Like the blue plumaged bird of the famed sketch, Saddam is kaput. Dead. Gone where the goblins go. Not breathing. Deceased. Finis. Done in. No longer dictatiting.
I only wish I had heard the news before i returned from the after hours club celebarations. I would have drunk an extra pint to celebrate the first day of his non-existence and the glory of a Saddam-free New Year!
I guess I will have to toast his departure tonight instead. I will raise high a Guinness to celebrate the first night of an infinite number he will spend toasting in a slightly different way.