It started out as a nice day. Then Joe Biden showed up with the beer. I
had given him a very specific list, including Blue Moon. I would have
preferred Goose Island, but I can't get that in DC. Anyway Biden shows
up with Pabst Blue Ribbon. Unbelievably, that's not even the worst part.
I handed Joe a one hundred dollar bill, and he brings back a 12 pack of
PBR and 6 bucks in change. Incredible!
So Joe, humpy, and I are sitting around waiting for our guests, and we
each grab a beer. I was sitting Downwind of Joe, and let's just say that
a rather foul wind blows in my direction. Joe starts fanning the air in
front of his face and blames humpy, except that I know that it's not
Humpy because he is sharing his affection on a chair cushion, next to
me, also downwind of Joe. Anyway, I let it slide.
After about an hour Our guest showed up. Dr Gates and that filthy racist
cop guy. I'm going to be honest. I wasn't too sure about the smelly cop.
So, we all sit down and start "enjoying" the PBR's. We were sitting
around talking about pro wrestling- typical gut stuff, when Hillary
walks in.
Gates Jumps out of his chair and starts shaking Hillary's hand.
"Madam, it is my honor to be graced with the presence of the wife of the
countries first black president", say Gates. I haven't said anything,
I'm in complete shock. Then Biden chimes in- "Yep- Clinton was the man."
Now Gates doesn't miss a beat. He goes on and on. "Your husband has done
more for my people than any single man who has ever lived."
I have to say something now. "Hello- Barack here, a REAL black
president." Gates ignores me and continues.
"I may even say that he is the Black Messiah!" Now I'm really mad.
Newsweek said I was the Messiah!
The worse part is Joe is horribly flatulent now. He lets one rip, while
he standing next to me. He takes a step away from me while fanning his
nose and blames me now. Hillary comes back with "There goes Barry,
talking out his ass again." and everyone starts laughing.
I went in after that and had a good crying spell. I deserved it.
I got to thinking. It doesn't take an idiot to realize that any contact
between Uranus and Dick would be catastrophic. So, I propose that we
wrap dick in latex to protect him. God forbid that any contact between
Dick and Uranus results in penetration, but if it does, this should keep
the former VP clean.
I tried to call Bruce Willis, the star of Armageddon, with this. After I
got him on the phone, he became really agitated when I asked him to help
save my Dick (hey, we are all in this together) from Uranus. He just
yelled about his taxes and how my Dick was already in his anus, and
hung up. I'm not sure about how that was relevant.
I thought long and hard, but I was coming up blank. Then I overheard Tim
Geithner while he was on the phone. He was complaining about catching
something called "the clap" in a men's room. I don't know what that
means, but I know that public restrooms benefit everyone in many
wondrous ways. So what could I do?
A crapper bailout. Massive public funds for public restrooms. I call it
the "Claptrap for Crappers" program. We'll have pins paraphrasing the
immortal Mike Ditka, saying "Who ya crappin?" Who am I crappin'? I'm
crappin' Iron Mike and everyone else.
I feel my approval ratings hitting the toilet was a message from God. My
legacy is in the crapper, and it is through the crapper that the Obama
administration shall be delivered.
Okay- Michelle is going to be really angry now. I got caught twice today. And what's the worst part about this? Sarkosy is looking at me again.
What the hell? Every time a hottie bends over in front of us, he's staring at me.
I'm really uncomfortable now...
The real problem here, isnt so much that I was about to swat Mayora Taveras on the bum (I'm a Democrat and we get away with that sort of thing), it's that she is only 16. That and I think Sarkozy may have been checking me out...
Anyhow, please add your own caption in the remarks.
Ciao!
I dreamt that I was living in a land where the only tax was this thing
called a "fair tax". It's like the sales tax I want to use to fund
healthcare, only it would REPLACE THE INCOME TAX. I still shudder
thinking about it. This was a strange and horrible place that I was
dreaming of. The Unites States was the worlds sole Hyperpower, instead
of one of a dozen of so equals throughout the world. That's just not
good for our friends over seas in Venezuela or China or Iran. Creepy.
Finally, we had a medical insurance system that gave Americans the best
healthcare in the world. People could actually be scheduled for
emergency surgery, immediately. What a nightmare!
Well, good thing my staff and I are working hard to ensure that this
remains a horrible nightmare, and not the worlds most prosperous nation!
1. Did you know that I know where Osama is? Yep, I've known all along- I
just looked at the return address on his campaign contributions!
2. Did you know that I own a car company? (Yea! We all own a car
company!)
3. Did you know that my genitals have permanently shrunk? Extremely low
testosterone is why I won't confront Hugo Chavez. Ahhh, Hugo. Now
there's a guy a pair THIS BIG!
4. Did you know that Humpy is my best friend?
5. Did you know that Britt Hume once spit on me?
6. Did you know that I buy my suits second hand, from a funeral home?
7. Did you know that Katie Couric once grabbed my buttocks after an
interview?
8. Did you know that I wish I had picked Sarah Palin as my running mate?
9. Did you know I discovered Joe Biden after he had dug through my
trash, and he was licking an old Taco Bell wrapper?
