POW! BAM! WHOOSH!

I hate reading blogs. I always wind up upset. Today was no different, and let me tell you I am terrified. I found out that Batman may be running for president. At this point I was shaking and I knew I had to calm down. I immediately sent Air Force one on a fritter run, and sat down to think. I realized that I would have to get myself out of this situation- I can’t trust anyone. Not with all the spooky occurrences going on here. I calmly took a bite out of my last fritter. (Damn it man, where is Air Force One!) I had to think this through. It was then I heard a load BAM! Followed by a loud WHOOSH! Then the oval office started to smell of burnt hair. Had Batman molotoved me in some preemptive strike? No, it was only, my faithful dog, Humpy. He had tried to Kevorlkian himself in the fireplace again. Silly puppy! When would he learn- death panels are for people, not puppies.

Well, after a quick change of underwear I was sitting back on the couch. What could I do. I suppose I could try to hire Iron Man, and hope for the best, but I don’t really trust Super Heroes- except Jebus. So I asked myself. “What would Jebus do?” I don’t know if anyone had tried this before, but it worked wonders for me. I thought the first thing he would do would be getting more fritters- after all Jebus was a Hebrew. Next I had the Marine Guy that opens my door for me get me a white tunic. I think Jebus was partial to those. Finally the Marine guy came back, but all he could find were white sheets. Drat- it would have to do. After I covered myself from neck to ankles with sheet, I noticed some odd stains on the sheets- Bubba must have slept over again…

As I sat there trying to figure out what to do next, I noticed that my head was cold. Those big old ears of mine radiate heat- my leaving the rest of my head cold. Luckily, the Marine Guy also grabbed the pillow cases. I cut eye holes in it and placed it on my head.

I was now appropriately attired, but still didn’t know what to do. I thought I’d go for a walk. Cheese and Crackers- I must have looked just like Jebus because people kept staring. Finally I bumped into Helen Thomas. She took one look at me and said, “Hey big sexy, I haven’t seen you here since Carter was in office.” I didn’t even know Helen was a Christian….

A haunting experience of presidents past

People often say the Whitehouse is haunted by ghosts- mostly Abe Lincoln. I haven't seen Lincoln yet, but I saw something pretty disturbing yesterday.

I set out looking for Bill Clinton- he still hangs out here quite a bit. I thought he might be able to help me with my Cheney situation. Usually when I need to find Bill, I head down to the intern pool. Since I needed to walk Humpy, I thought it would be a good time to take him for a drag. What I saw when I reached the intern pool shocked both Humpy and I.

Bill was lying there, almost naked. He was wearing only a red, white and blue pork pie hat and a Clinton/Gore 92 ankle bracelet. There was a rather porcine young lady licking peanut butter out of his belly button. She was dressed to look like Cookie the Clown . Stars and Stripes forever was blasting on the stereo. A second intern, dressed up as Wizzo the Wizard , was fanning Bill while also drizzling honey on his nipples. Bill had a Bozo the Clown wig on, under the pork pie hat. He kept on yelling "Guess what's in bucket number 6" while pointing at his genitals.

I have to tell you, this isn't what I thought I was getting myself into...

Urgent Fritter (fini)

Humpy was trying to tell me something. Thrust right, thrust right, thrust forward and thrust left. That means Tim is dead! I knew I needed to act, so I thought "What would MacGyver do?" He'd have T'ealc take Tim to a sarcophagus. No, wait wrong show... What would MacGyver do?

I knew now what to do- I sent Humpy to, ah, involve himself with the nearest police officer's leg. Then it was time for me to act. I grabbed the policeman's tazer. Who would have thought that a man dressed as an Arab in Tel Aviv would cause such a commotion by stealing a policeman's weapon? Fortunately, a bystander recognized Tim and yelled "That's Tim Geithner!", so no one interfered as I shot Tim with the tazer. My aim was off, and the two darts shot out and attached themselves to Tim's nipples. I pulled the trigger, and shocked Tim back to life.

By the time the commotion was over, the State Department had found us. We were quietly ushered back to the embassy, as Hillary berated us for infecting a friendly nation with the swine flu.

At least Tim is feeling better. He said that our adventure reminded him of "an average night in the village", whatever that means...

Come and knock on our door...

Hillary stopped by- and boy did things get out of hand.

Hillary started out by saying "Barry, listen carefully. I need your attention"

I thought that it must be important, so I put down my new Nintendo DSi and started to listen.

"The Taliban are 70 miles outside of Imamabad"

"Awesome!" I said.

"Excuse me?" said a flustered Hillary.

"If there was ever a people in dire need of cinnamon rolls, it the citizens of Islamabad. I've been there- they can really use some sweet, sweet, sugary goodness..."

Hillary was mad now. I wasn't sure why. Hillary continued, "I said Taliban, you douche. Not Cinabon."

I was about to ask her what the difference was, when she noticed a pair of panties peaking out of a planter. We usually find 2 or 3 a week. Strangely, W said he thought he had found them all midway through his second term. I knew that Bill was in for another savage beating. I feared that he could not withstand another head injury. It was then that I remembered something Bill tells me quite often. "Bros before hoes".

Just then Hillary shrieked "That rat-BASTARD!

"Wait Hillary- don't hurt Bill. The panties are mine."

