|Blogs > sparkee58 > The Cunning Linguist|
junior's notebook ...entry 1
junior's notebook ...entry 1
Condi wants me to start writing in this notebook. "Write something for posterity," she said.
"Can I write about your posterity? In those sweatpants?" I asked her as we rode side by side stationary bikes.
"Shhhh. Mr. President," she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.
Heck, I don't know what to say. The notebook has got this white paper with red lines and holes and a stretched out slinky holding it together.
Let me see.
Had to ride on Air Force One all the way across one of the oceans to see pooty- poot Putin. That's a lot of water. How can you possibly poison something so big? And I didn't see much soul in his eyes this time. Dissin' the vp like that. Lucky for him I didn't bring my homey. But then, he's used to staying behind. Got more important things to do. Got trouble. That'll be deadeye Dick at the back of the line, looking for an angle to make money off it. Yes sir, he's a capitalist's capitalist. Hell, we're supplying arms for all sides. money is raining down like Hezbolla rockets.
That Putin. He thinks just because he has all these old nuclar missiles on hair-trigger alert pointing at US cities that he is a major player. I'll smoke you out, Putin. I'll leave Moscow a smoldering ruin. You got the bomb.
Bring it on.
And Condi scolding that Russian ambassador. You go, be-yuch. Oil tanker, hell. I'm going to name an aircraft carrier after you. I know where your allegiance lies.
The Middle East has blown up just like we wanted.
Soon the rapture will come and we'll all be whisked to heaven. Sorry, Condi. I think Laura's going to make it. But after we get there, we'll make some changes.
I felt kind of sorry for those naacp members so I decided to finally talk to them. Or rather turd blossom decided. You got to love Rove's twisted sense of humor.
"You don't have the cojones to get up in front of them after leaving them to drown like wet rats," he said.
"You just watch."
"Uh, do you think they get into heaven?"
"Who, Mr. President?"
"Of course they do, sir. Who do you think serves the drinks?"
"You mean I can drink in heaven?"
And I went to that meeting and it was like I was looking into the cramped hold of a slave ship. I told them how Lincoln was a republican and he even bought every slave outright and how really the party owned them. They hadn't read the fine print. Some negroes don't know this. After that bit of info seeps in through that black brillo we'll have them in our clutches just like the fundamentalist christians. It was really devious how we passed legislation right before the '04 elections that said anybody on our Texas-sized voter purge lists could vote on a provisional ballot. But we didn't make it the law to count them. Can you say coup-de-ta. That word just rolls off my tongue, like dead or alive, or, smoke 'em out.
You got to love that Jesus. And the stories go right to that special place in my heart beside my first oil well, and my first execution as governor. Pissed me off at first; I wanted to push the button or pull the lever or whatever. Thinking about that always gave me a boner, Condi. Kind of like watching your face scrunch up when you're on the weight machine. And I know you're probably thinking about the pygmy man in North Korea. Thinks he's a badass, too. Just because he showed he could wipe out all US forces in South Korea in the blink of an eye, I'm supposed to be impressed. He has no idea about how we feel about sacrificing pawns, does he?
Yea. That Jesus. Or Hezooz, as our little brown skinned brothers call him. I love the stories in the Bush family Bible.
Turns the wine into water.
Takes away the fish and loaves from the hungry people.
The meek shall inherit what's left of the earth.
Simple, easy to understand stories, like that book "My Pet Goat." You know as they whisked me across the counrty that day, 9-11, hiding from bin laden, I finally finished it. So something good did come from that day.
Not hiding hiding.
Well, got to go for now. Got to meet with the CIA director to get the daily briefing. Rove hands it to him in the other room as he steps in.
I'll write here again, I promise.
At least once a week.
And read my lips, no more wars.
At least until after the midterms.
Have I ever lied to you?
7/21/2006 12:44 pm
You are a friggin' genius.|
Yeah, I'm still [blog 1hotwahine]
7/21/2006 7:08 pm
7/21/2006 9:59 pm
then again...You have.|
7/23/2006 10:32 am
I will be sure to be back for more Junior chronicles |
7/24/2006 10:28 am
i think you managed to get inside the little bit of mind there is...|