Note: We here at The Daily Growler have done quite a bit of editing to our new Chancellor’s attempt at writing a brief autobiographical statement—thank de Lard that We the People provide him with a battery of writers, editors, copygirls, and his own secretary, office advisory staff, Mac operator, Booze Allen security guard, and a Booze Allen information hacker—and by “editing” we really mean “cutting” as though with a hacksaw. We cut a lot of prattling, bragging, talk about when he was a teenager, 3rd grade reporting, you know, “Pinched little Sally Stoogemeir’s ass today. Said she was goin’ to tell old Mammy Babs, but I said I’d tie her up and put her in the trunk of my Corvette if she did. Mammy Babs didn’t teach me much about sex; I got all that from Cousin Lauren. Oooh, boy, what I could tell you ‘bout….” You see what we mean. Like Chicago’s being called the Windy City not because of the wind off Lake Michigan, hellish wind, too, but because of the Chicago lobbying group for the Columbian Exposition of 1892 who spieled out so much “wind” in their attempt to get Chicago designated as the fair town. Meanwhile, back at the faux ranch:
So you all are still interested in my Iraq plans. Now I’ve talked all this over with my study groups—Jimmy Baker goes way back with me and the Bushes—I got some shit on him—did you all forget that my old Pappy was once head of the CIA? Think about that, folks. My old Pappy was as nosey as old J. Edgar Hoover, who they now say was as queer as he was homo, wearing dresses and livin’ with a man named Chester for 40 years. Man, what a gay ole time those two must’a had. Wonder if “blow” to them meant then what it means to me now? Ooh my Lawdy-Lard I could use a row or two…. Sorry. You see, I have trouble with this bio shit because I’m such an honest man. Mammy Babs taught me one thing…. [Again we had to get the hacksaw out; Georgie Porgie was heading up Mammy Babs Boulevard again and you don’t want to hear all that mommy’s boy whining he does when he starts babbling about his Mammy Babs.]
Iraq is a mishmash of hell-raising terrerists whose ultimate aim, I truly believe this and I believe Gawd believes it, too—or does Gawd believe? He is the answer, ain’t he? So if he’s the answer then what the hell does he believe if he believes? [Here again it’s hacksaw time.]
I could tell you all about how dirty, disrespectful, wily, foreboding, make ‘em grin and you can spot ‘em, as I used to hear Pappy and Mammy Babs talking about the Neeegrow help we always had around the house in Houston. I’m winking right now, ‘cause you all know Little Georgie Porgie got him some of “dat” stuff. Heh-heh. Reminds me of this time me and a boy named Earl went out to Ethiopiatown down in Houston and we…. [Hacksaw inserted] I’m talking about Mooslims, or A-rabbs as you call ‘em here in Tennessee, or at least down in Texas we call ‘em like we see ‘em, towelheads is all right with me. I just don’t trust ‘em and hell I know ‘em; I mean, Prince Bandar Bush is like a brother to me, moreso than that F-ing Jeb. God-damn, my Pappy loves that boy. Jeb this and Jeb that and Jeb’s gonna be next. President that is. And I say, Oh yeah, not if I get done what I got planned in Iraq and Iran and Syria and Somalia and all them heathen sons a bitch countries. It's war, folks, and I'm the boss, I'm the commander in chief, I'm the decider. Why I’m gonna set this world in such turmoil they’ll be crawling to me asking me to bail ‘em out and I’m gonna say where were you when the Colon Issues of the Willing were sacrificing for your liberal, bloody F-ing Atheistic, communistic, socialistic, son of a bitchin’ asses, so you could go around claiming I only got a 31% approval rating. Hell, at least that’s a third. That’s more’n old Kerry and Bore-Gore got—I whacked their asses good, a mandate in both elections. Supreme Court says I won fair and square. So F all you all if you say I was never honestly elected. You goin' to tell me the Supreme Court is dishonest? I knew I won in Florida in 2000 when that son of a bitch Dan Rather was predictin’ his liberal ass-kissing pal Al Gore was gonna win the great state of Florida. But they forgot, we Bushes own Florida, too, so as long as my brother was governor of Florida I knew I wasn't losing it. Heh-heh. I got you all on that one. What do you think of that Kathleen Harris? Come on, now. Sometimes I think about cheatin’ on Pickles—but I never have; sex isn’t one of the things I worry about, I don’t spend much time on the subject, though Kenny Boy Foley could get me pretty perked up with some of his stories about skin-fluting some choice young hairless-boy pages that’r always hanging around the Capitol Building. I’m gonna have to get Pat Robertson in here to exorcise this joint if we don’t quit all this silliness on that damn Internet. Computers and me just ain’t compatible, folks, I gotta tell you that. Speaking of “I gotta tell ya,” did I ever tell you about meetin’ ole Bob Hope with my grandpappy one time? [Again, the hacksaw is out.]
