Lunchtime in Harlem

Reports suggest Bill Clinton and Barack Obama will be meeting for lunch this week. Here’s how it might go down.

BC: So, now you come crawlin’, huh, son?
BO: It’s good to see you, Mr. President.
BC: Cut the crap, Barry. And I’m calling you Barry, so get used to it.
BO: I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.
BC: You damn well better.
BO: I do.

"I need the Mick Jagger Bill Clinton. The ladies throwing their panties onstage Clinton."

BC: You’re in a world of shit, son.
BO: Can I speak candidly?
BC: Wish you would. Cheeseburger? Onion rings?
BO: No, thank you.
BC: Chicken? Meatball sub?
BO: No, sir. Thank you.
BC: What’s on your mind?
BO: I need the Clinton magic.
BC: Hillary’s out there right now, doin’ her thing for you.
BO: And I appreciate that, Mr. President, but I need you.
BC: How do you mean?
BO: You’ve got a way with the ladies. And they’re leaving me for Palin.
BC: Ain’t she somethin’? Damn! Ol’ John blindsided you, didn’t he?
BO: She’s a fake! A phony! A manufactured cardboard cutout!
BC: Who isn’t, Barry? You want some pizza? A taco?
BO: No, thank you.
BC: Pasta? Banana cream pie?
BO: I don’t have much of an appetite lately.
BC: You’re lookin’ pretty gaunt. And gay, to be honest.
BO: I’m on a tightrope. I can’t attack her, and I can’t keep letting her steal the thunder.
BC: Thunder’s done gone, son. But you’re right—tight spot. But you gotta stop lookin’ like a whiny bitch.
BO: Can you help me?
BC: What do you have in mind?
BO: I need the Mick Jagger Bill Clinton. The ladies throwing their panties onstage Clinton.
BC: Heh, heh, heh, heh. Think that’ll quiet down the Hockey Mama Drama?
BO: It can at least distract them. Do the lip bite. Do the eyes welling with tears thing. The voice crack.
BC: And you're prepared to offer me what in return?
BO: UN Ambassador? Secretary of State? What do you want?
BC: Supreme Court for Hillary. Ambassador to Switzerland for Chelsea.
BO: Done. What about you?
BC: I just wanna be buddies, Barry. I wanna hang out, go to barbecues together, watch some football, drink some beer, shoot some hoops. Just quit leavin’ me on the sidelines, man. I can help.
BO: Done, sir.
BC: I’ll head down South for you this weekend. Hit some county fairs and church suppers and get your mojo back. Salad?
BO: Yes, please. And thank you.


For those who enjoy coincidence, today is 9/9/8 - and this is post #998 on Where's My Jetpack?

There Are Two Kinds of People in This World

As Hillary Clinton continues to destroy everything in her path in pursuit of power, it is sad and sickening to watch the final death throes of her campaign. It’s like the Wicked Witch’s last scene in The Wizard of Oz. The shock on her face as Dorothy throws the bucket of water, then the shrieks and hissing as she melts down to her hat and cloak. (Did I just call Hillary Clinton a witch? Absolutely. And that makes me no more a misogynist than calling Bush a chimp makes me a zoo keeper.)

About a week ago, I almost felt pity for her. “She fought hard,” I lied to myself. “She certainly has grit and stamina,” I justified. Then my mind was suddenly liberated from that demonic reasoning and I recalled the despicable tactics, the rule-changing in mid-game, the charge that anyone who isn’t a Hillary supporter is sexist and the countless other shameful acts she and her husband have shown us this political season. Now she insists that letting her have her way, giving her the presidency she so desperately wants, so in her heart believed was hers, is on the same moral plane as the abolition of slavery, the civil rights movement or women’s suffrage. And her die-hard legion of cultists truly believe “She cares about ME.” No, she doesn’t. She cares about nothing and no one but herself. If the states that went for her opponent don’t matter and the rules don’t matter, YOU sure as hell don’t matter.

Smile, point and wave. At invisible people on the tarmac.

As she now brazenly lies and cheats, she is turning our already ugly politics on its hideous head. She is spitting and shitting on us, and telling us while she does so that it’s for our own good. Thank you, Queen Hillary. May I have a towel? Maybe she actually is mad, as in crazy, as some suggest. I think she’s merely soulless.

But if she were my mother or sister or aunt, I’d probably try to avoid her phone calls and maybe gently suggest she seek counseling and medication. If she were my wife, I’d have divorced her years ago. Take the house, take half my money. Hell, take it all! Please, just go. If Obama picks her as his running mate, he’s a tool and a fool. Is America ready for a female president? Stupid question. Quit asking. Of course we are. But America will never be ready for Hillary Rodham Clinton.

Now, for the other kind of person in this world.

Grace Moon, a 6th grader from California, won Google’s Doodle 4 Google competition. She came up with this very cheerful design. Here’s Grace’s explanation: My doodle, "Up in the Clouds," expresses a world in the sky. This new world is clean and fresh, and people are social and enlightened. Every person here is treated as family no matter who they are. The bright sun heats this ideal place with warmth, love, and brightens everyone's day.

I will not throw dark clouds at your sunny vision, Grace. But you show beyond-your-years insight by explaining that this world you’ve created with your art is in the sky. Couldn’t have said it better myself. Very nice. A+.

And Now, a Word From William

If thou would but clicketh, the image most assuredly doth groweth

The Similarities are Striking

Both are recognized dynasties

Both are often referred to as “machines”

Both have been accused of cheating

Both crush opponents without mercy

Both are hated by more people than support them

Both are considered inevitable winners

Both are robotic and mechanical

The defeat of either would prompt spontaneous nationwide partying

The End of Term Three Way Handshake

Gee, where have we seen this before? An American President, eager to salvage his "legacy," goes out of office trying to be the great Man of Peace for the Middle East.

Hintin' at Clinton

Todays' New York Times Magazine (cover story on the Clintons) has some interesting Clinton-focused ads within.

You can't subliminalize me, NYT. I see where you stand on the upcoming election. You probably told your sponsors, "This is our Clinton issue, so feel free to include hints of Clinton in your ads this week."


The back cover is for a special holiday bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label, which comes with the option of engraving the bottle for your friends. This bottle is engraved from (or to, not sure) "Bill."


















But then explain this. One of the longer running ads in this magazine is for a walk-in tub by Premier. This time they've got a couple of new models who look eerily like a certain former president and his wannabe president wife.