That son of a bitch.
W. knew everything, that son of a bitch.
Rove knew, Hughes knew, Smirk the Wonder Dog - every thief in
the den knew.
She came to me right after that Florida skullduggery in December and said,
"We need coons, slants and beaners. You're
in the cabinet, either Transpo, EPA or Labor,
depends where Dick needs ya. You get
2 mill a year in untraceable bearer bonds,
but you do what you're fucking told
and you keep your nasty ass clean. You in or out?"
I said, "Karen Hughes! Your language is terrible! Please speak like a lady."
She said, "Fuck that shit, Beano, you're crazier
than a runover dog if you think I'm gonna let
some has-been maid correct my fucking language.
We don't need your kind in Washington,
we need people who know their place. You in
or out?"
Well, for 2 mill a year in untraceable bearer bonds, I'll Monica most anything, I thought.
I mean, ...it's not like I'm a shallow and patronizing Uncle Thomasina
or anything...
I never sold my people into slavery or anything... I don't even
own
any bondage porn...
I'm no Ward Connerly, ...you ever see me block a Mexican from a doorway at UCLA?
So anyways, Karen Hughes says she has to interview me herself, cause
this was "BIG time."
I was real up-front about the Guatamalan gardener, maid and poolboy.
Karen said it was "no big deal," that "Guat's are worth less than spics."
Sure ...that's a little harsh, but I didn't get where I got by correcting whitey.
Sos, I gave Karen the 411 about the Guats, and I mentioned the
potential
IRS questions and
the alleged Social Security situation, but Karen said,
"We can make any mother-fucker disappear."
I just can't get used to her language...
...but what happens?
The first day the maid story broke, W backed me up, but it was by
accident.
He didn't understand what the memo said.
Cheney told him to "Chuck the Burrito,"
and George thought that meant "Meet me at Chimi's,"
so I got a one-day buffer, but then Cheney drove over and explained
everything to George.
George W., there's another one. ...simpleton.
We were at a fund-raiser for his dad in 1992, he was drunker n' shit
and he pulled me
into a closet, placed my hand on his crotch and asked me if I've ever
drilled a dry hole...
"Drilled a dry hole?"
What the hell kinda foreplay is that?
What does that even mean?
Sos, I bolted, I don't even think he remembers.
He was drunker that night than he was on that
wedding video.
Sos, anyway, George called the second day and said he was "deep-sixing"
me.
Aye, Caramba!
I was worried, Bush is CIA - "deep six" can mean anything to
those bloodless savages.
But so far, I'm OK and my kids and parents are doing fine.
So maybe the Bush family isn't the cabal of murdering thugs everybody
tells me.
In closing, I'd like to say George W. Bush will be a great president.
He'll do for America what Reagan did, and that's a promise.
Linda Chavez,
Alive and in her place.