I'm Back

My apologies for being out of the loop for the past month. You see, there just wasn't much to joke about. Oh, I suppose I could've tried to make light of health care "reform." But what's the point of that? And easy Rahm jokes? Nah. I'm better than that. To be sure, Big Guy has been using me at every turn. And, oh, I have stories to tell. But we have plenty of time to catch up.

The big news over the weekend is that Big Guy had to cancel his summer vacation to Scottsdale, Arizona. He'd really been looking forward to playing golf out there for a few days. But given this "misguided" immigration law that was enacted, he says he doesn't feel comfortable going out there, what with his not having a birth certificate and all ... I mean, the original of his birth certificate. Oh, you know what he meant. He has a valid birth certificate ... as far as you know.

The other big news around here that has a lot of us nervous is what is happening with Goldman Sachs. I saw this one coming, unfortunately. For weeks, Big Guy was just railing against the investment house. He wasn't happy that Goldman wasn't hiring enough of our friends, so of course his order to "make them pay," steamrolls into a major Securities and Exchange Commission investigation, Congressional hearings and a media firestorm.

But now that we've created this mess, we're in a tight spot. See, Big Guy and Timmy Geithner say that Goldman Sach's greatest crime was betting against the American economy. The problem is, if that's the crime, just about every member of Big Guy's administration is guilty; it's going to be one hell of a frog march.

The Inside Dope

And by "dope" I don't mean information. I don't know who's leaking, but this kind of accurate re-creations are just killing us. Take a look.

I Feel Dirty

Of course, there has been a lot of talk over the past couple of days about now-former Rep. Eric Massa's revelations regarding Rahm's bathing habits. Toes has been denying it with a knowing grin, but frankly, anyone who knows him knows that when he gets a raging ... well, you know what I mean. Based on what I've experienced, this video re-enactment is pretty accurate

Back when this administration started - boy it seems like four years ago - Toes and I had to bunk down together for a few weeks. And in that time, I had to deal with "Full Frontal Rahm" on quite a few occasions.

There was the time I forgot to put the seat down on the toilet. And the time I didn't make the coffee before I hopped into the shower. Or the time he walked in and the shower curtain was entirely inside the tub. And it wasn't always in the bathroom, either. There was the time the TV remote fell between the sofa cushions and he couldn't figure out how to play his DVR'd episode of "The Ellen Show." I wondered why he was naked for that, but then was just glad that in most cases, when he confronted me in our bathroom, my screens were still fogged from the steam.

In the end, I figured it out and everyone needs to put all of this naked Rahm raging into context: Toes just feels more natural without his clothes on. And while he claims there is an intimidation factor to all of this, trust me, if folks weren't so stunned and were paying attention, they'd see there wasn't much to be intimidated about.

And then ... he turned the water into wine ....

True Romance in the White House ...

It's Valentine's Day, and here at the White House, it's just been a great day.  Big Guy had custom made heart candies made, you know the kind, hard and chalky with little engravings on them?  The ones he gave himself say things: "You Are the Best!"  "You're Spicy!" "World Hearts O."  You get the idea. And he's been sitting in the Oval most of the day reading the "Captain America" comic book that features him in it, and reading the sayings to himself before he pops them into his mouth. It's kind of cute, and for a change, he isn't reading those messages off my screen, so it's kind of a day off for me.

The candies Big Guy gave us are a little different.  They're all the same flavor, you know the pale yellow kind that don't taste like anything, and they say "O Loves U Back."  Rahm seemed kind of pleased with his little box of the yellow hearts, but others weren't so happy. It was obvious Big Guy hadn't spent much time thinking about what to give to everyone, and all the women in the office are standing with their backs against the wall every time Big O walks by. 

Michelle wasn't particularly happy either, but not because of that. Last Valentine's Day, you'll recall, Big Guy took her on one of those opulent date nights that cost taxpayers a half a million dollars, with no share of the happy ending.  This year, Big Guy didn't think he could risk the overnight trip to Paris he'd promised, so he made her a Valentine's Day card out of a bunch of scrap paper he found sitting on his desk.  He worked on it really hard, and had Biden and Gibbsy help him with the gluing, and Bruno with the aluminum foil and sparkly stuff they added for that extra "wow" factor.

Lady M thought a Valentine made from the latest national debt statistics kind of cheapened the whole day; Big Guy disagreed since he said it told her he loved her more than spending. I think it just goes to show that they deserve each other.  So, Happy Valentine's Day everybody.

Let Me Be Clear

That title isn't a request, like, "Let my people go."  I actually am clear.  Crystal, to be precise, largely because of Van, my federal-government employee detailed to keep my screens as clean as possible.

Van -- or the lack of Van -- is just one the problem I have with this chart over at Pajamas Media (and pictured nearby). I mean, couldn't be more inaccurate if they used Timmy Geithner's statistician over at Treasury. 

First, they don't even bother to include Van in the process. He cleans my screens about four or five times a day. I think his salary is in the G-14 band, so about $112,000 a year. To not include him, but to put the Diversity Czar in the middle of it all is insulting.

Second, given the fact that Big Guy can't pronounce "Corpsman" properly, I'd expect PJ Media to understand there is no "Phonetic Spelling Transcription Specialist." Heck, if there was, we wouldn't need Bill Burton and Gibbsy and that English-to-English dictionary they pore over every morning, which we got for the government-low-rate of $10 million via White House requisitioning, by the way.

Third, they completely missed the "Fluffer" position in between the "Guy Who Makes 'Wrap Things Up' Gestures" and "Rahm Emanuel."  Frankly, it's the only way we can get Toes even moderately interested in anything Big Guy says any more.

Finally, that picture of me makes me look fat.  I demand an apology. 

Of Gibbsy's Hand Job and Other Slights Perceived and Otherwise

So everyone was talking about how impressive Gov. Sarah Palin was speaking off the cuff and off her hand the other night.  Big whoop.  It may be true that any intelligent and well seasoned politician can speak that way from a few notes and nothing more.  But it takes a true leader to speak every word scrolling across a screen, unafraid to reveal his incapacity to "ad lib." At least that's what Rahm was telling Big Guy to get him to come out from under the desk to rehearse his morning banter with me before breakfast this morning.

Everyone is joking about the Palin hand notes. I, for one, don't find any of it funny; in fact, I think it's kind of demeaning.  Not to the Governor, but to me.

So Gibbsy thinks it's funny today to walk out to the press corps (pronounced "corpse" here at the White House now).  He flashes his two notes on his hand, and then hears the groans from the reporters.  Nice. Once again, Gibbsy shows that he can never intentionally be funny.

Everyone is asking me why Big Guy doesn't use his hand when he speaks, since I have become such a running joke for him.  Think about it, how are we going to get one hour's worth of notes onto his hand?  To hire a staff to do that would require way too much stimulus dollars than this country can afford. About the best we could is "Let me be clear ...."  And that won't work. Heck, that's how we got into this mess to begin with.