Laura Bush's Diary

My goodness they are making such a big fuss about a silly little cartoon. I mean Barry O hasn’t said anything but everyone else is all upset. When you are president you have to used to the fact that people are going to call you names and make fun of you in nasty and hateful cartoons. I mean they called W the ChimpyMcHitler for the whole eight years we were in the White House. W just let is slide off his back since he doesn’t sweat the small stuff. He is all man and knows who he is. And that we love each other and no one can come between us. I hope Barry O and Michelle have the same relationship because not only will they write and draw nasty things but all of their old girlfriends and boy friends will be coming out of the wood work to get a payday.

Now we had the same problems early in our marriage. I mean W was a wild man before we got married. He was always dating actresses because he was going through a JFK phase where he was hot to trot. I mean he can tell you stories of how he boned Anita Gillette on the set of the her Broadway show and how he used to get head from Joyce Bulifant when he visited the set of the Match Game. Charles Nelson Reilly kept trying to get into his pants but W had to let him know firmly but nicely that he didn’t go that way. You see W had a type. The slim tiny meek girl next door type. The only one who I was really ever jealous of was Sandy Duncan. W loved to bang that bug eyed bitch. I think she kind of reminded him of his mom in a sick way. Anyway they broke up when W banged her so hard that one of her eyes popped out. They broke up after that and we started keeping company. It was time for both of us to settle down.

You see I was no shrinking violet either. I mean there was the time I spent with Bo Belinksy in Anaheim and the three ways we used to have with Mamie Van Doren. And the six months I hung out with Sly Stone before he dropped me for that whore Doris Day. But there was only one man who ever really lit my fire the way W did. And that was my monkey. My monkey man. My Gorilla Monsoon.

You see after that night in the Roosevelt Hotel where I had such a great time with Gorilla and Chief Jay Strongbow, well the Gorilla and I kept in touch. And I mean in touch. Look at this old photo of the Gorilla when he was coming out to the ring. Even with an athletic supporter you can tell that he was packing some serious monkey meat. Boy whenever he rassled in Houston or I went up to New York we would get together for some rassling of our own. We both knew it could never be a long term thing. I mean I was a Texas debutant and he was an immigrant wrestler from parts unknown. It was just that one big part of his that kept me coming back. And coming and coming back if you know what I mean.

I still miss Gorilla. We used to bathe together and he loved to comb my hair. He was very gentle for a 300 pound shaved down primate. We still correspond but he has always remained so very discreet. So I don’t care how many cartoons they do, or what they try and make him out to be. I knew a Gorilla. I slept with a Gorilla. And Barry Obama you sir are no gorilla.