck me about it. First, it's obvious that the infidel leaders are frantically trying to put the best spin possible on the fact that we are are winning. Yes, it's true that the invading forces from the depths of Hell have established air supremacy, but the last time I looked, Baghdad was not located somewhere up in the atmosphere. It is down here on the ground. And we control the ground. Granted, it is shaking a lot under the constant pummeling by those 1000 and 2000 pound bombs, but it is still ours.

Secondly, that Victoria Clarke is one hot babe.

Good news and bad news: The good news is that one of my missiles got through to Kuwait City and hit a shopping mall. The bad news is that I was aiming for the Target.... Get it? Aiming for the Target!! HA, HA, HA!

Who says brutal despots can't have a sense of humor?

The Mother of All Battles is almost upon us, and Momma is one big, mean, nasty, foul-tempered woman.

Kind of like a really pissed off Queen Latifah.

Now the Americans are complaining that the war is not going according to their plan. Gee, I'm sorry, I must have lost my copy of the script. This is not Kuwait we are defending this time around. It is our own soil. Even my son Uday is vowing to fight on, and he's been dead since last week. My people may hate me, but they don't particularly care for invaders either.

Besides, I told them the reason you were coming here was to steal their children's internal organs for use in transplants.

Thankfully, dawn is upon us. It has been a long night. I have been unable to communicate with my commanders in the field since yesterday evening because smoke signals don't seem to work when it's pitch black outside. Plus, it has just occurred to me that none of us speaks Navajo.

Word has gotten out that our brave, loyal, dedicated troops are kicking in doors and forcing all males to take up arms. This is another example of the vicious propaganda put out by the western media, which everyone knows is a puppet of the Pentagon, which everyone knows is controlled by the international zionist conspiracy. The truth is that while males over the age of six are being ENCOURAGED to fight on behalf of Iraq, it is NOT by any means compulsory! Potential recruits are given a choice: Join the valiant struggle to repel the invaders, or my security forces will shoot your entire family, your neighbors, the people in your email address book, your goats, and that cute little puppy you bought the kids because they absolutely promised to take care it themselves but of course don't.

So as you can see, it's complete freedom of choice!

With the sandstorms having passed, tonight's bombing has been incessant. They have destroyed three more of my palaces, bringing the total to 57. What a waste of fine architecture, marble, and solid gold toilet seats.... I know what you're thinking, but don't worry: They have built in warmers. I mean, what do you think I am? Some kind of savage? Anyway, I don't know how I'm going to explain all this to my insurance company.

After I discovered that my phone calls were being monitered by the unlawful invaders threatening to install democracy in Iraq, thereby spoiling my fun, I decided to communicate with my military commanders by way of carrier pigeon. Well, that hasn't worked out too well, either. Apparently the troops are so hungry that they end up eating the birds without bothering to read my orders. As a result, I will now be issuing my commands by way of smoke signals. That should be easy enough. God knows we have enough smoke around here. Oh, and if you're wondering, there has been no change in Uday's condition.

Those bastards just knocked Iraqi TV off the air again. Right in the middle of my favorite show, Buffy the Invading Infidel Horde Slayer. She was just getting ready to stake their leader, General Spike.

I also ended up missing Sand Trek: The Next Generation.

Maybe I'll check with Salam Pax to see if he taped either of the shows. He lives just down the street from my bunker and has a satellite dish.

President Bush has announced that his war will cost at least $75 Billion. WOW!!!! I am quite flattered that he is spending all that money on me.

I hope he's not going to expect anything in return. I mean, yeah, sure, I can be a flirt at times, but that's just talk. I'm really not THAT kind of despot.

Uday is still dead.

I have just received word that the citizens of Basra are revolting.

So what? This is nothing new. Those Shi'ite muslims have never been particularly fond of bathing.

Thank Allah my computer is up and running. I just read in the online edition of USAToday that Delta Force commandos have tapped into my phone line! Good thing the Americans have a free press or I would never have found out! I shall begin using carrier pigeons to communicate with my subordinates.

I used to complain that AOL sucks, but to their credit, I still have internet access. It's slow as molasses in a January sandstorm, but at least it's working.

I'm tempted to email North Korea's Kim Jong-il for reinforcements, but he'd probably just go off into one of his nonsensical rants again. I think the Syphillis is beginning to effect his mind.

I asked Uday earlier to clean up some of the debris lying around the bunker, but has he? No! He just stays in that chair, slumped against the wall. If it weren't for the duct tape holding him upright, he'd be srawled all over the floor. Sometimes I wonder if he is truly a product of my loins, or if his mother cheated on me. I would ask her, but I can't remember which of my wives bore him.

He's always been a little lazy, but this is ridiculous. I can't help but feel he is taking unfair advantage of this whole being dead thing.

