@6 – I gave High Praise! to both of you. Les for creating & posting it, and you for taking the time to email me about it. You both made it easier for me to keep the Nukers entertained, and the purpose of High Praise! is to honor people who do that.
Now both of you go fetch me more entertainment!
What have you done for me lately? It’s been HOURS now…
Janet, you silly boots, you never told me you had such a fine son! He and Elian will have to get together for a few play dates while us guys knock back the beers and brats!
Elian has been such a dear and so helpful around the house since I bought him from Raul Castro. He sweeps the pool and makes the best drinks. When I want my vodka martini he just pours the stuff into the metal mixing cup, closes the lid and puts it in my hands. A minute later, voila, shaken not stirred. (Who says Parkinson’s doesn’t have its benefits?)
So give your pal Reen-Reen a call. I mean, I haven’t seen you since the Eleanor Roosevelt Birthday Memorial get-together back in ’99 when, after one too many tequila shots, you decided to go skinny dipping in the Potomac. You were so proud of your pects and lats. Do you still bench 350 lbs? Hillary was so jealous, let me tell you!
Reen-Reen! Yes we must get together and knock back a few. And then do some serious drinking. We’ll tear into a couple of Y-bones before firing up the Webber and cooking up the steaks!
I heard you had a Cuban houseboy for your place down in West Palm. You mean he’s your adopted son? How’d you sneak that past Jeb and his crowd? Still, I’m sure you’re a proud Papa. My boy is learning to throw a spiral that would make Kaepernick blush. (Go Frisco!) The years do fly by, soon I’ll be teaching my boy how to lather up and shave. Then I’ll have to teach him how to take the hair off of his face.
You darn right Hillary should be jealous. We met in the White House gym back in December and she could barely bench 250 lbs. I maxed out at 550. Backchannel gossip has it that her “accident” actually happened when she dropped the bar going for 300. Cerebral aneurysms are a b!tch and that one was named Hillary. Shameful, really. Given that little Nancy Pelosi can bench 350 easily and 800 doing squats on the Ram Rack. Nancy and I used to laugh at Hillary acting all butch while knowing how puny she was.
I’ve cut out the tequila (unless her name is Tila) and stick to three fingers of Laphroaig and a Macanudo at the end of the day, when I can put my size 11 wingtips up on the desk and let my bangs down. Michelle can bite my Mediterranean hind end if she’s in a swivet about my cigars in the workplace, J Edgar was a piker compared to me. Though he looked better in chiffon.
Anytime you’re up DC way, Reen-Reen, do stop in. My humidor is always open for you.
C’mon girls, you know you’re the jealous ones. Yeah, Janet, your son is a chip off the old cinderblock, but how’s he rate when it comes down to making you a grandfather? I won’t begin to tell you how many people were asking me for Chelsea’s hand in marriage. Then there were all the young men. Bill was off trying to get a date with that chubby chick from Hairspray so, as usual, I was father and mother. You know how that goes, right? I mean, no one rocks the cokebottle glasses and pants suit more fiercely than me. Reenie, you tried to pull it off back in the ’90s but I’m working it like a night job for 2016. But let me say here and now that, outside of Leonid Brezhnev, nobody rules the box suit better than my bestie Janet Napolitano. Though, if you really want to polish off the look, not to mention p.o. a whole lot of people, three words: Rush Limbaugh Ties! Memba them?? Irony fashon, Janet!
I bought a Limbaugh Tie off of Ebay and gave it to Barack for a Kwanzaa gift last year. I haven’t seen him wear it, and funny thing, not long after, he said he’d be glad to accept my resignation as Secretary of State. Humorless Hottentot! Bill was correct when told Ted Kennedy that Barack should be bringing them mint Juleps on a silver tray (and be glad of the Affirmative Action that let him do it).
As for that little incident in the White House gym, I won’t tell about your friend with the initials HGH and her friend Diana Bol if you don’t. But, Janet, dear, do see a dermatologist about the pimples on your back. Barry Bonds and Jose Canseco might be able to bring off that look…but, Janet…simply, no.
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