Let's play the game of "On the Job With ..... "

[Stinky The Clown]

Watching that Townsend woman blather on at her presser earlier today, I was set to wondering .... what is a day on her job like?

Does she sit around in a fancy White House office initialing memos and issuing Homeland Security dogma? Does she read newspapers on our dime? Does she have meetings all day? Does she do her own e-mail? To whom? Is it job a real job or is she just another propagandist?

This has the makings of a fun game.

Pick a personage and imagine what a day on the job with them might be like.

[flying rabbit]

1. Cheney

Wake up, throw small baby in blender, for morning repast.

Go to undisclosed location, check puppet strings.

Dispatch minions to ensure puppets are still attached.

Count money.

Sneer.

Suck blood of virgins for lunch.

Check on death star progress.

Sneer.

Count money.

Figures what country to invade next.

Couple of drinks with *.

Count money.

Sneer.

Dinner: Domino's(vegetarian, gotta watch the ticker)

Put on bunny slippers, pray to Mammon, nighty-nite.

Wake up in the middle of the night.

Count money.

Sneer.

[NanceGreggs]

2. Inhofe

Wake up, get out of bed.

Bang head against wall over and over, ensuring that any cogent thought processes or common sense that may have seeped into the brain are shaken loose.

Repeat as necessary throughout the day.

[Sparkly]

3. Condi

Breakfast with husb-- er, Chimpy.

Practice Beethoven Sonata.

Memorize Rove's Script du Jour.

Grade Chimpy's homework on "Forinn Policy."

Lunch with some visitor guy with an accent.

Shoe-shopping! Wheee!!!

Practice Chopin Etude.

[rhombus]

4. John Boehner

Wakes up, heads to the tannning salon.

Before heading to bed, spends an hour on the tanning bed.

[razors edge]

5. Bush's personal aid.

Get to work by 5am.

Put training wheels back on segway.

Remove all pictures of Democrats and horses from view.

Mix presidential morning bloody marry, double.

Lie to Babs on phone, he's busy right now...

Rouse Condi from Lincoln bedroom and sneak her out back door, again.

Read Chaney's orders to President, then explain them.

Check with fund raiser advance team, all checks cleared, all loyalty oaths signed, all protesters tased and video taped for later comic relief.

Hand off to SS for transport and sanity break. Check Monster dot com job prospects. Shred documents, erase e-mails, clean Barney's shit out of Presidential slippers, send geranimals and underoos to laundry, flush last nights puke down bide and clean up blood from nasty slip and fall, empty nine ashtrays. Berate Maria for taking so long with the other bedrooms and not getting here sooner.

Chill nine cases of Milwaukee's Best, start twelve racks of spare ribs on smoker, slip out to rose garden and smoke a splif.

Run into Gannon and Rove exiting remote conference room, again, and remind Jeff to put his shirt back on, again.

Pay Maria her twelve bucks and fire her for not properly dusting Saddam's pistol on the wall, call Merry-Maids, on speed dial, again.

Check Bolivian marching powder supply, (and quality) lay out tonights underoos and geranimals, load protesters DVD delivered from currier, also put up Hotel Rwanda in case president is in a joking mood and is looking for laughs, change batteries in Rove's remote mind control base unit near bed, Refill First Lady's prescription bottles with Canadian pills.

Help president from limo in basement, drunk, again, escort to close by private office for blood test to determine best anecdote, call info to Surgeon General and proceed to pump stomach, again, inject pre-dosed syringe labeled #16, monitor heart rate for seventeen minutes until back on feet.

Retire president to bedroom for reanimation, Bolivian blo working, escort to dinner in Mexicali room, order Taco Bell and give ribs to staff, I disappear and shotgun three Milwaukee's Best, finish off blo, for his own good.

Escort president back to bedroom, he requests I arrange viewing of Faces of Death part seventy-two, Baghdad Morgue Outtakes, I rush to retrieve from Rumsfeld's secret office only to find Kissinger and three street whores watching the only copy, he refuses to relinquish it over the pleading of the sickened street walkers, and I return with Abu-Ghraib part two, the hidden years.

I return to find the president on the phone to the First Lady who has not returned from her 9am tennis match with Hans, he informs me her car has broken down and she is being put up for the night by a nice farmer whom she asked for help. I put in the movie and before the credits finish ask to be dismissed due to a sore stomach, (never lie to the president) he wishes me a good night and relaxes back in his bedside recliner with a half gallon of Gentleman Jack, as I reach the door he says to me "I'm dooin the rawt thng in Urak donch ya thank? "You will go DOWN in history for it Mr President", I reply, never lie to the president.

Please help me Monster dot com.