Bush

As I get closer to the holidays, the insane-o-meter is erratically creeping into the red. I saw some old lady walk down the street in downtown Buffalo with an Elf hat on, in broad daylight, in the midst of a snow storm, carrying a DVD player back to her car, and she smiled, “Isn’t the weather just grand?”

Yeah . . . I punched her.

Don’t worry. I got mine when she hurled that DVP-NS57P at me and hit me squaw in the nuts. While I spent the customary 10 minutes writhing in pain waiting for it to subside, I was able to hail a cab and go on my merry day.

And much like the swelling on the sack decreased, so did my holiday angst. . . til I saw this. So did you know that the White House grounds are a protected National Park? After I win in November, that won’t stop me from dismantling the place and setting up a Taco stand where the Oval office stood. Or maybe create a parking lot with extra wide spaces. Don’t you hate having to cram into a space when you’ve got a mini-van? I’ll sell all the bricks on eBay and, I dunno, maybe buy the old elf lady a really nice DVD player. You know like a HES-V1000 where you can play like 300 DVDs at once.

“Sure, Barney. You and Miss Beazley could be Junior Park Rangers if you want to,” . . . Are you f*cking kidding me? Why doesn’t he make the overgrown rats President and Vice President while he’s at it? But let’s face it Barney would be a horrible president. I mean its obvious to anyone that the only reason Barney even got to be the first dog is because his daddy is president.

My name is Banky and I approved this message.