So here's the scoop on Iraq. I came up with this. Brigades. That's right. Brigades of 1,000 US dog soldiers along with some Iraq forces, the ones we can trust--I know, I know, you can't trust a towelhead no matter, but no matter, this is goin' to work. I'm goin' to place one of these brigades in every damn neighborhood in Baghdad. See where I'm going with this? How about door-to-door? You god-damn right, door-to-F-ing-door, kick 'em in if they have to, and, by God, we'll drive every towelhead out of their homes, I don't give a damn, men, women, children, grandma, grandpa, I don't give a shit, rout 'em out and make 'em take a pledge of allegiance to the United States of America, er-ah, heh-heh, of course, I mean pledging allegiance to the Iraq Constitution--which I helped write, by the way, did anybody know that?
I am puffed up with pride coming up with this brigade idea. Johnny Boy Negroponte had his Shining Path; I'm gonna have my Thousand Points of Light Brigades. Wow, I bet old Pappy's proud of me right now. So what I've only got 31% approval rating; so what nobody wants anything to do with this. This is mine, dammit! My plan for victory. My old Pappy won the Gulf War but he didn't carry right on down the throats of these bastards like I'm doing. One might could say like they say in Tennessee, well, anyway, they say it down in Texas, I'm taking Pappy's win one step further. My victory in Iraq is a victory in the world. We are at war and, by God, I intend to stay the course and be coarse and of course I'll be victorious. Laurel leaves will be place around my head like I saw they did to Caesar in a book I almost read to them like burrheads down in Florida during 9/11, My Pet Goat, though I almost read this little Caesar book to them instead. Well, hell, My Pet Goat was tough enough and I knew I should stop reading and take care of the country being under attack, but hell, just like in Iraq, I stayed the course on My Pet Goat and got it read by God and then we ran like M-F-ers out of Florida. I had 'em fly me straight to SAC headquarters in Omaha, god dammit, as far from Washington as I could get, by God. I was the president. I had to be protected. Damn Unka Dick was in his damn bunker in Celestial Mountain over there in Virginia. What right's Unka Dick got to have a bunker. I think my old Pappy gave it to him. Jesus, Unka Dick's been around since Ronnie Raygun's administration. Amazing man. Has had 5 major heart attacks yet he stays the course like I stay the course.
I love baseball. Y'all know that. Pappy was a baseball player at Yale. They said he was pro material, though I can't imagine Pappy in a dugout full of old tobacco-chewing millhands and shit workers like that? Like, you know, my time with the Texas Rangers. That's right. They thought they were a losing ball team before I got 'em bought for me! I showed those clodhopppers; I broke the team buying that asshole A-Rod. But then I got back in good graces with my backers when I eminent-domained enough great land in Arlington to build that new stadium that they were gonna call George W. Bush Stadium, Kenny Boy Lay came up with that name. Then, to show you I didn't sleep all the way through Yale Business School, I schemed it where the City of Arlington got stuck with the costs. I almost broke that whole damn town. Breaking things is my speciality. If they ain't broke, I'll break 'em god-dammit.
So back to this Iraq thing. I'm talking tough shit 'cause that's all these towelhead peckerheads understand. We speak the same language since we're all after the same thing, oil and power. That's all you need, folks; you wanna get rich quick, steal some oil. I've stolen millions of barrels of oil from Iraq since my forces locked down that oilfield the first day they were in Iraq. F-ing A, unlike my F-ing old Pappy, I got things done and kicked some ass into Baghdad. Ran ole Sad-damn right down a hole, like Alice in Wonderland. Mammy Babs read me that book when I was 14 or so 'fore I went beddie-bye.
My goal in Iraq is to bring the people of Iraq, towelheads or whatever--I think some of 'em are called Turds, believe it or not. I kid you not. The Turds. They're our friends. I got a lot'a turds for friends, believe me. But I just wanna bring those folks the same freedoms we enjoy here in the US of A. The freedom to give me the right to dictate my feelings to the world. The world, dammit, the New World Order. Any of you all ever read my ole Pappy's "New World Order" speech. He said it all in that. It was too much for me to read but Unka Dick read it to me right 'fore he got right smack-dab in bed with me and Pickles, that old pervert. Whooo, boy, and there's a hell of a lot'a perverts around here. [We just turned the hacksaw on ourselves...no more of this...no more of Chancellor Bush.]
thedailygrowlerstaff [allen the boozer]
for The Daily Growler