Anyhoo I asked W what was so funny this time and he told me about the photo op that Barry had with that crazed Harvard professor and the pig from Boston. I call him a pig because that is what we always called the cops in the sixties. I mean I don’t mean anything by it because it is just a slang term. Like whore which is what I call W’s mom. But that also is another story.
So I ask W why he thinks this is so funny. I mean it is just a lame attempt to stop the bleeding from when old Barry shot his mouth off about the situation where he called the cops “stupid.” And W tells me “It’s not that Laura. It’s just that Barry is such a God dammed wimp. I mean one beer. What a pussy. They didn’t even do shots. What kind of meeting is that? Remember when we had a drinking date at the White House.” “I thought we promised not to talk about that George” I said. “I know, I know but still it is damn funny.” “I guess it is but that is something that is best kept in the past.”
You see George was referring to something long in the past. Before he was President. Shitfire before his daddy was President. It was when the Gipper was President and he was having all that grief with the Rooosians. Old Gorbachev was coming over for a meeting and Ronnie had a big problem. You see Gorby was a big time boozer like those Russkies. I mean everybody talked about Yeltsin but that only came out because they lost control of the press but all of them Roosians loved to booze it up. Now President Reagan couldn’t drink at all because he was too old and plus he never really liked the stuff. You see his old man was a drunk so he never got in the habit. And Poppy Bush was a light weight. I mean give him a glass of sherry and he is out like a light. That’s how old pop-eyed Barb could sneak all those midget wrestlers into the White House. So they turned to the only real drinker in the administration. W.
You see W was still drinking then and he could really hold his booze. So President Reagan deputized him to drink with Gorby in a private meeting that we held up in the family quarters of the White House. It was just Gorby and Rasia and W and me. Ronnie came in and spoke with them for a while but then he left with his speechwriter Peggy Noonan. He had to go over his talking points which was really just euphuism because he spent the time spanking her ass with his cordovan loafers. I mean poor Ronnie couldn't get it up anymore but he still liked his fun. But that as they say is another story.
So we start drinking and we proceeded to get sloshed at light speed. I mean there was vodka of course and some port and cigars and then I introduced them to the old Texas tradition of tequila shooters. Well those Rooskies took to that like a duck to water. They were knocking back those shots like there was no tomorrow. Now you found out a lot about someone when they are drunk. Not only were they big drinkers but you know what, they were swingers! I was shocked when Rasia first raised the possibility but I was kinda intrigued. I mean I have been around the block but I was never with a furineer. Well if you don’t count Mexicans. And let me tell you Gorby was a real Fur-in-eer. He was one hairy dude. We were all tangled up on the couch petting and kissing and squeezing and licking until I couldn’t take it anymore. I got off the couch and shouted “Mr. Gorbachev tear down these pants.” Just as I said that don’t you know that skank Peggy Noonan came in the room in a camisole and a ball gag. Things just deteriorated from there. All in all it had to be one of wildest sexual orgies that ever occurred in the Oval Office. Except of course when Bill Clinton sat in there by himself.
Anyway we managed to use the photos that the CIA took to blackmail Gorby into loosening the reigns of government and the next thing you know the Soviet Union collapsed quicker than slick Willie when he sees Hillary naked. Oh and that bitch Noonan stole my line. But at least it all worked out in the end. And that is the way you throw a party.
I considered it a “teachable moment.” Heh.