Satire: Bush's personal aid.

[razors edge]

Get to work by 5am.

Put training wheels back on Segway.

Remove all pictures of Democrats and horses from view.

Mix presidential morning bloody marry, double.

Lie to Babs on phone, he's busy right now...

Rouse Condi from Lincoln bedroom and sneak her out back door, again.

Read Chaney's orders to President, then explain them.

Check with fund raiser advance team, all checks cleared, all loyalty oaths signed, all protesters tased and video taped for later comic relief.

Hand off to SS for transport and sanity break. Check Monster dot com job prospects. Shred documents, erase e-mails, clean Barney's shit out of Presidential slippers, send geranimals and underoos to laundry, flush last nights puke down bide and clean up blood from nasty slip and fall, empty nine ashtrays. Berate Maria for taking so long with the other bedrooms and not getting here sooner.

Chill nine cases of Milwaukee's Best, start twelve racks of spare ribs on smoker, slip out to rose garden and smoke a splif.

Run into Gannon and Rove exiting remote conference room, again, and remind Jeff to put his shirt back on, again.

Pay Maria her twelve bucks and fire her for not properly dusting Saddam's pistol on the wall, call Merry-Maids, on speed dial, again.

Check Bolivian marching powder supply, (and quality) lay out tonights underoos and geranimals, load protesters DVD delivered from currier, also put up Hotel Rwanda in case president is in a joking mood and is looking for laughs, change batteries in Rove's remote mind control base unit near bed, Refill First Lady's prescription bottles with Canadian pills.

Help president from limo in basement, drunk, again, escort to close by private office for blood test to determine best anecdote, call info to Surgeon General and proceed to pump stomach, again, inject pre-dosed syringe labeled #16, monitor heart rate for seventeen minutes until back on feet.

Retire president to bedroom for reanimation, Bolivian blow working, escort to dinner in Mexicali room, order Taco Bell and give ribs to staff, I disappear and shotgun three Milwaukee's Best, finish off blow, for his own good.

Escort president back to bedroom, he requests I arrange viewing of Faces of Death part seventy-two, Baghdad Morgue Outtakes, I rush to retrieve from Rumsfeld's secret office only to find Kissinger and three street whores watching the only copy, he refuses to relinquish it over the pleading of the sickened street walkers, and I return with Abu-Ghraib part two, the hidden years.

I return to find the president on the phone to the First Lady who has not returned from her 9am tennis match with Hans, he informs me her car has broken down and she is being put up for the night by a nice farmer whom she asked for help. I put in the movie and before the credits finish ask to be dismissed due to a sore stomach, (never lie to the president) he wishes me a good night and relaxes back in his bedside recliner with a half gallon of Gentleman Jack, as I reach the door he says to me "I'm dooin the rawt thng in Urak donch ya thank? "You will go DOWN in history for it Mr President", I reply, never lie to the president.

Please help me Monster dot com.




Reposted as a reply to, http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=132x3383485

Not the funniest thing ever but the thread died, and damn it, I put allot of hate into it. :evilgrin: