So another retired Iraqi scientist comes forward with a bottle of bototoxin he had in the fridge alongside the milk and eggs. Bush and his WMD team gloat. See, we told you so. Come off it. Every plastic surgeon on the planet has a bottle or three of bototoxin lying around these days.

As if to underscore the bush's less than stellar IQ, we were treated to some of his poetry, courtesy of his wife. I won't repeat it here. It's purportedly a love/miss-you poem written whilst she was out romping with Chirac. Based on the ever popular 'roses are red' so he wouldn't have to make up very many more words. Calls his wife a lump and shows his jealousy. Charming...

Still not convinced? How about getting the Serbs to help us with patrolling Kandahar? I'm serious. The Serbs!