Laura Bush's Diary

So last night the twins and I were out late bowling and we stopped off for a few tequila shooters at the Roadhouse. How come there are never any bouncers who look like Patrick Swazye at the Roadhouse? I mean they all look like that Bobby/Elvis guy on Sons of Anarchy. Man there is no justice in this world.

Anyhoo I had quite a headache this morning when I came down to breakfast. Now W has this TV hookup that is mad sick. It has a six split screen capability so you can watch for incoming missiles from all over or all the NFL games at the same time. Now every one of there was tuned to a different news program and guess what? Barry O was on every fuckin’ one of them at the same time.

So I ask W what’s up? He tells me that Barry is trying to sell his health care bullshit which is going down the tube faster than Richard Gere’s gerbil on Halloween. I mean what does he hope to accomplish by saturating the airways this way. It’s the law of diminishing returns you know?

That’s Barry’s whole problem in a nutshell. I mean he was real popular when he got elected and he is squandering it by being on the TV all the time. What he has to realize is that all the people that built you up are going to enjoy tearing you right down to size. Your popularity is a fleeting thing and as soon as you get up on that pedestal, everyone will want to pull you down and do you dirty.

It’s like Elvis. You know how big he was back in the day? I mean he did it all. He sang, he acted, he wrote songs, and he was the ultimate sex symbol. Everybody wanted to be like Elvis. People wore their hair like him and try to copy his sneer when they sang. They would shake their hips like him when they danced and use his music to seduce women. But it all went wrong because of dick. Dick Nixon.

You see Elvis was on top of the world. More number one hits than anyone to that point. A multi-million dollar contract for sold out concerts in Vegas. I mean he was Celine Dion when she was still showing camel toe in her diapers. Elvis had it all. And then he went to the White House to meet with Tricky Dick. You see Elvis was tired of being an entertainer. What he really wanted to do was be a cop. So Nixon called up Hoover who was on his last legs and told him he wanted to make Elvis an FBI secret agent. But Hoover hated his guts because he felt he had popularized that “colored music” and had led to the degeneracy that was destroying the country. But Nixon insisted so Hoover had to acquiesce. But he had a secret plan.

The FBI had developed a secret serum that when ingested would make you indulge your appetites until you ultimately destroyed yourself with excess. It didn’t matter what the appetite was. They first tested it on Momma Cass Elliott and she choked on a ham sandwich. Then they sprayed it on a dildo that Jim Morrison was using with one of his groupies and he ended up drinking himself to death. So they dipped the pin on the super secret agent badge they gave Elvis so he would get infected. The only problem was that when Tricky Dick was pinning it on he accidentally pricked his finger. This was the only time that Nixon was ever accidentally a prick. So Elvis eventually ate and drugged himself to death on a toilet. And Nixon ended up indulging his paranoia to the point that he ended up getting impeached and losing everything.

We only found about all this shit when Poppy became head of the CIA and read some of their files. You see when he found out about it he got a vial of the stuff just in case he ever needed it. And wouldn’t you know one night old Bug eyed Barb mistook it for her FDS spray and sprayed her twat with it. She has been insatiable ever since. That’s why no midget wrestler ever lives past 30. Once Barb gets her hands on them she wears them down to a nub. And she is still going strong.

She is one strong and powerful twat.