Jul 2006
Fox news

It's a wonderful life George.

Mr. President,
I was sorting through my dvd's late last night before I hit the sack and crashed hard into a deep sleep. I had a strange dream and you were in it junior.

You were sitting in your office in the West Wing, down on your luck, your poll numbers are the lowest of your presidency and the world's leaders were openly mocking you. You wonder if life as president is worth living anymore.

Lots of Christian fundamentalists and FOX viewers noticed your plight and were praying for you until God's main angel, Joseph, heard their prayers and sent down Clarence, angel 2nd class to help you.

This last week, the American people finally took noticed of your bankrupt policies, and you had no political capital to cover the shortfall in credibility. All you had in your pocket, was a lousy fear-of-terrorism policy that was not worth very much these days.

You went to Cheney, the meanest richest most vile man in town at his dark undisclosed location and pleaded to help you get more public support, but he had less credibility that you did. You had no where to go and wondered if life in the West Wing was really worth it with such low poll numbers.
Your father warned you about Cheney, but you ignored those road signs on the campaign trail that said, "Ask your Father."

You decided to go riding on your mountain bike when you thought about taking a header hard enough to break something small like a wrist, which could get you a sympathetic bump in the polls, when suddenly this old man in a long white nightgown falls from the sky right in front of you.

"Are you all right there old guy?" You ask. "What are you doing out here where is my security detail? "I didn't fall, I jumped in front of you to stop you from hurting yourself," said Clarance.
"You shouldn't think about hurting yourself Georrge, besides you are a sadist not a masochist anyway," said Clarence. "I'm your guardian angel Clarence," he continues. "You look like the kind of angel I would get, you wouldn't know how to raise my poll numbers would you?" "No no no, we don't need poll numbers in heaven." Well they are pretty handy down here bub.

Things are so bad right now, sometimes I wish we hadn't fixed those elections to make me President. "Well, let me see; yea that could do it; you are not President," exclaimed Clarence.

I must have hit my head or sniffed some bad coke. Say something in that ear. I'll be dog gone, I haven't been able to hear from that ear since I pushed a pencil in it to get a deferment, before my daddy got me into the National Guard to avoid the Vietnam War. "Your ear is ok George," said Clarence. "You have never been born." You search through your pockets frantically. "You have no cheat-cheat with the names of your cabinet, no GOP talking points. They're not there either," said Clarence What!. "Condi's ear rings, the ones she took off before you two, ... well you know," says Clarence.
Let's go and get a drink old fella. Do you drink? I don't trust anyone that doesn't drink.

Are you hurt from your fall? If you can prove you are an American, you can sign up for my new Medicare Plan but you'll have to pay a fee. "I don't need Medicare, George, I'm your guardian angel, besides it's just a fart in the wind as far as health coverage goes. You know that" Clarence said.

Let's go to Abramoff's bar at "Signatures." Wait the sign says "Boehner's Restaurant, where is Amramoff? "Who do you say?" The bartender yells. Amramoff, you repeat. " There ain't no Amramoff here, he's in jail after getting caught. And if you know him you must be a stoolie too. We serve extremely expensive food and drink here for Republican lobbyists and corrupt Congressmen. Now do you want to make a healthy donation to the party and buy a drink or not!" He yells.

"Ok Ok, give me a beer and a bag of coke. What do you want old fella?," you say. "Ring" "Oh, did you hear that? Every time a bell rings a Democrat goes to hell," says Clarence. "OK out you two go," yells the bartender.

You run to your mother's house. An old ugly woman with white hair carefully peers out through the chained front door. "What do you want!" she yells. Mom don't you know me I'm your son, George. "I don't have a son named George, the old woman cackled. " You mean as much to me are as those people at the Superdome, now get out of here," she demanded.
You sneak into the West Wing via a secret passage you remembered, but no one is there. The room is decorated with pictures and statues of Arabian horses. Suddenly you find a name plate on your desk. It says President Michael Brown.

You read the presidential daily briefings on the desk. The Iraq war is still a disaster, thousands of Americans have been killed and injured; Iraq has been effectively leveled leaving chaos and civil war. North Korea continues to test fire their missiles, and Iran keeps building their nuclear power stations. Israel is fighting Hamas and Hezbollah at the same time. The world condemns Brown and Israel for their massive bombing of Lebanon's infrastructure killing scores of civilians. Russia is using her energy resources to have their way with the EU. Finally, China and India are gobbling as much raw material and energy sources.

The world was just like it was when you were president. It didn't make any difference if you were there or not! The government was actually run by old man Cheney from an undisclosed location! The neo-cons and radical right wing are using Michael Brown the same way they used you. They just made you think you were running the country!

What happened to Laura you ask? "I'm not supposed to tell you," said Clarence. Tell me, you demand. Tell me! "Well I hate to tell you George, but she was so homely she never married. She is an old maid closing up the Library of Congress," blurted Clarence. You run out of the White House via the same secret passage, but an alarm went off and secret service men rush into the room and pin Clarence down. "Joseph, help!" Clarence shouts. Suddenly Clarence disappears as his plastic cuffs fall onto the carpet.
Clarence reappears outside of the White House next to you. "You have been given an extraordinary gift George. A look at what would the world look like without you." Clarence said. And now you realize it didn't matter if you were president! Everyone around you created the disasters. You were just a face, a bit player someone who shook hands and raised money! You had very little say! Everything was scripted and stage managed. But, on the bright side. You didn't have to work at all. You suddenly realize everything you have been doing was busy work to keep you out of the neo-con's hair! "You had a pretty easy life George," Clarence said.
You fall on your knees close your eyes and pray to your God. "I want to be president again, I want to be president again! " you pray.

You open your eyes in time to see anti-war demonstrators approach and decide to run back into the White House where you are greeted by Turd Blossom, Karl Rove. Where have you been Mr. President? he asks.

Do you recognize me Turd? Why sure, you are supposed to go to Pennsylvania and stump for Santorum; he's in deep shit." said Rove "That's great!" you exclaimed.

You run to the West Wing and are greeted by Laura and your drunken daughters. Jenna and Barbara Bush "Hiyyyyy daddy," they slur. "Oh George," Laura blurts out something wonderful has happened. "Oh good reporters heh heh." you scream. "Cheney threatened to fund their opposition in the next election, so all the Republican congressmen have agreed to support your Iraq war budget isn't it wonderful. That should boost your poll numbers for a little while!" Laura exclaims. And you also remember, you have a month-long vacation starting in two weeks!
Your family closes in around you.
Suddenly, Jenna Bush hears bells ringing in her ears "Heyyyyy daddy, I just heard bells, an and you know what! Every time, time a bell ringssssh a Democrat goes (hickup) to hell," she slurs.
"That's right Jenna, that's right. It's a wonderful life after all! Atta boy Clarence!" you cheer as Condi sneaks up behind you and gives you a sly wink.

I woke up ran into the living room, grabbed my copy of the Frank Capra classic and burned it in my Weber grill.

From: comments@whitehouse.gov
Date: July 20, 2006 6:58:20 PM CDT
To: guzmatom@mac.com

On behalf of President Bush, thank you for your correspondence.
We appreciate hearing your views and welcome your suggestions.
Due to the large volume of e-mail received, the White House is
unable to respond to every message, and therefore this response
is an autoreply.

Thank you again for taking the time to write.