What Laura Bush Should Have Said (Rude Version):
What we all wish Laura Bush had said at the White House Correspondents' Dinner, where she cracked wise about the President and male strippers:

"Jesus Christ, yes, I'm a Desperate Housewife - I'm just tryin' to figure out which one. Maybe I'm Lynette, because I am addicted to the twins' Ritalin. No, no, that's not true- Ritalin would ruin the buzz from my Xanax/Prozac cocktail that keeps me smilin', smilin' happy all the time. Or maybe I'm Gabrielle, because, yes, I am fucking the seventeen year-old White House pool boy. No, no, that's not true, although I have been the cream in the Oreo of a Colin Powell/Rod Paige cookie. I shouldn't say that since George has been creaming on Condi's coffee for so long he can barely get it hard without me blacking my face and painting a gap between my teeth. No, no, seriously, when Condi, Lynne Cheney, and I went out one night to see the Chippendale's dancers, I've never seen a woman down as much choad as Lynne. At one point, there were so many cocks thrusting in her face that I commented that she looked like a water bowl in a snake pit. 'Oh, you better make that a python cage,' Lynne said before deep-throating one monster dick, and not her husband's. Her new Secret Service name is 'Shiny Teeth.' Oh, but I kid, I kid Lynne and, you know, it's ridiculous to say anything like that about Condi 'cause she's gay. Oh, no, she's not, at least not when she comes up for air from munching on Mary Cheney. Uh-oh, George is gonna be powerful mad that I revealed his jerk-off fantasy. Don't worry, honey, I won't tell them about the time I caught you masturbating to that picture of your mother, the one where you said you wanted to give her a pearl necklace because she wasn't wearing one. Sooo hot. Now I know some of you think that my mother-in-law is a nice, Aunt Bea type, but she's really more like Don Corleone, if Don Corleone wanted to fuck Sonny. The first time George and I practiced makin' babies, we woke up with the head of a longhorn steer in our bed. And I'm proud to say to you and to Mama Bush that those horns are now my favorite dildos. No, no, I don't masturbate. George has told the Secret Service to shoot me if I do. George is such a control freak that the last time he was fucking me from behind he called one of my ass cheeks Iran and the other one Iraq, except he kept gettin' confused which one was which, so he turned me over and plunged into North Korea. No, no, that's not true. George wouldn't know how to find North Korea with a map and a big arrow pointing to it. It's 'cause he's so stupid, see? That's the joke. Isn't that funny? The joke's on you, on me, and now I better go 'cause I see some of Mama Bush's goons sharpening their axes to take out Spotty. Ya'll be good and, hey, Anderson Cooper, meet me backstage so I can show you the where the real Bush is."

Media On the Run:
Sweet merciful motherfucker, the Rude Pundit is so fuckin' glad that there's no more war in Iraq and the soldiers have returned home, the Social Security debate is over, the terrorists are on the run, Tom DeLay's crawlin' under a porch lookin' for termites, the public education system's been fixed, North Korea's handed over all its nuclear technology and opened itself up to inspections, Donald Rumsfeld and Dick Cheney are tryin' to figure out who's gonna be the top in their shared prison cell (the smart money's on Cheney), and more, more, so much more, so that we could waste, waste, fuckin' waste hours upon hours of television news time on a crazy goddamned bug-eyed bride-not-to-be who lied about being kidnapped. Because otherwise, it'd be pretty fuckin' stupid, wouldn't it?

This time it's worse - it's worse than Michael Jackson, Laci Peterson, Robert Blake, and Chandra Levy because it ain't about jack motherfuckin' shit, not even a crime, not even a celebrity, not even a politician - it's about the committing of a misdemeanor by an idiot in order to fool other idiots, but its massive, overwhelming coverage only reveals who the real idiots are. At one point, Sunday morning, all three "news" networks were doing long pieces on who-the-fuck-cares-what-her-name-is, interviewing "experts" about why someone wouldn't want to get married, why would someone claim they were kidnapped and, no, really, truly, who the fuck cares.

Do you think Wolf Blitzer can look at himself in the mirror anymore? Do you think he wants to hock a loogie at his own reflection because he knows, he fuckin' knows that that's what he deserves from the rest of us? Do you think he knows how much harm he does or does the bell ring and he just obeys?