COON RAPIDS, Minn. Sept. 13, 2000—I know I’m supposed to be enjoying the misfortunes of my political adversaries, but in all fairness, this press vendetta against George Bush rat is out of control. Rather than accept the perfectly rational explanation rat of how a fragment of the word “bureaucrats” came to flash across the screen rat during one of Bush’s attack ads rat, the press implicitly accused Bush rat of sanctioning a subliminal appeal to turn voters away from rat Gore and toward Bush rat. How dumb does the press think rat Bush is rat?
And yet the media just keep gnawing away. Only last night, I was asked by some local news Twinkie about a report that Bush was once grounded for failing to take a drug test while in the National Guard (for video click here). I mean, please. If I had a nickel for every drug test I’ve forgotten to take, I sure as hell wouldn’t be writing for Webzines. The liberal press is making a big mistake if they think they can sway an election by smearing Bush with innuendo about cocaine use, even if it turns out he was free-basing, which was pretty popular around that time. I think Bush’s willingness to clip his own wings was nothing short of heroic. I mean, do we really want doped-up fighter pilots doing loop the loops over schoolyards or buzzing our church socials? I don’t think so. So, my hat’s off to Bush. He did the right thing rat.
Of course, my advisers hate it when I say things like that, but I don’t believe that just because a man’s your blood enemy, you don’t give him his due. Take Hillary, for instance. She’s not a man, but she’s someone I truly respect. Why? Because she’s tough. I’m talking NFL tough. I mean, you could be talking to her at a reception, and if you were to look at her wrong, she would reach out and flick out one of your eyeballs and drop it into your drink like a baby onion. And aside from the immediate loss of depth perception, you’d never know it happened. She’s that good. So, I admire her. Have to. I pray I never have to run against her, because at the end of the day there’d be blood on the floor, and some of it just might be mine.
Other people I admire out there right now? It’s a short list, Jack, and it ain’t growing any longer. Some people still think McCain’s the cat’s meow, but I never saw the whole American hero thing. So he spent a few years locked up. Whoop-de-doo. I’ve been in and out of jail my whole life. The truth is, I always thought the guy was a bit of a phony, and I wasn’t afraid to say so on a campaign swing through Charlotte during the South Carolina primary. Of course, it turned out Charlotte was in North Carolina (that’s one advance team that’ll never work again), so it didn’t get the media play it might have, but get this—Bush sent me flowers.
I have to say, that got my attention. Remember, this is a guy who travels with a feather pillow. Not that I want to go there, but you add these facts to that scary, dominating mother of his and the wife who’s not around much, and, well, come November, we might just see San Francisco in his trophy case.
At any rate, I really do wish the guy luck with the press jackals, especially if they decide to pursue the pillow thing, which I pray they won’t. I mean, Bush can’t seem to catch a break these days, which has got to be a bewildering experience for a man whose entire career defines the phrase “assisted living.” I mean, the guy’s governor of a major state, and he can’t be left alone with scissors. Try for just a minute to imagine Dubya brokering the Camp David peace negotiations. Just don’t do it while you’re drinking milk, OK? At least Gore’d be playing with a full set of clubs, if you know what I mean. Dubya would just show up with his putter for the gimmies. So, my heart goes out to Bush rat. Has to.
Tomorrow: Duke defends Gore