The Wiping of the Presidential Ass:
As we machete through the jungle of this long, long, long, so goddamn, so painfully fucking long election, perhaps a question voters ought to be concerned with is this: do we want a president who needs to have his ass wiped? See, when babies, toddlers, even pre-schoolers take a shit, they either need to have a grown up wipe completely for them or to check to see that they've wiped well enough. And certainly, with his overwhelming need for his pillow (see Monday, March 22's entry), his food tasters, his security perimeter wherever he visits or speaks, his lack of press conferences, and more have established George W. Bush to be the Toddler-in-Chief: protected, getting into trouble whenever he takes a few steps on his own, not wanting anyone to play with his toys unless he knows he'll get punished for not sharing.

The Toddler-in-Chief is going to be able to have his hand held when he "visits" with the 9/11 commission behind closed doors and not under oath. See, as part of the deal that allowed house negro Condi Rice to testify is this, from the letter, "the deal" made by White House counsel Alberto "I Already Feel the Fires of Hell on My Toes" Gonzales: "[T]he President and Vice President have agreed to one joint private session with all 10 Commissioners." There it is: George will get to sit on Dick's lap and be told to be quiet when he talks out of turn. It's a fuckin' joke, isn't it? What's the fear in them appearing separately? They seem to have no trouble fitting every fundraiser, including the combined Crack Whores/Corporate Lobbyists for Bush/Satan, into their schedules. But let's not be that charitable: let's instead say that Rove, Hughes, et al have decided that nothing could be worse than having Bush sitting there in his stinky diaper, the commissioners holding their noses at the stench, with no one to change the President's Pampers.

A P.S. to this: Daddy Bush was decalcified and sent out to speak on Jr.'s behalf, getting "emotional" about everyone beating up on his boy. One always has to cringe when a Yale-educated, mansion-living, Daddy's fortune-spending faux average guy talks about the "elite" of this country. And one must cringe even more when the President needs his Daddy to fight his battles for him.