"You son of a bitch. You aren't putting Michelle through what I-"

Still in a near panic, I cut her off. I had to convey that I would never cheat on Michelle. "No Hillary, they are mine- I wear the panties."

"That explains Geithner. Look dumbass, as a liberal I have to support your savage man love with Geithner. I don't have to like it, though. I'm going to take 10 minutes and clear my head. I'll grab the PowerPoint that explains to you what the difference between the Taliban and a Cinabon is- again. Please pay attention this time".

She left me, and I panicked. I stuck my head out the door and yelled "Geithner!" moments later he was in the Oval Office. I filled him in on what had happened, and we hatched a plan.

I instructed Tim to treat me affectionately whenever we were alone with Hillary. You know, a well placed pat on the shoulder, or to shake my hand for just a moment too long. This would be uncomfortable, but we had to take one for the team- the administration was counting on us. Geithner was strangely enthusiastic.

Well, things got weird when Hillary walked back in. Geithner literally jumped in my lap, while trying to unbuckle my pants, Geithner jammed his tongue in my mouth. I had sworn to myself that I would never find myself in a situation where Geithner's tongue was in my mouth (again) . As if this wasn't horrible enough- Humpy must have smelled something in the air. He crawled up to Hillary and mounted her meaty calf. Hillary was about ready to blow her top when the worst possible thing happened. Bill walked in.

"Hot DOG! It's a 90's style Oval Office par-tay!", said Bill. Then he noticed Hillary.

Hillary connected a solid roundhouse to Bills head. Fortunately, Humpy was flung off before she made contact. Unfortunately, he landed on Geithner neck where he, ah, finished up.

At least Humpy's attention got Geithner off my lap...

Of poodles and pirates...

"So, ahh, what is that thing..." Geithner asked as Humpy savagely
thrusted away at his leg. Tim didn't seem to mind all that much, except
that Humpy tends to vomit while "showing affection", as Michelle puts
it. Last night was chili night at the White House, so Humpy's stomach
was upset a little more than usual.

"It's my childhood pet, Spot, but everyone calls him 'Humpy'" I
answered.

"That's funny- that's my nickname at the public baths" stated Geithner-
an uncomfortable silence followed.

"I finally worked up the courage to ask Tim why he had come to see me, as
Humpy continued to work away at his leg.

"Well, I have bad news-" There was surprise. He continued "We found out
Captain Phillips is a 'Hard R'" A hard R is someone that voted in the
last three Republican primaries. Geithner continued on. "Hannity is
trying to get him on his TV show. It appears that he actually wants
credit for his bravery in standing up to the pirates. He also has this
weird expectation that the American government should be responsible for
the safety of it's citizens."

I couldn't believe that this lonely old sailor was trying to jump on my
bandwagon. I'm the one that told the SEaLs that they could open fire.
What did he do? Anyone can stand there with a gun in the back of their
head. I'll have to get Rahm on this- that guy can discredit anyone...

The story of me

You've probably heard by now. Sony and HBO are producing a movie about me, Barry O, the most important man in the universe.

I'll use this space to offer some input. I think the movie should be called "The Story of O". Can you think of a better name for a clean cut all American movie? Here's what I think the movie should focus on.

The true story of my youth:

• Dad never liked me- he chose to leave the country rather than be my father. Guess who's' laughing now! I'm the pres and that bastard is DEAD.
• My beloved pet, Humpy.
• My struggles in school. No matter how many times I failed, uh, English, I, uh, hung, uh, in there.

Barry as a Young man:

• My relationship with Jane Fonda.
• How I met Geithner
• How I met Michelle
• A brief explanation of what a community organizer actually does. When some one figures it out, please let me know.
• My first day in college- and my crush on professor Tish Manley.

My ascendancy to greatness:

• My time in the Illinois Senate. This will be short, I didn't actually do anything,
• My Time in the U.S. Senate. Ditto
• My glorious 8 years as leader of the free world.

A boy and his dog

Now that the girls are close to getting a dog, I thought I'd share the story of my first dog.

I was only 9 years old. So young. So full of promise. So lazy. Toot (my grandma) thought that a pet could teach me responsibility. We agreed that a dog was the way to go.

I knew exactly what kind of dog I wanted. Really, it was the same kind of dog any boy wants. Brave. Strong. Masculine. I took this all into account and went to Toot. "Toot, I want a poodle". Well she laughed and laughed, finally saying "No really, what kind of dog do you want?" I reiterated that I wanted a miniature poodle. She shook her head and said okay. I think part of her died that day...

So the next day, Toot comes home with a completely white miniature poodle. I thought for a moment- what is the perfect name for a spotless white poodle. Spot, of course! I knew that spot and I would become great friends.

Toots never liked the name spot. She said we should call him "Humpy". I never got that reference. Anyhow, we played all day, and went to bed exhausted. I awoke the next morning, feeling little wet pats on my cheek. I thought to myself that every boy should be so lucky as to awake to his new best friends soft doggie kisses in the morning. I kept my eyes closed and enjoyed Spots affection for a moment longer.

When I finally opened my eyes, I was horrified to see little doggie hips repeatedly thrusting toward me. "Cheese and Crackers!" I thought "that pink thing hitting me in the face isn't spot's tongue!"

That's how I woke up everyday for the next 4 months, until Toot accidentally ran over Spot. I still can't figure out why she parked in the middle of the back yard that day, or the tire tracks all over the back yard...