Monday, May 15, 2017

May 15, 2017

Dear Diary,

Now that Jim Comey is gone, I guess it falls to Carrot Head to name a new foot stool director for the FBI.  It's not going to be an easy task, because finding someone who can take bribes from get approved by both sides of the aisle is going to take a lot of arm-twisting time.

Say what you will about Jim, he had a lot of good qualities.  For example, he was very tall. Most people don't realize that he was around six foot eight, so whenever we needed a light bulb changed, Jim was on it. Most of the time he didn't even need a chair of step stool.  You have to figure that at six foot eight, his reach extended another three feet, which is why Obozo always picked him first for the pickup basketball games at the White House.

Nobody seems to care about how misogynistic those basketball games were. No matter how many women attended, not one female was ever picked.  One time, out of pure pity, Obozo picked Robert Reich last, which was a total disaster.  Reich is shorter than a mushroom vertically challenged, so they let him be manager, but if you know him, Reich isn't exactly a team player. He kept shouting out directions until Obozo had to call a time out and remind him his job was sorting towels, not calling plays.  It could get pretty ugly.

After all that lip service to women, even Obozo chose a dwarf non-woman over a female, which I thought was disgraceful. I told him so, but he just laughed and said that running in heels would damage the varnish on the gym floor.  What an asshole.

If I were on the throne replacing Comey, the first person I'd consider would be Lindsay Graham, because he's the most like our revered FBI director,  J. Edgar Hoover.  First, Graham is a "confirmed bachelor," hint, hint, so you know he's great at keeping a secret.  To this day, I've never seen any photographs of him in a dress, which is more than I can say about Hoover. Second, Graham doesn't live with a "roommate" the way Hoover did.  That J. Edgar could never have gotten away with that stuff today.  For crying out loud, he actually lived with Clyde Tolson.  What did people think back then, that they were trading baseball cards in their one-bedroom house? Puh-leese.

I also think that Lindsay, being a military person, knows how to handle himself around a gun Senate committee members who step out of line ask the really tough questions.  During the you-know-what, he proved himself to be a very sweet but boring gentleman, droning on and on about his father's liquor store.  Big deal. My father was drunk, too, but you don't see me whining about it.  I just take my meds like a man the doctor tells me and by the time I regain consciousness, it's dinner time.

No matter who Carrot Head chooses, I can guarantee it won't be a lesbian woman.  That Janet Reno spoiled it for everyone.

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