And now, the end is near;
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I’ll say it clear,
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain
Dear Poppi:
 Just
in case, I thought I’d spend one last week at
Camp Kennebunkport.
Maybe I can catch that last undecided voter here in
Maryland? Maybe the Astros have one last chance to get
in the World Series?
Well, like the war on terror, I guess my electoral future
is still “up in the air. “
But then, who cares about some stupid election exercise.
Dick says our October surprise will get us across the
final hump. Fortunately, one of our campaign aides was
able to intercept a letter from John Kerry to Monica
Lewinsky, promising to appoint her as his Secretary
of Health & Human Services. I had always thought
that the Democrats would name her the first Secretary
of White House Peace.
I’m beginning to know how you must have felt back
in ’92 when you were getting ready for a huge
thrashing by the Zipperman. We thought Elvis was down
for the election count when Ashcroft found some more
suggestive pictures in that Arkansas dumpster, but now
he’s got a brand new heart (and hopefully a stronger
zipper) and is back telling black folks that I’m
distributing the ‘politics of fear.’
It’s about time them black folks feared me…
my Christian friends sure do.
It’s just a week before God and some special agents
in Florida will resurrect my career and keep the World
Court lawyers with indictments at bay. Just because
I invaded a silly little country with oil wells, people
are up in arms! Can you imagine that? Even Pat Robertson
is accusing me of being insensitive!
Well, once we get this dumb election out of the way,
we’re going to make sure the world fears us. We’re
going to add Iran to our Iraqi holdings (wouldn’t
it be funny if we took their leaders hostage?) and then
we’re going to make pre-emptive strikes at every
socialist encampment from Sweden to the East Village.
Even if the “gubernator” doesn’t cooperate
in California, we’re going to burn down the Reichstag
building in Sacramento and blame it on the Democrats!
Before you know it, this country will look more like
Texas – with purple mountain Wal-Marts and amber
waves of pork rinds. No more Boston Red Sox, we’re
going to move them to Amarillo and learn them that justice
west of the Pecos is worse than the curse of the Bambino.
Of course we’ll expand our base as we move in
our big guns. First we’ll get the gay folks to
support us by moving them into their own little private
island, right where the Hanford Nuclear Dump is today.
We’ll tell them that they can get married if they
fulfill the 10-year-residency requirements – of
course they’ll die of radiation poisoning before
then.
Then we’ll turn Beserkeley into a commune for
overgrown hippies and set off that nuclear device under
the San Andreas fault. We’ll move the US Capitol
out of the District of Columbia to Midland, and before
long we’ll paint all the states in the Union red.
It’s a good thing I never mistakes, or I would
never have figured this all out.
Your young ‘un,
Georgie
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Last Letter from Camp Kennebunkport?