The State of the Union
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From: Peter Langston <psl>
Date: Mon, 2 Mar 98 01:58:36 -0800
Subject: The State of the Union
Forwarded-by: Holzwoman <Holzwoman@aol.com>
"Members of Congress, Citizens of America, Office of the Special Prosecutor
and Independent Council, members of the Press...
I banged her. Like a cheap gong...
Which is not news, folks, because Monica never played the flute solo in my
libidinal orchestra. The only babes in D.C. I haven't tried to diddle are:
Hillary, Albright, and Shalala, mostly because they're evil and have legs
stolen from massive nine-foot Steinway concert grands.
Which isn't to say I don't appreciate Hillary. I do. If not for the
ice-water coursing through her veins, I'd be pumping gas into farm equipment
in Hope, Arkansas, and she'd be married to the President.
So, let me set the record straight. I dodged the draft, hid FBI files,
smoked dope, flipped Whitewater property, set up a new Korean wing in the
White House, fired the travel staff, paid hush money to Webster, sold the
Lincoln bedroom like an upscale Motel 6, and made pocket pinball the game
of choice in the Oval Office. Got it? Good.
Six years ago, there's not a man, woman, or child who didn't know I was a
10th degree horndog. But, you elected Mr. Fellatio President, anyway, which
turned out to be a good move on your part. Your other choice was Bush, an
aging yuppie moron who thought he could bomb his way into the White House.
Before him, it was Reagan who left office with the same Alzheimer's he came
with. There was Carter before him who brought you a 17% prime interest
rate, smiling the whole time, like the idiot savant he is. Nixon before
that coined, but never really understood, the concept of 'plausible
deniability', and got a one-way First Class ticket to San Clemente and
several decent book deals. Johnson was an inbred power-mad war criminal.
And John Kennedy, who took more than a few shake breaks himself behind
closed doors, didn't hang around long enough for America to spot that
curious atavistic tic for beaver-wrestling shared by at least a dozen former
residents of the White House.
Which brings me back to me, and the point. Since I have been strumming the
banjo here, government is doing more for less. The budget is balanced first
time since my sausage-mate, JFK, did a one gun salute to Marilyn, a fact
the press didn't seem to notice, mostly because they weren't looking.
Unemployment is so low today a blind felon can get a job as a
night-watchman. And, the stock market is higher than a D-student on a full
gram of dumb-dust, and anyone with a degree from a junior college who can
spell 'software' has enough money to ponder the annual maintenance cost of
his boat, instead of where the next meal is coming from.
Bottom line: I'm running a government here, not a dating school, and I've
done it with my pecker showing. What I'm asking for is your support, not
a date with your daughter, unless, of course, she's a babe with thin ankles,
and then I'd like to discuss it.
In the meantime, think about where you are today, what kind of life you're
living, and before you get too interested in which way my dong points, ask
yourselves this question, 'Just what was it you hired me to do?'"
© 1998 Peter Langston