Laura Bush's Diary

So I came home today and there was a message on the machine from W’s mother that bug eyed bitch Barbara. She wanted me to come to see her. I hate to do that because even though we have found our peace through the years it is still dicey when we get together.

You see whenever you the First Ladies get together there can only be one “First Lady.” And that would be me. You see Nancy Reagan never passed on the Traveling First Ladies Underpants to old Bug Eyes because she hated her guts. She was happy to give them over to Hillary because she recognized another strong willed bitch, who would do the right thing for her country. And Hillary passed them on to me. So you see Barb was out of the underpants loop as it were.

Anyways I figured I had to go because the old bag had been sick and who knows maybe she wanted to make nice before she started to fry down below if you know what I mean. So I got W to take a trip up to Maine with me to visit his folks.

When we get there, Barb sends for me right away. I wonder what it was all about as I got over to her sickbed. Now she had a heart thingey not too long ago and was taking it easy. But she seemed very agitated and I wonder what it was all about.

“Laura” she said. “We have a problem.” “What do you mean we white man” I said quoting the famous saying of Tonto when he was with the Lone Ranger and they were surrounded with a bunch of pissed off redskins. “It’s that idiot Obama. He appointed that Latina twat Sort-a-rican to the Court. You can’t let that stand Barbara. She can’t have a confirmation hearing.” “Why not” I laughed. “Why should I give a hot shit.” “Because her real father is Pedro Morales and if all that shit comes out they will find about Atlantic City and then we are both sunk.”

Well I have to admit that the bug eyed bitch was right. You see as I have said before Babs and I are big time rassling fans and I have told you about my “friendship” with Gorilla Monsoon and Chief Jay Strongbow. Well what I didn’t tell you was what happened the first year of Poppy Bush’s presidency. You see W was still on the sauce then and he was fucking up all the time. One day he was on a toot and was sitting in the Oval Office in his underwear drinking tequila when the phone rang. It was Sadaam Hussein and he wanted to tell Poppa Bush that he was going to roll into Kuwait to jack some of the oil from those other ragheads. So W says shitfire go for it you sand monkey just make sure the Bush’s get their fair share of the pot. And old Sadamn said sure no problemo. Well of course the shit hit the fan when Poppy Bush got back to the White House and he was really pissed at W. He was going to disown him and everything. But old Barb had a plan up her wrinkled old sleeve. She called me in and said she would smooth it over if I got W to stop drinking. And if I got her a chance to meet with one of her favorite rassler’s Pedro Morales who was the former world champ right after Bruno the living legend. So I had to say sure, let me give Gorilla a call and set something up.

The next weekend Babs and I went down to Atlantic City on a “fund” raising trip and stayed at the Taj Mahal. Man does that place suck. Did you know that idiot Trump wanted to call it the Garage Mahal but thought better of it. What a dump.

So we get up to the suite and Gorilla was there with Pedro and Rick the Dragon Steamboat who was their protégé. Anywho we called down for room service and got a couple of bottles of tequila and some ribs and we had a little party. The Gorilla and I went down to shoot some craps and then we went over to his room to “talk.”

So when get back to the room it looks like the freakin Koreans had lit off one of their atom bombs. Man what a mess. And old Barb had her dress on backwards. I didn’t say anything because it was just some good ammunition for me. But Pedro was a real pain the ass. He kept crying and mumbling in Spanish. I mean he was really drunk which wasn’t surprising because you know Puerto Ricans can’t handle their booze. Not like Dominicans. I mean they can hold their booze but keep them away from the computer or the fuckers will email you fifty fucking times in a row.

Anyway he was crying about his little baby Sonia that he had to leave because his baby mama was married to another and he was married and it was a big mess. And now it dawned on me. He must have been talking about Judge Sotomayer. Hot shit we can’t let this get out. What if they call him to testify? He would be worse than fuckin Admiral Poindexter. I have to nip this shit in the bud.

I better get on the horn to Cheney. He will know what to do.