Happy Fucking Halloween

Yes, it's me. As Princess Sweetface Waterboard. I decided to go with this lovely outfit this year to placate the Religious Right, or we call them when we're at the Undisclosed Location, the Fucking Idiots. Anyway, they always liked this hat. It's kind of a crown-tiara thing but understated. I'm only the Vice President, after all. HA! As if.

Happy Birthday to me, gay marriage is back

I loves New Jersey, wherever that is. They're raising me from the dead, just like you know who. We don't have to talk about that stinky Vietnammy little war any more. We can bash the fags. Whippee Ki Yay. Git me a drink, Laura-honey, my female wife. I am your male husband in chief.

Bring me the head of Osama bin Laden

So, yes, I did say we did a little waterboarding on some terrorists. So fucking what? That's nothing. We could do a lot fucking worse. I could put them in a room with fucking Naomi Campbell. Five minutes they'd be screaming. Ten minutes they'd be confessing. Shit, in fifteen mintues they'd confess to shooting fucking Kennedy. Believe me, that bitch'd slap them around so fucking bad there'd be no place to hide. They'd be begging for that fucking waterboard. Me and Naomi, we go back.

Okay, say this pumpkin is Iraq

Let me explain it to you this way. If Iraq were a pumpkin, and I'm like the President, then I'm holding Iraq like in my hand, right? And if we you know were to like leave, like cut and run, or not stay the course--I mean, not finish the job, or whatever the fuck I'm supposed to be saying now, then see the pumpkin would be, like, alone, and no one would be holding it up, no President, I mean, and then the pumpkin could become Communist. What you say, Karl? No, I mean, it could become all islamic. Huh? What? Right, yeah, I mean, it is muslamic or whatever already, I know that, but I mean it could become bad islamic terror fascist, or something. Right? And see, right inside here is the oil, not pumpkin oil, but real oil, like Texas oil. So that's why I have to keep holding on to this big pumpkin even though it's getting really heavy. Can I put this down now? Jesus. I need a drink.

Did I say "Stay The Course"? No, I didn't. Well, if I did, that's not what I meant.

What I meant was Get the Job Done. Which means you stay until the job is done, but you do'n't have to stay until the course is done. I don't know what course they're talking about anyway. I know what a job is. A job is what poor people have. A course is like, I don't know, a golf course or something, maybe. But they don't have golf courses in Iraq, everyone knows that. They don't have jobs either, but we don't care about that. We only care about OUR job. OUR job is to get out of Iraq. After the job is done, I mean. We're not going to Cut and Run. I know what that means, too. At least I know what run is. That's when you jog around the ranch. Or maybe ride a bike. I like riding bikes. And clearing brush. That's like a job, clearing brush. Except I don't really clear the brush. The Mexicans clear the brush. I just hold it while they take the picture. Then they say you can put it down now, Mr. President. That's what I mean by getting the job done.

For once, the bitch has a good idea

If we could just get him to shut his fucking mouth, there might be a possibility that people will forget how fucking stupid he is. But nooooooooo, he thinks we need to hear his endless and useless drivel. Every fucking time he says anything--ANYTHING--we have to clean up the mess. What I love about this moron is there is absolutely no learning curve. He's as stupid today as he was the day he took office. What a fucking shit head.

Rice is Nice but Vice gonna win da prize

Ricecakes is in a no win situation. She's out there every day talking to everybody and what's she going to say? Things are going great? 70 dead soldiers in a month ain't so fucking great, no matter how you spin it. Me, I can talk or not, depending on my medication. I can stay in my fucking undisclosed location all year if I feel like. But old Condicunt is on the line, sputtering through the Sunday news shows and sitting in those fucking armchairs in those giant fucking ballrooms in South Korea. She's gotta say something, and she can't tell the truth, so she just looks like a fucking nutcase. Poor kid. Maybe we'll have to throw her to the lions. Boo fucking hoo.

One of our Stooges is missing

You can't get much stupider than these two. But I know they come in three's. Where's Tweedle Fuckwit? Now who would I be referring to? Rumsfuck? Ricefuck? Rovefuck? Foleyfuck? Fristfuck? Boltonfuck? The list is seemingly fucking endless.

Deep fucking doodoo

If we lose the House and the Senate in November, you can kiss this little nutsac goodbye. There's gonna be so fucking many congressional investigations you won't be able to keep track of them. It'll make Foleyfest seem like a Bush family picnic. So you better believe we is NOT gonna lose. Whatever it takes, is the instruction that's gone out to the Rovester, and when Karl is unleashed, the Demofucks better duck. If it takes another little terrorist attack on US soil, well, then, that's what we'll fucking have. I thought we'd get more mileage--so to fucking speak--out of the drop in gas prices, but who knew the Republican sleazoids would come oozing up all over the fucking place and distract the moralistas. So watch this space, fuckwits, we definitely the man.

Kim the man

Sometimes I just have to get down on my fucking knees and thank goddamn God for bailing us out of the shitwater one more time. Who knew that ole Kim was cooking up such a fuckfest but what else than a fucking nuclear test could shift the moral morons from focusing on FaggyFoley and his little homo page fucks. Gimme a fucking slant with a big bomb in his pocket any day. He might be a wacko sicko killer genocidal demento, but bless. He got us out of a big fat fag jam.
I might just nominate him for fucking Time magazine's Man of the Year.

Here, Condi. Good dog.

Talk about a lappuppy. Old Conderosa's got some 'splaining to do. She'll try the "I don't recall" defense for a while and see where it gets her. Maybe she'll just start playing the fucking piano as a distraction from the giant holes in her job performance. No fucking wonder Rumsfuck wouldn't return her calls.

Some Senate Sex Toys, I mean Pages

Excuse me, what the fuck is all the fuss about? Is there some insane fucking idea out there that these little hotsters are NOT there just to fuck the Senators? Are we all fucking stupid? Why would they show up for this fucking stupid job otherwise? I mean the Senators. Who would want to spend all this fucking time in this useless fucking snakepit of a town if you couldn't fuck the bejesus out of a hot sixteen year old every night. It's the major perk of the job, for christs sake. Get a grip, Moral Crusaders, and go after a real problem, like abortion doctors or Democrats. Leave those hunky little pages to the people who really care about them. I mean Foley gave 'em rides, for fucks sake. You think they want to WALK all the way over to MacDonalds? I don't fucking think so.

Give it up, Donnykins. Your cover is blown.

Even Rummy's twin sister, Donatella Rumsfeld-Satan of Oklahoma City and Sao Paolo, is urging him to go. She's beginning to see the dark, and agrees with me that it's time for the old warrior to fold up his tent and get the fuck out of Dodge. You couldn't love a fascist control freak twisted fuckbrain brother more than she does, but DR-S has frankly had it with the Donster's constant screwing up. "He's a fucking nitwit", she told me yesterday, calling from her private jet. "If he doesn't quit, you should have him eliminated. And I'm available for wet work." You gotta love that fucking family.