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George W Bush, President

Saturday, March 22, 2003

I'm at Camp Dave again

Mr. Rove is mad because because I yelled "fuckin' A" and high-fived everyone when we bombed the crap out of Iraq, yesterday. He says it wasn't presidential. I say if you can't take delight in bombing then why do it at all.

Anyway, I'm at Camp Dave again, and it's cool. I don't have to watch the war all the time on TV--the bombing only takes a few minutes and then it's a bunch of weird people talking.

Instead, I can watch the NCAA. I bought a lot of squares in Mr. Ridge's gambling pool, but don't tell Mr. Ashcroft or Tommy Thompson because they say that NCAA gambling pools make Jesus cry.

Lots of people are watching the games with me and most of them are drinking beer and liquor. That's cool because I can finish their drinks when they go to pee. You see, it's not really falling off the wagon if you don't pour it for yourself. Nancy Reagan taught me that.

The only thing that bothers me about Camp David is that Mr. Abraham is always there. He's a secretary at the Department of Energy even though he's a man. I think that's kind of strange. We don't have a lot of tolerance for man secretaries down in Texas, but I try to be open-minded because it seems like I have to work with a lot of them here in Washington. There's Mr. Abraham, Tommy, Mr. Ridge, Mr. Rumsfeld, Mr. Powell, and a bunch of others.

Anyway, I really don't like a man secretary following me around like Mr Abraham does. He's always trying to please me. It's like, "can I get you anything Mr. President" or "would you like to see our new plan to drill for oil in Arlington Cemetary, Mr. President." Sure the last thing sounds like a good idea, but I'm always wondering if he's sneaking peeks at my butt. You can kill a man in Texas for doing that.

He's also kind of scary. I've often wondered if he is an alien--not the kind Mr Ashcroft likes to send to other countries to be tortured because they talk funny, but the kind that comes from outer space, He looks kind of like Jabba the Hut. When I'm not worrying if he's checking out my butt, I'm worried that he might grab me with his lightening fast tounge and swallow me whole. I don't think the Secret Service would be fast enough to stop him.

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