So I was sitting around the porch smoking a spliff with Jenna when W came running out from his den. Jenna palmed it and dropped it in the flower pot on the deck. She’s quick that way and she didn’t want her Daddy to get pissed. Ever since W went sober he gets real disappointed when he sees anyone lighting up. That’s why he was always kinda pissed at Cheney all the time. He would always be lighting up a Philly Blunt with some weed in it. It was the only thing that took the edge off.
So anyway he was bursting with it. “Laura you won’t believe this shit. Barry is really fuckin up this thing down in New Orleans. That oil well is just spewing out oil like nobodies business. He can’t get it capped. It’s just coming out and there ain’t no stopping it. They say they are getting Kevin Costner’s company to cap this gusher. Waddaya think of them apples?”
I had to laugh at that one. “Well shitfire W if they are calling a Hollywood pussy to cap a gusher they better dig up old Milton Berle and put him on the case. Just like old Poppy did.” W looked at me and then started to laugh so hard he doubled over. “Damnation Laura, I forgot all about that. I guess you’re right as rain. Too bad Uncle Miltie is toes up he had the pipe to cap that well.”
You see I might have mentioned that W and his daddy had a lot of things in common. Now everybody knows that they were both Presidents and fought a war against Iraq and a whole bunch of political shit that wasn’t all that important. But the one thing that set them apart is there love of water sports. Not volleyball or any of that gay shit. You know they like it when women pee on them.
Anyhoo they both love a woman with a good flow. Now it is always a balance between attractiveness and the amount of pee they could do when they are doing the dirty deed. When W and I were first going out we would compare notes about our exploits. I told him about Gorilla Monsoon’s monkey “hand” so to speak and he would talk about Sandy Duncan. She would strain and strain and barely come up with a cup of pee. Which was one of the reasons they broke up. Other than the fact she didn’t like when W tried to fuck her empty eye socket. So that sort of worked out for me.
Well we went from talking about our exploits to that of people we know and W went on and on about his Dad. You know Poppy was quite the cocksman in his early days. But that wasn’t what was funny. It was the famous story of what happened at the Tony Awards in 1972. You see Poppy was the UN ambassador and was hanging around backstage because he had invested in a couple of Broadway shows with Josh Logan and liked to meet the occasional show girl with a big bladder. So he is standing there and Robert Morse comes over and says “Ambassador I want to introduce to someone. Meet Carol Channing.” “Well Hello Dolly” said the ever so suave Poppy. They flirted back and forth while the show was going on and it started to get hot. Well old Carol took Poppy back to her dressing room and they started to go at. Now Poppy was really excited because they used to call her “Camel Channing” because her capacity for pee was legendary. So they get naked and Carol straddles his face and let loose. But there was one problem. She just couldn’t stop. She kept peeing and peeing and screaming and peeing and it was a total disaster.
They heard the noise backstage and finally one of the stage hands had to break down the door. When they burst in the door they saw the gusher and poor Poppy who was gasping for breath. They had to plug that hole so he could wiggle his way to safety because the force of it was keeping him pinned to the floor. It was like a natural disaster. They didn’t know what to do. Finally Red Buttons came up with the answer. “There is only one thing that can plug that hole. Get Uncle Miltie!”
You see that was the answer. Milton Berle was legendary for having the biggest shavtz in show business. They went and dragged him out of his seat and he unstrapped and plugged up that hole long enough for Poppy to wiggle his way to freedom. That’s the real reason why Ronnie Reagan gave him the Medal of Freedom. Poppy owed him big time.
W and I just laughed and laughed. “It’s a shame that Uncle Miltie is dead or Barry could send him down to Louisiana. That would work about as well as everything else he has tried so far.” “You are damn right W. You know what? Maybe they should give Tommie Lee a call. If he can touch the sides on that hose bag Pamela Anderson he might just fit the bill. I will give Michele a call and suggest it.”
Plug it up indeed.