10. Did you know I once had sexual intercourse?
There you have it- whether you wanted it or not!
Anyway, he was sweating even worse than normal today. He was wearing an
army helmet and what appeared to be an accessorizing vest. He said I had
to save the world from the climate Nazi's. This intrigued me, as newly
crowned king of the world, I thought I should know about any problems
with those bastard Nazi's. To quote a great man "Nazi's? I hate those
guys!"
So Gore goes on to tell me where all the Nazi's are. "They are hiding in
our factories, and in our schools. They are killing us as we speak."
Well that caused me to scream. The Secret Service burst in asked where
the woman in distress was. I said I was in distress. They just shook
their head and said something about spending too much time with
Geithner. Then things got worse when Gore started consoling me. He said
I sounded "almost like a man" when I screamed. Not the way I wanted to
spend my day.
Al went on to say that we needed massive cuts in carbon emissions. He
also said we needed a Manhattan project. If memory serves, the idea
behind the Manhattan project was to kill a bunch of foreigners. I asked
if that would help this time. Al said no- "the enemy is the United
States." Cheese and crackers! I couldn't order a nuclear strike on the
United States, could I?
"Barry, how you are doing? In Soviet Russia we are doing goodly!", said
my old pal Dmitry.
"We are doing well, you big old cuddly bear!" I said as we exchanged
what Rahm calls "Euro-fag kisses".
"The world. It is a dangerous place, with all that happens in the wake
of the Kings death..."said Dmitry. Curiously, as soon as he mentioned
Michael Jackson a buzzer went off, and the GRU agent standing next to
Dmitry hit him with what looked to be a sock filled with a couple of
rolls of quarters. It landed with a mushy sounding plunk atop Dmitry's
head. You could tell he was getting used to this- it barely phased him.
"You see", said an embarrassed Dmitry "Vlad Putin still has some use for
American currency. We must not speak of the current troubles in the
open."
I was ushered into my limousine. Rahm and CIA guy were already waiting.
"Barry-" sad Rahm "you have to stay focused- we can't have you messing
this up, like you did with Angela Merkel." That brought back some un
pleasant memories. I still can't believe that Bill Clinton convinced me
that a slap on the bottom was the customary German greeting for foreign
dignitaries. "Rahm-" I said, "I a can promise you I won't be slapping
Putin's bottom today." I think CIA guy was relieved, because he started
laughing.
"Look you Moron", said CIA guy. I looked behind me but couldn't find the
moron. To bad. Morons are funny. "Take this." He handed me a small fish-
like in those Douglass Adams books. I immediately realized that it was a
Babel fish and would allow me to understand foreign languages. I
excitedly jammed the fish in my ear. It was to big, but I figured the
fish knew what it was supposed to do. It was then I noticed everyone was
looking at me funny. "Barry," said Rahm "Why did you kill the gift that
we were going to give Putin?"
As I looked down at what was left of the fish, I realized that I had
made a mistake. Oh well, I put the fish back in the bag and looked for
something to wipe my hands (and face) with.
CIA guy was getting used to life in the west wing and didn't complain
about the fish. He continued to stare at me and said. "Let me do the
talking. Don't speak unless I give you the signal. I'll twitch my right
finger. Otherwise, don't interject.
We pulled up at Putin's dacha- it was a huge onion domed castle. Russian
troops were everywhere. They must have all been fans- they were all
staring at me just like the CIA guy. As the limo pulled through the
gate, and drove under the huge hammer and sickle affixed to a "victory
gate", I felt truly at home.
We exited the car and were led to a large room. A huge mahogany table
took up the middle of the room. Putin was sitting on a golden throne,
which itself was sitting upon a golden platform some 16 feet in the air.
Medvedev sat at his side- on the floor. Putin towered a good 14 feet
over Dmitry- who was wearing a ball gag. Geithner saw this and started
to sweat for some reason. We all took our seats which were low to the
ground- how nice of Vlad to think about Rahm's bad knees! The table came
up to our necks, and Vlad rested his feet on the end of the table
opposite of us.
Vlad just stared at us for a good five minutes. He was surrounded by
three men in fezzes- they looked like shriners. As we all sat in
silence, you could see that Rahm and Geithner were awed by the spectacle
of the throne room. CIA guy broke the silence by spitting on the table.
This seemed to amuse Vlad, he started laughing- and so did CIA guy.
"Brad, old friend it is good to see you!" boomed Vlad's voice over some
kind of amplifier. "We have much to speak of- including of why you have
made my room smell of fish."
"That we do Vlad, as for the fish..." CIA guy jerked a thumb at me. "You
know how it is..." they both then started to laugh and point at Dmitri
and me. They were then back to business. "You know, if you continue to
supply your shriner friends with nukes, we'll match you one for one with
our gifts to the Knights. We won't allow you to install a new king..."
"Yes, of this I have been thinking. We must agree to a new king, so that
this will never happen again."
"He'd have to be utterly malleable," said CIA guy.
"And none too smart", said Vlad
"Telegenic" said CIA guy.
"With absolutely no backbone whatsoever..." stated Vlad
At this point everyone in the room was looking at me. Yea me! I'm king
of the world!!!
