Sometimes, usually before Bessie brings in my morning meds, I think about what life would have brought had I things turned out differently for me. People would have called me
Of course, I've spread out a bit since Bill's reign administration. I'd probably have to get the chair widened, but there are people who do that.
One of the events I would have liked to enjoy after my
I guess Carrot Head decided to skip the dinner, which doesn't surprise me at all. Mr. Big Talker is pretty good at dishing it out, but when it comes to taking it, he doesn't have half my experience of being a joke. They should have stuck Alec Baldwin up there. He's supposed to be funny.
If I had been on that dais, I'd have traded all kinds of good-natured barbs with the reporters. That's why I had Donna Brasile make up a list of zingers for the occasion last year. Some of my favorites were:
"I know you are, but what am I?"
"What does it matter"
See? I can be funny.
I can take a joke too. Unless it's about my weight or how I'm built like an inverted light bulb. That stuff is strictly off limits. So are jokes about Chelsea. I already know she's not going to win any beauty contests and that she's not exactly Einstein. I don't need the whole country chattering about that. Also, no jokes about how she broke our hearts when she married the only money-losing Jew in the world.
Dr. Morell says that my days in public office are probably over, though. So there's almost no chance of my getting in front of those reporters again. Maybe we can do something for Mother's Day. I should call that whore Debbie Wasserman-Schultz. She owes me.