Dear Mr. President

Yo, 'bama:

If this so-called "stimulus package" reaches your desk in any way resembling its current form and you sign it, you will have pissed away all the good will you earned from independents. This bill is a joke and every economist knows it. I'm not an economist, but even my untrained brain knows pork when it sees it.

If, on the other hand, you veto this sack of crap and publicly scold Pelosi & Co for playing the "politics as usual" game you campaigned against, demanding they come back with a serious bill, I will regard you as the shrewdest, most effective game-player ever to play the game.

Sincerely,

Some guy who is already almost sorry he voted for you

What'd You Pay for This, Associated Press?

Sick ghouls. The rise of new media has turned the traditional hounds on their heads, upturning every rock for the latest salacious story.

We can put them out of business if we don't click on this crap. But, alas, we're Americans, and there's nothing like a multi-murder-suicide to pique our curiosity.

Take it away, Nancy Grace, Queen of the Whore Journalists.

I Keep Meaning to See Gran Torino

But instead we caught this classic on History Channel while away in America's Oldest City.

Grandstanderson Pooper

This guy had a few too many prior to this on-air appearance. I love to see the media drunk on the job. So inspiring.

The Deal They Struck - Why Bush Didn't Pardon Anyone

If you listened to Obama's inaugural address (and who didn't?) you couldn't help but wonder how Bush felt about the whole thing as Obama repeatedly made pointed references to Bush's failed administration. There Bush sat behind him, quiet, some would say pensive, (though his detractors would not give him that much credit) taking it all in. They booed him as he appeared on the platform and Obama ripped him up without mentioning him directly in his speech. And yet here they are after the swearing-in, waiting for the helicopter that would take Bush away.


Looks like George is saying something funny, Michelle and Barack laughing. Just a couple of members of the most exclusive fraternity in the world sharing a moment.

You'll recall the meeting they had in the White House after the election, alone in the Oval Office. Here's how that meeting went down.

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BO: This is a nice office.
GB: Yeah, it's nice. And it's also lonely as hell, man. No matter how many people are in here with you, it's all on you.
BO: That's what I've read. Lincoln said bascially the same thing.
GB: Yeah, Lincoln. Nice fella. Good guy. Shame how that ended.
BO: So...
GB: Well, this was your people's idea. Is this just a photo-op or what are we doing here?
BO: You know I've campaigned on change and hope and doing things differently, Mr. President...
GB: Duh. Really?
BO: [Laughing] They said you were a fun guy. I see that now.
GB: I just freeze up around cameras, man. It sucks. It hurt me. Wish I could be more like you. I mean, even the way we walked in here and waved to the folks on the lawn...you're all cool and swaggering and I'm all stiff and weird. That ain't me! I can be cool and swaggering. Check this out. [Gets up from chair and does embarrasing pimp walk.]
BO: [Laughing politely] I have no doubt, Mr. President.
GB: Oh! And get used to THAT shit! EVERYONE calling you Mr. President. Even your buddies from high school and college, standing up when you walk in a room with Mr. President this and Mr. President that. Annoying as hell. No matter how many times you tell them to quit, they keep doing it. Although, if you can get your wife to say it one or two times in the sack, it's pretty cool.
BO: I have no doubt. So, Mr. President...
GB: Yes, Mr. President...HA!
BO: You need to know that if you leave office pardoning a bunch of people in your administration for things that may have happened vis a vis torture...
GB: Fuckin' "vis a vis." Hate that term.
BO: It's going to look bad, sir. It won't be good for the country.
GB: Yeah, I've thought about that, but have you read Huffington Post lately? Those jackals want my severed balls in the Smithsonian. They'd hang Cheney, Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld and everyone else on the Mall and have it on YouTube in five seconds.
BO: Look, if I promise not to fan the flames of "war crimes" and try to keep the far left from pursuing a legal case against you, can you avoid pardoning a bunch of folks?


GB: You got no hold on that crowd, Barack. They're crazy fuckin' anarchists as far as I can tell.
BO: Look, if worse comes to worst, I'll pardon you clowns if I have to. But we can't have this spectacle of pardons as you leave office. And don't be so sure about who I've got a hold on. You watched Brit Hume lately?
GB: Brit's disappointed me lately. You're some kind of magic man. Even my girls think you're cool. But they didn't vote for you.
BO: One other thing...
GB: [Gets up from chair and proceds to mini-fridge] You thirsty? I'm sorry. You want a Coke?
BO: Pepsi, please.
GB: That logo sucks, by the way. Can't believe Pepsi did that shit.
BO: Well, I'm buying stock.
GB: I am, too. I'm not stupid.
BO: [Laughs]
GB: Aw, fuck off, man. [punches Obama's arm] Someday after you get settled, you call me. We got a lot to share eventually. You'll figure out I got a bad rap 'cause of some stuff, but I'm not so bad. So...one other thing?
BO: Yeah. At the inaugural, I'm going to have say some pretty mean stuff about you while you're sitting right behind me.
GB: Like you didn't say them for two years on the campaign trail? C'mon, Barry! You kiddin' me? I'm outta here. I'm going home. You seen pictures of me when I took office? This job takes its toll on a man. One more speech bashing me is nothing new. Listened to that goddamn Olbermann every night.
BO: Keith's not so bad.
GB: Maybe. Whatever. Yeah, say you what you need to say, I'll avoid creating PardonFest '09 and then we can do the happy scene on the back steps of the Capitol. Peaceful transfer of power and all that.
BO: So, we're cool?
GB: We're cool.
BO: How do you want to describe our visit to the press?
GB: "Friendly visit" always works, or "amicable discussion."
BO: Sounds good, Mr. President.
GB: I can't wait to be called "George" again.