Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Junior and the gang: Remembering the party...
I don't care what anyone says. The Bush years were some mighty fine times. Yeppers. Mighty fine.
I haven't talked about it much, but now that the party is over, I guess it's okay to do a little "catapultin' of the propaganda."
For the past 8 years, myself and a few others of the Portland gang were part of Junior's personal entourage. Partyin'. Drinkin'. Having a few laughs. Just generally livin' fat off the federal treasury.
High times. And I do mean "high." Ribeye steak and bacon-cheese fries every night. Late nights of partying in the Oval 'til Ol' Man Dick came stumbling out in his skivvies and nightshirt and sent us all jumping over the security fence. One time he let fly with his shotgun and pelted Andre in the face with a load of rock salt.
Man, we laughed to see the antics of those poor goofs stranded on their rooftops in New Orleans, during the flood! Just yucking it up on Air Force One. Junior laughed so hard he almost choked on a pretzel. There he was, one minute laughing and spitting crumbs onto his shirt, the next, turning blue and clutching at his throat. He staggered around for a good minute before tripping over the ottoman and spitting out a drool-soaked Rold Gold. Sent the rest of us into hysterics. I damn near passed out.
Well, nothing lasts forever, as the saying goes. We knew that eventually somebody'd wise up and send us packing. We just figured we'd ride that pony 'til she died underneath us. And, damn! She nearly did!
Well, shoot. It wasn't like we were tryin' to fool anybody. We came to Washington to see what we could get out of it. Wasn't our fault if those red state yokels took us seriously.
Anyway, I imagine now that he's gone back to Texas, we won't be partying with Junior too much anymore. He's a momma's boy, after all. And I know that old battle axe is gonna give him an earful when he shows up in her kitchen, stinkin' of gin and cigar smoke.
Makes me laugh just to think about it.
Happy April Fool's Day!