Tony Snow’s new job as Press Secretary at the White House came as no surprise to this bitch. Lawd, this had to be the worst kept secret in Washington! Anyhoo, the buzzless buzz was shooting all over the place last night. A bitch took 2 shots of Nyquil and floated into a wonderful politics filled slumber…
ABB’s Dream-based Exploration - The Selection of a New Press Minion…
President Bush, otherwise known as Scooter B., sat in his office contemplating his calendar.
With a frown, he glanced at his schedule minion…"Why can’t I take another vacation? I’ve been working hard! This is hard work! And there’s brush that needs clearing. Shit, Cheney gets vacations all the time. Just because he fucking shot someone during the last one shouldn’t mean that I can’t go and clear my brush. Laura is handling the mid-term coat tail thing…Karl is on top of maintaining a climate of fear and chaos…the base just re-introduced a call to ban those gays from getting hitched, so the wedge issue is in the works…what the hell is still hanging out there that can’t wait two weeks!” with a fierce grunt, he spat on the ground.
The schedule minion sighed…"Sir, you really need to cease all that spitting! To answer your question, your polls numbers are in the toilet and no one thinks now is a wise time for you to go on vacation. Sir, most Americans can’t afford to fill up their cars with gas…the last thing they need to see is you kicking back and having a good time when they are suffering!” turning away in disgust, the minion mumbled…"I thought working for Naomi Campbell was challenging! Give me a sharp left to the head any day over this asshole!”
“Okay…fine…what the fuck do you need from me now?” ranted Scooter B. in an inpatient rush.
“Sir, Mr. Bolten is here to see you.” Replied the minion. “Your new Chief of Staff, sir.” He continued in response to Scooter B.’s blank stare.
“Oh yeah! Send him in!”
The schedule minion complied and exited the room.
“Boltie, it’s great to see you!”
“It’s Josh, sir.”
“It’s Boltie, you pompous son of a bitch! Boltie!” Scooter B. sneered.
“Fine. Whatever. You need to pick a new Press Secretary.”
“If I do can I go on vacation again?” Scooter B. asked hopefully.
“What’s in it for me?”
“You won’t have to communicate directly with the press." clearly frustrated, Bolten's voice took on a harsh tone.
“Let’s do it! You’ve come to the right person, Boltie! I’m The Decider, after all!”
With a chuckle, Scooter B. settled down to…umm…well, decide.
“Laura! Everyone loves Laura Bush.”
“No, sir. Even if she wasn’t the First Lady, we need her on the campaign trail because she’s the only person associated with the past 6 years who doesn’t make the voters want to puke.”
“Harriet Miers!” Scooter B. shot back.
“No, sir. Have you lost your fucking mind?” was Boltie's…err, ummm….Bolten's alarmed reply.
“Ann Coulter? No, never mind…I can’t stand that nastified heifer. Umm, Hannity?”
“Sir…Mr. President? Decide, for the love of all that’s holy!”
“Fuck you! Give me something to decide on, asshole.” Scooter B. shot back.
“Fine. Tony Snow, asshole.”
“Hire him.” Scooter B. spat out, feeling decisive.
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
“That’s why they call me The Decider, Boltie.”
Turning and quickly exiting the office, Boltie…umm, Bolten was heard mumbling…"Decider, my conservative yes-man bullshit spewing ass.”