Sunday, February 19, 2017

February 19, 2017

Dear Diary,

I think I'm beginning to finally level off.  It's been a long three months since the you-know-what and I've been through a lot. I haven't really been out of the house at all, but I have managed to make my way to the bathroom and where I come from, that's progress. During the last three house calls, Dr. Morell hasn't found the Jack Daniels one time, so either he's getting dumber or I'm getting sharper! For some of that I have to give credit to First Lady Betty Ford.  She's the one who told me, "You never hide one bottle, you always hide three.  That way, if they find one, they stop looking!"

That Betty Ford was some smart cookie.  She really made something out of being a First Lady.  I recall that when she was living in the White House, the big thing was CB radios.  Everyone had CB radios with nicknames or "handles."  Betty was "First Mama," which made her very hip with kids and blue collar nimrods working people.  Well, not all kids.  I guess mostly those little people gooked-out mongoloids like in "Deliverance" Americans who lived in the midwest.  You know, people who drive trucks with silhouettes of large-breasted women on their mud flaps.

CB radios were popular before there was an internet, especially with truckers who used to call out to each other as they drove across country, looking for cheap highway hookers and drugs warning each other about traffic jams and "smokey," which is what they called cops in those days.  I must be reaching back to the seventies, because Burt Reynolds was all over everything in those days.  He was such a hairy pig.  Thought he was all it.  My girlfriend at the time couldn't stop talking about him and it made me so angry.  These days, Burt looks less hunky and more like a scarecrow with a bird's nest on his head, and that girlfriend died in a horrible wood chipper accident, so guess who won that little wrestling match, eh diary?   Shhh.  It's our secret.

Anyway, everyone in the country seemed to love Betty Ford, who really broke the mold for future First Ladies.  Then they shit-canned Gerry in 1976 and all hell broke loose. Next thing you know, she was drying out in Palm Springs with one less breast and no visitors for a month.  At least she got a drug treatment center named after her.  I guess that's sort of a legacy.  Maybe.

Betty was a real lady.  So now you can understand why I get more than a little steamed when I see Carrot Head's little Russian whore citing the Lord's Prayer at one of his rallies.  Of course she can stand up there in her size six designer dress and look all put together.  Her husband lets her spend bazillions on botox and Brazilian blowouts.  Whenever I ask about a facelift, Bill just laughs and tells me to wait because medical care is free in prison.

More later. Bessie is snooping around the bookshelves.

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