Here's a story that says there are a number of websites taking bets on when I'll die. Careful what you wager. In fact, if I were you, I'd start taking bets on how long it will take for the INVADERS to surrender to ME.

There is an old saying, "It ain't over till the fat lady sings." And she's in Baghdad at this very moment clearing her throat.

That last bombing raid caused my son Uday to fall out of his chair. I had to lift him back up and duct tape him in place. Granted, he's still dead, but I think he's getting better.

Once I emerge triumphant from the current brouhaha, I'm going to need a new cabinet. Most of the members of the old one are still buried in the rubble of my command bunker. And since it's obvious that it was a highly placed spy that gave away my location last Thursday morning, I'll have to execute not only the surviving cabinet members, but everyone else I know. Then I'll execute everyone they know, and then I'll execute everyone THEY know. It's kind of a three degrees of Kevin Bacon thing, if you know what I mean.

Consequently, I remain on the lookout for new, potential cabinet ministers. Prior experience is not necessary, since I'll be making all the decisions myself. What is required, however, is a shared hatred of the United States, its system of government, and all that its flag represents.

That's why I tuned in to the Academy Awards show last night. Where else can one find a greater concentration of America bashers than in Hollywood? Outside of Paris, I mean.

And I was not disappointed! The man who most caught my attention was Michael Moore when he won for best documentary. Okay, that's a stupid category, and the man looks like a homeless goat, but I found his acceptance speech both moving and inspirational. He referred to Bush as a "fictional President" and called the current conflict a "fictional war." From where I'm cowering, it doesn't look TOO fictional at the moment, but it's the thought that counts. By the time he finished, I was openly weeping tears of joy. I don't normally show such emotion in front of my closest aids, but they'll soon be dead, so who cares?

When the time comes to rebuild Iraq, I shall name Mr. Moore my Minister of Propaganda. Of course, he will have to shave and get a haircut first.....

Things got really ugly earlier when another bombing knocked out my satellite feed. Ordinarily this wouldn't be a problem, except that it happened halfway through a Sopranos rerun. My phone service was restored earlier today, so I was able to call the cable company. Now if you, dear reader, got a call from Saddam Hussein, you'd stop whatever you're doing and talk to me, right? I said "RIGHT?" No, that was NOT intended as a question....

Anyway, the cable company had the audacity to put ME on hold!!!! Obviously these people had a martyrdom wish!!!! You don't make me spend five minutes of my valuable time listening to a Muzak version of "Yesterday." At least not if you value your life. I ended up sending Chemical Ali down to their offices to straighten out the situation. Ali can be MOST persuasive when he starts pulling out his little vials and spray cans.

So why do I, a well respected world reknown despotic mass murdering dictator, watch the Sopranos? Why, for inspiration, of course! I really identify with that Tony. We tend to solve potential problems the same way: A single gunshot to the back of the head. And while he has his bumbling FBI agent Harris always trying to nail him, I have the equally bumbling Hans Blix to worry about. Or I did, until he went back to Sweden. I should have handcuffed the two of us together when I had the chance.

One important differnce, though, is that Tony and his people waste a lot of time disposing of the remains of their "policy decisions." Me, I prefer to stack my policy decisions in neat piles on street corners. That tends to send a rather clear message to those who would question my judgement.

My son Uday is not looking too good. I have had propped him up in a chair in the corner ever since we dug him out from under the 50 tons of collapsed concrete and steel. I had to use a bicycle pump to reinflate his body, which actually worked better than I expected. But now he just sits there. I talk to him, but he won't answer.

One of my cabinet aids, Abdullah, said that's because Uday has been dead since that initial missile strike Thursday morning. I thanked Abdullah for volunteering his opinion, then shot him. I don't need negative vibes like that. Not at a time like this.

On the bright side, I have just been informed that we have captured some POW's. See? I'm feeling better already.

Well, it's about time...! CNN has FINALLY decided to tell the truth about the evil being unleashed upon my poor, helpless nation. A peace loving nation that has never EVER hurt anyone! Not even a fly!!!

Well, okay, there was that thing with the mustard gas and the 15,000 Kurds, but that doesn't really count. Those were Kurds, after all, not people or insects.

Finally dug my way out of there and went to the store. Stocked up on some basic necessities like french fries, french bread, french dressing, French's mustard, and German chocolate cake. I also decided to splurge a little bit and bought the latest Dixie Chicks CD and a couple of Sean Penn movies. If you notice a pattern there, it's because I know who my friends are.

Needless to say, there was no Texas Pete Hot Sauce on my grocery list.

They're bombing me again. I can wait them out, though. Sooner or later, they're bound to run out of bombs.

This whole situation points out the fundamental problem with democracy: Every few years they have these things called elections. True, I have had elections here as well, but under the west's system, you're NOT allowed to shoot the people that vote against you. That adds an unacceptable level of uncertainty to the outcome.

