’Much to tell you about. Fat Karl Rove has gained new admiration this week among all the practical jokers in the Monkey Palace for his sense of humor. Last week in a speech at Washington College in Chestertown, Maryland, way out in the boonies east of DC, he called Chimpanzee Bush an “intellectual.” My Secret Service source later told me that this generated huge amusement among all the staff present. In support of this outlandish claim, Fat Karl also said to his audience at the college that Bush “keeps a book always on his night stand.” It seems he was futilely trying to impress the crowd of B-level students and local chicken farmers, and to defend his adored idol from persistent reports that Bush has less than the IQ of a Maryland Eastern Shore Leghorn, and that he reads absolutely nothing any more.
Apart from everyone asking each other, to the accompaniment of knowing smiles and giggles, just how Fat Karl the Eunuch got to be so familiar with the Chimpanzee’s bedroom fixtures, those who have seen it say that the very same book has been sitting there on the nightstand for almost six months now – a hardcover copy of Danielle Steel’s trashy novel “Lone Eagle.” The staff believe Bush has never actually read it – his reading skills were always known to be pretty bad, and are rumored to have actually declined recently due to all the psychotropic drugs he is taking, (his handlers won’t allow him into any unscripted situations any more,) but the staff think he just keeps the book there next to his bed because he identifies in some pathetically grandiose way with the title.
Rumors have been circulating recently, accompanied by photos of the lesion on his left cheek, that Bush has skin cancer. I have not been able to confirm whether this is a fact or just rumor, but I know that Bush, who struggles constantly with his undeveloped childish “miraculous” mindset, is obsessed by the coincidence that every American president starting with Lincoln in 1860, who has been elected every 20 years, has died or been assassinated while in office. The only one to escape this “curse” was Reagan who was elected in 1980, but he was shot and almost died as a result. Bush has an extreme fear of pain and blind terror of death, which partly accounts for the extraordinary level of security surrounding him. Bush never looks at any of the photos coming out of Iraq and never attends any funerals if he can avoid them. The report I heard is that Rove’s words of comfort to the quivering coward were that Bush was never really elected in 2000 anyway, so if anyone is going to die soon, it will surely be Al Gore.
I suspect, after reading the book “Bush On The Couch,” by DC psychiatrist Justin Franks, that the reasons for this terror have to do with his childhood. When G. W. Bush was six years old in Texas, his 3-year-old baby sister died of leukemia in hospital in New York. Papa George H. W. Bush and Barbara went golfing the next day, then flew back to Texas, and only then told young George that his sister had been sick for many months and was now stone cold dead and would not be coming home. The baby girl was later interred in a family plot in Connecticut with nobody in attendance. This is how our young President first learned to deal with bereavement, tragedy and death. As a result, his mind and soul seem to be a cold, dark and twisted shadow world of irrational fear and suppression of human feelings. Fat Karl and his minions try their best to insulate Bush from the fact that he is the most hated man in the world today, but his recent jeering and booing by the masses in Rome, then seeing the Pope’s dead body laying there (those Vatican embalmers did a crappy job – the Pope looked terrible) and realizing that even the mighty will die some day, have left him gibbering with terror and scared shitless.
By the way, the rest of his family does not really like George W. Bush. His father was deeply disappointed for years in his drinking and drug use, which he saw as a lack of backbone, (remember how HE dealt with the death of his own child,) and really had his hopes pinned on Brother Jeb. Long-time staff around here have told me they remember how during his father’s presidency W. got drunk during a state dinner and went out into the hall of the White House and urinated against the wall. How could they ever forget? They had to sponge it off. Papa Bush was stunned when the Republican machine selected W. as the one they could control, and nominated him for the Presidency. His motormouth crack after the Iraq invasion (his mouth works much faster than his brain – you must have noticed) about “guidance from a higher Father” did not help endear him to Bush 41, either.
Do any of your readers pay tax? I am waiting with keen delight to see what gossip will emerge from Ariel Sharon’s coming visit with the Nutcase-In-Chief at his ranch in Texas. This week, Ha’aretz reported that Dov Weissglass, (Sharon’s equivalent of Karl Rove,) sent up a trial balloon saying that Sharon intends to ask Bush for an extra $10 billion in American aid above what we ALREADY give them. I can’t wait to see how Bush, Rove, Card, and McClellan will spin that particular outrage for the American taxpayer. Maybe that’s Sharon’s price for NOT attacking Iran and sending us all up shit creek in a leaky canoe. Will Sharon show Jellyfish Bush a couple of gory photos of Jerusalem bus bombings and get him to agree to everything the Israeli Butcher wants? Stay tuned – you may be certain that next month my ears will be flapping like Old Glory in a hurricane.
Meanwhile, the White House Press Corps is delighted that their colleagues at TIME magazine, remembering Ann Coulter’s gratuitous “that old Arab” insult against the dear lady Helen Thomas, finally conned the transsexual drag queen, (a.k.a. Arthur Coltrane of Pickens County, Georgia, former scion, before his sex-change operation, of an old Southern hog-farming family – everyone will notice how, since I revealed this fact to your readers, Coulter has suddenly begun going extra easy on homosexuals, even defending the sleazy male hooker Gannon/Guckert, late of the White House Press Corps, the Marine Corps, the Hard Corps, and practically every other member of the “body politic,”) as I was saying, they conned her into doing an interview, and plastered a joke photo of “her” all over the front cover of TIME for all the world to see. After seeing the picture, Bush, who is well known for his brilliantly cruel nicknames for those he wants to psychologically intimidate, has taken to referring to Ann Coulter as “Grasshopper” among members of his Cabinet.
This name-calling particularly amused Secretary Congoleeza Rice, who has a special dislike of Ann/Arthur Coulter, due to the fact that Coulter tries to “pass” not only as a normal heterosexual, and also as a woman, but also as white, while in fact Coulter’s great-great-great-grandmother was a house negro for the Coltrane family. She was freed from slavery in Pickens County in 1845 with two good-bye presents, a dozen hogs and a half-white boy baby, which is how this branch of the Coltrane family acquired their name and their business. This makes Ann/Arthur’s mother Darlene Coltrane an octoroon, and Ann/Arthur herself what Condoleeza would refer to as a “high yellow” African-American. If all this history is too complicated for your readers to follow, just calling Ann Coulter “Grasshopper” from now on will suffice admirably.
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