Big Guy is really annoyed this morning. He's sad, too, because Ted Kennedy died. But mostly, he's pissed. And I can understand why: what's with all this crap happening while he's on vacation?
He had to re-appoint Ben Bernanke, which was a hassle, because Ben was on vacation on the whole other side of Martha's Vineyard. So Ben has to ride across the island for a presser. News. Then Big Guy has to meet with his Cabinet to discuss Middle East peace. And most of his Cabinet is vacationing on estates two or three towns over. So it takes 20 or 30 minutes to get everyone together. More news. And that's time Big O could be spending on our little practice putting range out back.
Then Holder decides to sic the cops on the CIA, and Holder isn't even on Martha's Vineyard he's on the Cape ... so that takes a whole hour to pull together. More, more news. That's time Michelle and Big Guy could be doing more productive things, like toning their pecs and arms.
Then Kennedy passes. Way too much news, and probably more talk about Big Guy's health care plan, though now we can shape the news by naming the legislation after Ted, which will mean every Democrat with a soul - or what passes for one in Congress -will have to vote for it. So that's good news, kind of, but I digress.
The point here is that Big Guy ordered that no news be made while he was resting up for making more news two weeks from now. And people here have been too busy vacationing and not busy enough preventing news from happening. All I know is that I've had a lot of newsmaking words scrolling across my screens, which is difficult with all the sun screen slathered on my with oily fingerprints. It's not a good look for me. Kind of like that tankini Michelle had on yesterday during the Bernanke newser.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Beach Bum
Big Guy and the family and I were on our way up to Martha's Vineyard yesterday, when Joe Biden called. He said that he was surprised that Big O had invited half of the press corps up to Martha's Vineyard, but had not him.
As of now, he told Big Guy, his only plans were to spend time in his bunker and watch DVDs of "Monk" since he needs to watch the show at least three times to figure out who committed the crime. This also explains the portable DVD player he brings to Cabinet meetings, which he calls his "laptop without keys," but I digress.
Big Guy said he was sorry about not extending the invitation, and said if Biden could catch a ride, he was welcome to stay with us. Joey said it wasn't a problem; he was already there, having caught a ride with the Secret Service advance team. So guess who has to sleep with him. Right now Bo is looking pretty appealing.
The plans for today are to the Vineyard "Clinton-style ... but without the interns." Big Guy will play a round of golf, take the family down the road for ice cream, invite the press for a clam bake to hear James Taylor perform on the beach, and maybe we'll have Barbra Streisand drop by, too, for another photo op.
Oh, and he'll release his vacation reading list, which will have on it at least five books written by obscure African-American authors, one collection of poems written by a leftist Central American poet, and a book by a self-hating white lesbian economist, who wishes she were a self-hating, Harvard-tenured, African-American lesbian economist.
But he will really just be reading the latest Dan Brown thriller.
As of now, he told Big Guy, his only plans were to spend time in his bunker and watch DVDs of "Monk" since he needs to watch the show at least three times to figure out who committed the crime. This also explains the portable DVD player he brings to Cabinet meetings, which he calls his "laptop without keys," but I digress.
Big Guy said he was sorry about not extending the invitation, and said if Biden could catch a ride, he was welcome to stay with us. Joey said it wasn't a problem; he was already there, having caught a ride with the Secret Service advance team. So guess who has to sleep with him. Right now Bo is looking pretty appealing.
The plans for today are to the Vineyard "Clinton-style ... but without the interns." Big Guy will play a round of golf, take the family down the road for ice cream, invite the press for a clam bake to hear James Taylor perform on the beach, and maybe we'll have Barbra Streisand drop by, too, for another photo op.
Oh, and he'll release his vacation reading list, which will have on it at least five books written by obscure African-American authors, one collection of poems written by a leftist Central American poet, and a book by a self-hating white lesbian economist, who wishes she were a self-hating, Harvard-tenured, African-American lesbian economist.
But he will really just be reading the latest Dan Brown thriller.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Vacation
Apparently Toes left for vacation to Florida a day early. Big Guy, Lady M and I are headed to Martha's Vineyard after an overnight at Camp David. I'm really looking forward to this; it's been a while since I got a chance to serve as Big Guy's sunscreen, and we need some guy time.
This has been a tough summer, what with all the plots, counter-plots, backbiting, conspiracy theories, surreptitious email monitoring, and FBI surveillances, and that's just to figure out what the hell Hillary Clinton's been doing for the past three months.
Big Guy kind of wee-weed on the idea earlier today, but he'll definitely be seeing Sen. Ted Kennedy while we're on Martha's Vineyard. We've had this Medal of Freedom laying around gathering dust and we have to get rid of it. Which is what Gibbsy says one of Big O's death panels would probably say about Teddy right about now.
Check back in on Monday, I got outfitted with nifty wi-fi, so I'll be blogging from the beach!
This has been a tough summer, what with all the plots, counter-plots, backbiting, conspiracy theories, surreptitious email monitoring, and FBI surveillances, and that's just to figure out what the hell Hillary Clinton's been doing for the past three months.
Big Guy kind of wee-weed on the idea earlier today, but he'll definitely be seeing Sen. Ted Kennedy while we're on Martha's Vineyard. We've had this Medal of Freedom laying around gathering dust and we have to get rid of it. Which is what Gibbsy says one of Big O's death panels would probably say about Teddy right about now.
Check back in on Monday, I got outfitted with nifty wi-fi, so I'll be blogging from the beach!
Monday, August 17, 2009
Thar She Blows ...
