So there I am, twiddling my virtual thumbs out in LA, where I've been subbing for a buddy on "Jimmy Kimmel Live," when I get a call from good 'Ol Joe Biden. He won the Democrat nomination for President, but he needs help. To paraphrase: "Toadie," he says (he can't even keep my name straight), "My ability to speak is about as good as an old dribble-mouthed milk licker."
How do you turn down the pleas of a senior citizen in desperate need? I figured this would be an easy gig. Trump has this re-election in the bag. How much heavy lifting could it take? And then the Chi-Com Covid-19 comes along.
As a result, I spent a few months in Joe Biden's basement. It wasn't fun. It wasn't pretty. Most of you saw it all play out. There were days when 'Ol Joe didn't know whether to wear reading glasses or sunglasses. Using Nancy Pelosi's face guy had its good days and bad days. There were other days when he didn't know where he was or even who he was. But the most awkward moment was when the Hunter Biden hard drive was made public and it turned out 'Ol Joe had appropriated my nickname for BO for himself. "Big Guy"? Really?
Now, after spending the past few months hanging out with a bunch of Dominion voting machine servers being reprogrammed in Joe's basement, I'll be spending time with them in the White House!
And the fun will just keep coming. Why, yesterday, we had this little bit of entertainment:
So, we'll have to work out the kinks. Glasses won't help. But perhaps rehearsals and stronger medication will.