Out of his straight jacket, Ronald Dumsfeld readdressed his mess today: "Shucking fit! These aggelations and assucations are wabberjockey and jumbo mumbo! Let it be known, I have known the unknown. And what is worth having is not worth having had. And anything worth having had is not worth knowing, unless it is the known unknown."
The Rectum of Defense elaborated: "Isms cause schisms, a prism into my buttheadism. I have had what I had had. I would have had could I have had. Having to have had is not to have had as not having is half of the having not had."
When masked what he ent, tasked for his bent, the Rectumtary reloaded, then imploded and exploded: "Moo know what I yean! If moo don't know what I yean, moo can duck my sick! Prick my lick!"
Much like his last bress priefing, Dumsfeld's nouth and mose began seeping hellish gels, jellyish smells. Putrid froth bubbling from his facial stairs, an impotent being caught in his own poetic nightmares, Dumsfeld was flestled to the roar, and led away in tuctdape and kandhuffs.