Big Guy and I took the family to see the Grand Canyon and Old Faithful over the weekend. A fun time was had by just about everyone. The Grand Canyon on Sunday was awe-inspiring, but Big Guy's mood darkened a bit when our tour guide mentioned that it used to be the national debt could barely fill the canyon, and now it probably fits just right. As a result, we shortened our stay there from about the planned seven hours to about four. And I think our guide is now now the head ranger at the "national park" in Leavenworth, Kansas.
While most of us had a good time at the Grand Canyon, my time at Yellowstone on Saturday wasn't quite as enjoyable. I mean, I don't mind being used as a crutch by Big O; after all, we go way back, and I am critical to this administration's operation. But on Saturday I didn't appreciate having my screen used as a makeshift umbrella by House Speaker Nancy Pelosi when Old Faithful blew. I guess it was just instinctive; maybe she feared that if she got wet she'd melt.
While most of us had a good time at the Grand Canyon, my time at Yellowstone on Saturday wasn't quite as enjoyable. I mean, I don't mind being used as a crutch by Big O; after all, we go way back, and I am critical to this administration's operation. But on Saturday I didn't appreciate having my screen used as a makeshift umbrella by House Speaker Nancy Pelosi when Old Faithful blew. I guess it was just instinctive; maybe she feared that if she got wet she'd melt.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Heading Home
What a day in New Hampshire. Big Guy decides to ad lib one of his patented comparative examples to simply things for the simple country folk we were talking to today, and he goes off script to do it. Wow.
Of course, comparing Big O's health care plan to the post office makes sense ... if you're talking about the dead letter office. That'll teach him to go off script.
Of course, comparing Big O's health care plan to the post office makes sense ... if you're talking about the dead letter office. That'll teach him to go off script.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Short and Sweet
I'm pretty excited, because I got a new hard drive today. Big Guy and I had been using my old one for about 18 months, and given the amount of usage, a weekly defragmentation wasn't helping. Big Guy has so much to say, and only so much time to say it, and my slower scroll just wasn't helping.
So Rahm approved the $1.5 million request for my new hard drive. That said, Big Guy understood what this last hard drive meant to him. After all, it saw us through Iowa and the other caucuses we won, and the primaries we lost. It saw us through numerous chats on the phone with supporters when Big Guy couldn't think of a thing to say, and those date nights with Lady M when Big Guy was too exhausted to think of anything clever to say.
So we brought our White House end of life counselor around to sit with the hard drive to talk about the cost of adding new memory and upgrading its peripherals. Now, granted, doing all of that would have cost the taxpayer about $572.45. But the paperwork was much more complicated than the RFP for a new hard drive. So Big Guy did the only thing he could do; after all, what was good enough for his grandmother is good enough for his hard drive.
I just wish he hadn't sent Toes to pull the plug; he enjoys doing that a little too much.
So Rahm approved the $1.5 million request for my new hard drive. That said, Big Guy understood what this last hard drive meant to him. After all, it saw us through Iowa and the other caucuses we won, and the primaries we lost. It saw us through numerous chats on the phone with supporters when Big Guy couldn't think of a thing to say, and those date nights with Lady M when Big Guy was too exhausted to think of anything clever to say.
So we brought our White House end of life counselor around to sit with the hard drive to talk about the cost of adding new memory and upgrading its peripherals. Now, granted, doing all of that would have cost the taxpayer about $572.45. But the paperwork was much more complicated than the RFP for a new hard drive. So Big Guy did the only thing he could do; after all, what was good enough for his grandmother is good enough for his hard drive.
I just wish he hadn't sent Toes to pull the plug; he enjoys doing that a little too much.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Let's Be Clear ... We're Broke
So I went down to the White House Mess for some lunch yesterday (I drew the short straw for Sunday "worship" this past weekend), and I was told that my meal account had been closed as of Friday. How could this be, I asked the Naval staffer who was working the tables. After all, I pay my tab and cover my guests just like the rules state. But the waiter said for now we all have to brownbag it.
You see, the White House blew it's budget. We're broke, in the red, bone dry, without a penny to our name, nothing in the tank or the bank, Fitty Cent is a friend and our budget balance ... you get the drift. But never fear, we're doing what we can to make do.
You may have heard that we're now charging guests at the White House who eat with Big Guy. Toes takes the credit card numbers, and then rounds up the $29.99 we charge for the "Blue State Special" and hopes the guests don't notice the extra $1 million we're putting on their cards (the charge appears on the bill as "Hope Intl."). Lady M has been told under no circumstances will there be any more "date nights" outside of the contiguous lower 48. Bo has cut back on his Kobe beef intake to about a half-pound a day. And Big Guy is committed to only playing golf on government-owned golf courses until our budget is resolved in the next stimulus package. Because, as Big Guy has been saying, we all to make some sacrifices in these tough times.
You see, the White House blew it's budget. We're broke, in the red, bone dry, without a penny to our name, nothing in the tank or the bank, Fitty Cent is a friend and our budget balance ... you get the drift. But never fear, we're doing what we can to make do.
You may have heard that we're now charging guests at the White House who eat with Big Guy. Toes takes the credit card numbers, and then rounds up the $29.99 we charge for the "Blue State Special" and hopes the guests don't notice the extra $1 million we're putting on their cards (the charge appears on the bill as "Hope Intl."). Lady M has been told under no circumstances will there be any more "date nights" outside of the contiguous lower 48. Bo has cut back on his Kobe beef intake to about a half-pound a day. And Big Guy is committed to only playing golf on government-owned golf courses until our budget is resolved in the next stimulus package. Because, as Big Guy has been saying, we all to make some sacrifices in these tough times.
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