Friday, February 5, 2010

Laura Bush's Diary


So I was sitting in the sun room with the girls having some margherita’s and salsa and chips and just shooting the shit. I like to keep close tabs on the girls because they need their Mom. I mean I ain’t too worried about Jenna because she has her head screwed on straight. She takes after me. She partied in college and drank a lot and did a lot of weed and had a lot of boy friends and now she is married and settled down and pretty soon we will be having grand kids. I can’t wait.

It’s Barb that worries me. I should never have named after W’s mother that pop eyed twat. It was bad mojo all the way. I mean it’s like name your kid Hitler or Hussein or something. Although that seemed to work out for Barry so I guess you never know you know?

Anyhoo W comes in from the golf course and kisses the girls hello and chatted with them for a while. They have a great relationship with their dad. He never sweated the bad publicity and shit when they were getting drunk in college and stuff. He would say “Laura if they only knew what we used to do it would make their heads explode. Let them have their fun. Fuck the press. They are against us anyway.”

So W had a guestion for them. “You know Ole Barry called me up to ask me a question. Not about the War on Terror or the economy or any of that crap. It was about his girls. One of them has a crush on somebody and he doesn’t know what to do about it. I mean he knows what we went through that at the White House and he wants some advice. What should I tell him girls?”

“Let them enjoy themselves” Jenna said. “Oh he has to be careful” replied Barbara. Typical of both of them. I had to laugh. “I don’t think it matters what he wants W. Daughters have a way of wrapping their daddies around their little fingers. Right girls.”
“Right Mama” chorused the twins. “I mean I could tell you some stories….” “Oh Mom we don’t want to hear about the old days…it’s so boring.” “Boring? Ha. If you only knew!”

You see, I don’t tell my kids any of these stories like that gay show “How I Met Your Mother.” That would be stupid. I figure they can just read this diary. After I am dead. Long dead. Rotted out even. You know dead as a doornail. Dead as Strom Thurmonds cock. Which I have a great story about but that’s for another time.

You see I did a lot of wild shit when I was living in New York after college. I talked about how I shared a room with my friends Robin Byrd and Joey Heatherton and Anita Gillette. We were young tootsies on the make in those days. We didn’t have a pot to piss in but we had a lot of fun. We would get invited to all these parties because we were young and hot and a lot of fun. If you know what I mean? It was great. It just was that sometimes it could get weird.

We were always getting invited to parties especially by Joey. She had a lot of contacts because her dad was the Merry Mailman on WPIX TV and he knew everybody in the business. But one night she really out did herself.

She burst into the apartment and said “Girls you won’t believe what happened. Jilly Rizzo just called Daddy and he wants us to all come to a party at his restaurant. Frank Sinatra is gonna be there. With his daughter Nancy. It’s gonna be groovy.”

That’s how we talked back then. Nancy had just had a big hit with “These Boots were Made for Walking” and of course we wanted to meet Mr. Sinatra. There was only one catch. “The only thing is Frank wants us to bring our dads.” “How are we gonna do that Joey. My Daddy is in Houston. And Robyn doesn’t even know who her daddy is for crying out loud?” But Robyn had the answer. “Shit fire Laura, we just have to fucking improvise.”

So we made a couple of calls. Robyn brought Meyer Lansky which freaked Frank out because he knew Meyer and he knew he wasn’t Robyn’s dad. I asked this guy I knew from the Peep Show named Dick Young. He said he was a sportswriter or something. What a pervert he was let me tell you. He used to whack it to a picture of Gil Hodges. Anyhoo we got all tarted up and went to Jilly’s. Oh what a night.

We were eating and drinking and laughing and circulating. It was weird because everybody was scared of Frank except for Meyer and Frank was scared shitless of Meyer for some reason. But at the end of the night somehow Joey ended up on Franks lap and Nancy ended up on the Merry Mailman and I don’t know it was getting too fuckin’ weird for me. I mean these old dudes where just pimping out their daughters for crying out loud. Robyn was in the corner peeing on Meyer and Dick Young was getting all hot and bothered. So I said my goodnights and jumped in a cab.

The next thing I know, Joey is on the Perry Como show and Dean Martin too. And she got a gig going to Vietnam with the USO with Nancy. They got thick as thieves. I mean her career was very weird. She would be on a show flirting with a guy who was old enough to be her Dad. It freaked me out if you want to know the truth. Especially that Perry Como. Man he was a definite kid toucher.
We sort of lost touch after that although she would always call me when she got in trouble. Especially when she trashed Franks house after he married Mia Farrow. I think Joey thought she was gonna get that gig. Instead she ended up with a mattress commercial.

That’s why I am so glad the W is so straight laced. He is a good daddy and watches over his girls. I hope Barry can do the same. We better help him with that. Cause you know they did invite John Edwards to the White House a few times. You have to wonder.

I better stop off and get the Enquirer.

2 comments:

ricpic said...

Joey Heatherton was the ultimate cock raiser of all time. Somewhere there's a shrine to that girl. Well...there should be.

Anonymous said...

Two great minds with but the same thought, ricpic.