Consequently, western countries are subject to periodic changes in leadership. That also leads to broader changes in governmental policies.

That is not fair to dictators like me. We get used to doing things a certain way and become used to thumbing our noses at world opinion. We do this because there are never any serious consequences. Granted, they impose sanctions, and on occassion lob a cruise missile or two at us, but that's it. And sanctions are not a big deal. Invariably, there are loopholes allowing for "humanitarian" reasons. But we can always skim a little (Okay, sometimes a lot) off the top to build lavish palaces and buy forbidden weapons. But again, we do this because we can. It's a great little scam.

Then all of a sudden, some big powerful democratic country has one of those election things, someone new takes over, and suddenly they actually MEAN what they say?!?! How the hell is someone like me supposed to know when they're serious in their threats to invade?

I miss Bill Clinton.

I never did get a chance to go to the store. Between the shrapnel, fireballs, flying body parts, and collapsing buildings, it just wasn't safe to venture out. But even in here, I couldn't sleep because of the racket. And when I don't get enough sleep, I get cranky. And when I get cranky, I gas the Kurds. That has never failed to make me feel better when I'm feeling down.

But now I can't even do that! The phone lines have been cut, and my cellphone doesn't seem to work right either. Damn Verizon people deserve to be taken out and shot. Or did I do that last month....? No, no... I'm thinking of the Microsoft Tech Support team that was stationed here in Baghdad. Those people DEFINITELY deserved to be shot.

The Verizon people will be next, assuming I can eventually dig my way out of this bunker. Every time I try calling someone, all I get is this annoying voice that says, "Hey Saddam, can you hear us now.....? Good."

I knew I should have gone with T-Mobile. That Catherine Zeta-Jones is hot.

Well, I've almost used up all my Scuds, which is actually pretty good, since I didn't have any to begin with. HA HA HA!!!! Fooled that dumb Swede, Hans Blix, though.

You've probably heard that the Americans are meeting with light resistance, and that my troops are surrendering en masse. This is all part of my brilliant military strategy to lull the invading hordes into a false sense of confidence. Just wait till they get to Baghdad!! Or more precisely, what's LEFT of Baghdad.

Does Amazon.Com sell hearing aids? I need one after what happened in that bunker the other day. That was louder than that Who concert I went to back in '75.

Anyway, I better stock up for what promises to be a long seige. I'm going to head over to my favorite store for supplies.

There is some speculation as to whether or not I was killed this morning. Poppycock!! If I were dead, don't you think I'd be the first to know about it? But if I am, in fact, now officially eligible to play the role of "the corpse" on Six Feet Under, then who appeared on Iraqi TV after the attack? Yes, I suppose it COULD have been one of my officially certified body doubles, but what would the point be?

For that matter, how do you know it's the REAL Saddam making these blog entries and not some imposter posing as me? I mean, posing as HIM, since if I was really me, I wouldn't be posing as me to begin with? Then again, I could ACTUALLY be me, but posing as an imposter posing as me in an effort to throw off the American intelligence services.

Then again, how do you know I'm not a 15 year old high school cheerleader in Poughkeepsie, New York?

Some points for you to ponder....

Nice try, Mr. Bush, but you missed. And quite frankly, I'm not very impressed so far.

Say.... Where's Uday?

WHAT THE F*CK WAS THAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Well, the 48 hour deadline has passed and there are no bombs falling and no American tanks rolling through the countryside. It is completely silent outside. Well, ALMOST completely silent, except for the wailing women & screaming children my soldiers have dragged out of their homes to use as human shields.

I knew all along Bush was bluffing.

Don't tell anyone, but I have begun consolidating my military forces in and around Baghdad.

I was afraid of what effect the current crisis would have on my family, but it doesn't seem to be bothering them. My sons continue to go about their daily business as usual, looting villages, pillaging women, and raping livestock.

I am very proud of them.

I have been up all night looking for my mustard gas, but for the life of me, I can't remember where I put it.

I know I had ten tons of it a couple of weeks ago. That's when it was hidden in Mosul. Then I ordered it moved to Baqubah, and when the UN inspectors started snooping around there, it was supposed to be moved to Kirkuk. But according to IraqEx, it was shipped to Tikrit by mistake. From there it supposedly went to Bayji, but no one in Bayji remembers signing for it.

I've been calling IraqiExpress, but no one's answering the phone. I think the cowardly bastards have all fled to Jordan.

Sometimes it's lonely at the top.

So Bush has delivered his ultimatum. Now let him enforce it. We Iraqis are a proud people and shall not surrender so easily. Sure, we gave up Kuwait without much of a fight, but that wasn't our soil. But now the Americans are talking about invading Baghdad itself. My people will fight to the death to defend their country. And if they don't, I will kill the sniveling cowards myself.

