Monday, September 3, 2007


“Great, so this asshole can’t wait to get home to the ranch to kick back and drive a truck? And I’m supposed to do what? Sit around and watch him lick his balls for a change? What about me? I’ve been crappin’ in the Rose Garden for 6 ½ years, eatin’ steak, livin’ like royalty and now what? I’m supposed to go back to that Texas pisshole and chase armadillas? Eat me. Not to mention the shit I’m gonna take from every bitch in the neighborhood, raggin’ on me that my master used the power of his office to nearly start World War III, let New Orleans drown, ratted out a CIA agent as a political ploy to deflect attention from being busted in a lie, employed greedy bastards, megalomaniacs and incompetents in every government office, let lobbyists run amok like it was the California Gold Rush, played fast and loose with the Constitution, and spent trillions on a war nobody wanted. And for that he thinks he’s goin’ on the lecture circuit? To teach what? How to fuck up the world in 10 easy lessons? ... Jesus! Oh, and speaking of Jesus, it’s “Blessed are the Peacemakers, asswipe!” And you think God’s gonna let you cry on his shoulder! If there is a God, I guarantee the first thing he’s gonna do when you get back to Crawford is whoop your ass, Texas-style. And if by some miracle, you do take the End Times ride to Heaven, I hope Molly Ivins does it, too! So in January of ’09, you can do the Nixon wave, climb on a chopper, and haul ass back to Texas but you’re goin’ alone, numbnuts! I’m not leavin’. I’m staying right here in the White House. Maybe the Democrats will adopt me if I promise not to eat Hillary’s cat. And if you try to take me, I’ll tell everyone how you, Karl, and Jeb stole the 2000 election. I heard it all, man. And I took notes. So do not screw with me!”

Oh, wait. That wasn’t Barney. That was Laura.

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