Diary of a Madman

The following passages were assembled from shredded paper found in an American National Archives dumpster by the Iranian Ambassador. A team of the country’s best rug craftsmen is said to be working full-time on puzzling out the complete text. While some portions of this first batch could not be separated from dried globs resembling half-digested pretzels and spattered root beer, much remains legible. Authenticity, while not established, seems likely since the paper bears White House watermarks. The text appears to have been transcribed from recordings with much of the President’s special flair for language suppressed, although there is a hand-written note about not making him sound like some “Eastern puke.”


Goddam that woman!!! Can’t she see I’m having my vacation? Jeez, I’m the War President and Commander in Chief of this here whole United States. Ain’t I entitled to a little R and R without being bothered? I get mighty tired spending ten and half months a year being President. Talking to damn foreigners and asshole reporters, trying not to doze off in briefings I couldn’t give a shit about, staying up past nine o’clock and missing my favorite T.V. shows. God, they ought to know I never held down a regular job in my life!

Ain’t she got nothing better to do than standing around with her damned flag like no one else was a good enough American? Anyway, you can’t be a good enough American when you don’t support the War President. That goes without saying.

Boy, I’d like to send a bunch of Teamsters in there to bust her gang up a little. That’s what old Dick Nixon would do. But the V.P. says there’s other ways to bust her up. He’s working on it right now. He said he might bring in that cement mixer wife of his as special White House consultant. She’s enough to scare the bejesus out of anyone.

I told the whole goddamn staff that cost is no object on this one. Hell, the Party spent a fortune trying to get that weasel pervert Clinton. They bought up his damned antique chair and had all the stains tested for DNA before burning it. They even gave some woman a nose job for testifying. They can’t do less for the War President.

I just heard Karl put out the word on her! Karl’s friends will make her sorry she ever messed around with the War President. Them people of his is like a posse in the last stages of rabies! God bless Karl. He’s a mighty good man. I don’t care what he did to that other bitch at the CIA.

I got feelings, too, whatever they say. Ain’t nobody got more feelings about them boys than me. Fact is I get downright sick of hearing about dead Marines. I can’t enjoy my supper. Spoils my T.V. watching, I’ll tell you. Costs votes every damn time a bunch goes and gets themselves blown up. I know what they’re going through! Haven’t I been through hell? I’m still suffering withdrawal symptoms at least as bad as any damn combat flashbacks.

I’m a man that knows fear, that’s for sure. I run away from more shit than I can remember. I don’t know how many times I nearly crapped my pants caught goofing off. Now, I got to spend my vacation looking like I’m sitting through an Easter sermon.

Dick says she’s nuts and he’s right. Dick’s always right. Family values got nothing to do with nut cases. Half them people out there with her look like the weirdoes I used to throw the switch on when I was Governor. I should have got rid of more of them pukes when I had the chance!

What’s the matter with Tony? He can’t even make that wife of his shut her mouth!!! Can’t he see how Laura’s trained? Tony’s wife opens her mouth and you can see the goddam fillings in her molars. And she dresses like a bus driver’s wife going to a fancy restaurant for the first time. I swear I don’t think she’s wearing a girdle half the time. Laura flutters her eyelashes and gives her little lines like a pro. And she looks right for the job with a girdle as stiff as a Marine flak jacket, wearing them Laura Ashley pilgrim suits with lacey stuff. They cost a fortune, custom-made, but I’ll tell you, they’re worth every penny.

I confess I do sometimes get worried about them girls of ours having a few too many in some bar one night and saying something that ought to stay strictly in the family. Oh, they do take after their old man that way, I mean about having one too many. Ha, ha. Though they better not go trying some of what the old man did. Girls don’t table dance naked, least not no girls of mine. Other girls is just fine. But we got plenty of Secret Service on them, trained to yank them home faster than Homeland Security hitting the button on another terror alert.

Can’t a Brit tell a Brazil from an Iraq? You go doing that kind of thing and next thing you know they’ll have every damned homeless person like Cindy Sheehan marching in London. Why can’t Tony just throw suspect scum in jail same as we do? Hell, you don’t need to go telling anyone. Let them rot and everyone’s happy is what I say.

Is Tony running a government or some damned tourist information booth? What’s all the leaks over there? Goddam top secret stuff spilling out all over the place!!! Good thing most Americans don’t read. That’s a fact that’s saved my sorry ass more than once.

[This is as far as work on the papers has gone at this time.]