I will not leave Iraq. This is where I have lived my entire life. There is no way I will ever go into exile. My friends and most loyal followers are here by my side, and are prepared to lay down their lives to protect me. Am I right, people? Uh, I said, AM I RIGHT PEOPLE?! Hello? Hey, where'd everyone go?

Now those Americans really have me confused. For years they've been bitchin' and moanin' about how I wouldn't let UN inspectors into the country. So FINALLY I give in to their demands and let them in. Keep in mind this has been terribly inconvenient for me. Having to continuously keep moving our weapons of mass destruction--I mean ALLEGED weapons of mass destruction--from one location to another (supposedly, I mean) has not been easy. But we decided to do it, hoping against hope that Bush would stop harping on how I once gassed 5,000 Kurds. Gimme a break!!! That was 15 years ago!!! Give it a rest already!!!

Anyway, now he turns around and is telling the inspectors to get OUT of Iraq!?! Can't he make up his mind already? He's worse than a woman. "Should I wear these shoes or those shoes? This dress or that dress? Disarm him or completely change the regime?"

I just wish he'd stop waffling and show a little backbone.

Well, Bush and two puppets from Britain and Spain have set a deadline of tomorrow for me to disarm. Big whoop. By my count, this is the 347th deadline in the last 12 years. Then again, the other 346 times didn't include 250,000 American and British troops breathing down my neck. Well, we'll see. Bush would have to be insane to attack me with the opposition he's facing both at home and abroad. I draw strength from those protesters. Why, it's better than Viagra!!! Um, not that I've EVER needed any artificial help to, um, "launch my Scud," if you know what I mean..... If Bush wants to see a REAL weapon of mass destruction, I got it hangin' right here!

Even the Dixie Chicks are on my side. Maybe I'll invite them to Baghdad and personally show them my big, massive, throbbing long range missile.

This latest summit meeting of the "Axis of Warmongers" is meant to intimidate me through a show of unity. HA, HA, HA.... Give me a break!! I mean, yes, the United States is certainly intimidating. The British TRY to be scary, but let's face it: They talk funny. And Spain? Now that's a hoot!!! Does Spain even HAVE an army?!? What are they going to do? Send bullfighters over here? Remember that whole Spanish Armada fiasco of theirs a few hundred years ago? So much for their navy.

On the other hand, the opposition to this supposedly coming war is much more unified. Russia, China, France, Germany, and the rest of Europe are all against it. Well, there was that one embarassing incident a few days ago when France surrendered to Germany. But that was cleared up when someone explained to Jacques Chirac that this time they were both on the same side.

Anyway, that's where things stand now.

Oh sh*t.....!

Well, this was certinly a pleasant surprise!! The Americans just gave me a wonderful present: A brand new Ford Explorer with a set of four Firestone tires!

I guess they really like me after all!

Watched the Bush's press conference. Very interesting. Not many people know this, but I sometimes hold press conferences. Then at the end of the press conferences, assuming I liked the questions, we release the reporters' families. It's always nice to see those tearful reunions of the survivors.

Anyway, I wasn't particularly impressed. Bush really didn't have anything new to say. Just the usual stuff about kicking my butt if I don't give up my weapons of mass destruction, which I don't have and will not hesitate to use when the United States attacks. Um, I mean, I would not hesitate to use IF I had them. But I don't. Really. Don't know what he's talking about.

I do appreciate him saying that he will tell the UN inspectors to leave before he launches his attack. That should give me plenty of time to be conveniently out of town on the big day.

I went shopping today. All the K-Marts and Wal-Marts have been turned into Targets for some reason.

Very odd....

One of the very few things I like about the United States is their free press. They can print whatever they want, and the President is powerless to have them executed.



What the hell kind of President is THAT?



And sometimes this free press prints things that are incredibly helpful to me. For example, USAToday has published an article outlining their military's plans for waging war on my poor, impoverished nation. Why, I myself have been reduced to making do with a mere 17 grand palaces. We can barely afford to pay our nuclear physicists.... Um, I mean, IF we had nuclear physicists, THEN we could barely afford to pay them.... Anyway, these published plans have proven to be immensely helpful in the planning of my defenses.



My spies, on the other hand, have proven to be worthless. Every time we send someone over there, they defect!! Then I'm forced to kill their wives, children, parents, in-laws, nephews, cousins, and paperboys. Then what happens? I get yelled at by human rights groups! It's just not fair.



Anyway, they defect and get jobs in America driving cabs, or working in something called a "7-11," or serving as HMO primary caregivers. These treacherous SOB's claim that such menial jobs are somehow better than the wide array of career paths available to them here, such as working as an (alleged) poison gas tester, or operating a (make-believe) nuclear reactor, or, most respected of all, a job artificially inseminating camels.



Why would anyone want to live any place else?