That’s what we’re looking at here — one long-ass week until Gen. George Armstrong Bush (Texas Air Farce, ret.) returns to shitting in his own nest instead of yours and mine.
I have assiduously avoided reading, listening to or watching any stories about his farewell tour, which has lasted longer than many a banana-republic dictatorship, foreign film or Russian novel. I never cared what he had to say when he was The Decider, and nobody cares what he has to say as the lamest of lame ducks in the history of lame duckdom, our ADHD national media aside. I simply want him gone, long gone, and Darth Cheney with him.
I plan to buy an expensive bottle of French wine soon and store it safely away for the day when I will be able to pull its cork, drink deeply and then piss on both their graves. Houston is too good for the sonofabitch. Let him pedal that Trek of his around the Lake of Fire for eternity, with Beelzebub just seconds back and closing fast.
That said, it will be strange not to loathe and despise the occupant of the Oval Office for the first time in — well, in quite some time. The only president I ever revered was JFK (hey, I was an Irish-American, all of 9 years old when he died, and anyway he boinked Marilyn Monroe). And the only presidential candidates I was ever truly enthusiastic about were Bobby Kennedy and George McGovern, and you will recall how their campaigns ended.
Jimmy Carter I like much better as an ex-president than I did as a president, and I hope the swine who swiped his bicycle gets a tainted rock from his crack dealer and sets his pointy skull ablaze. Bill Clinton seemed even more like a used-car salesman than Nixon did, and so I never voted for him.
In fact, I blame Bubba for the past eight years. If he could’ve just sworn off fat chicks for eight years, we might not be in this fix today, with the Republic in ruins, the economy circling the bowl and just one largely untested skinny dude from Illinois on hand to clean up the wreckage.
More power to his arm. He’ll need it.
Mad Blog Media 
Agree on Bubba. He really screwed the pooch for the rest of us. If he were bedding down with someone looking like Hallie Berry, I could understand…
I am pretty sure Jimmy Carter’s bike was stolen by this guy:
http://baltimorebicycleworks.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-i-thought-al-gore-had-something.html
Where did you get the idea that Bush was going to Houston? Believe me I would much rather that he go to Houston and let them deal with him, but unfortunately the Shrub will be living in Dallas less than 14 miles as the bike flies from my house in Garland.
Oh shit. Don’t send him here to Houston. It’s so unbelievably bad here already. Kay Bailey was a TV journalist here before she became a brilliant U.S. Senator. She’s threatening to come back if this Texas Governor thing she’s trying on in Austin doesn’t work out. This is the poisoned soil that spawned Tom Delay. The Bakers are here. Bush Senior lives 10 minutes from my house. Countless Saudi princes and Dubai sheikhs come here to bang high-dollar whores at the Hotel Derek, Allah be praised. The air smells like diesel and egg salad and burns your skin and lungs like battery acid. Former Enron employees are still here (the ones who aren’t in jail) and they’re fucking up everybody else’s companies now. KennyBoy’s family still haunts these parts and claims his innocence.
If oil keeps sitting at $35/barrel, our fair town will soon be littered by abandoned McMansions of faux stucco on desolate golf courses. And Mission Accomplished will come to visit the family for Christmas and won’t see or smell or understand any of it.
Oh nevermind. What’s one more pimple on the hairy ass we like to call home. Come on down, Mr. President. You’re welcome to our fair car lot/strip mall anytime.
How the hell did I get the idea that Numbnuts was retiring to Houston? I’m sure I read it somewhere. Goddamn lefty-loony MSM, always getting shit wrong. Opus, Jeff, you have my sympathy. When I was a sprout on Randolph AFB outside San Antone, we had to contend with LBJ jetting in and out. But having Numbnuts flying in must feel like being at ground zero as a retarded turkey buzzard with bowel issues flaps spastically overhead.
I made sure I missed the speech rather than having neighbors calling in the men in white coats while listing to me rant and foam at the mouth. Bud did catch snippets on Public Radio.
GWB still doesn’t seem to understand quite how badly he buggered the pooch. As though Lady Liberty was one of those drunk chicks who you keep passing around all night between Brothers Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, DeLay, and Lay et al., over lots of beer, not much thinking, and loud music at the I Fukka Uppa frat party during Rush Week.