But first I want to talk Afghanistan. I don’t know if you noticed in between all this hype about the tax deal, but I won the Afghanistan debate. We now say 2014. But it might as well be 2024, if you know what I’m saying. Me and General Petraeus see eye-to-eye on this one. Af-Pak forever. I can’t wait to see Nancy Pelosi’s face when I tell her about our new permanent bases in Yemen and Somalia. Somalia was my idea. Yemen was my new best friend, Stan McChrystal’s idea. We put him in charge of the top secret wars we’re not even allowed to tell Woodward about. Hell, Stan asked the other day if I had a contact for Adolfo Calero.
Now I know what your readers are thinking: Didn’t you guys just get rolled on tax cuts? That’s one way to look at it. But let me let you in on a little secret. At this point just as many rich guys give money to us as the give to Republicans. Don’t tell Nancy and Harry, but we stopped caring about working families at the White House last February. It’s all about the Benjamins now. So tax cuts were a big win for us.
Now look at this START treaty. Truth of the matter is, we haven’t had inspections for a year. We don’t know what the Russians are up to. We have no idea where these nukes are right now. Heck, they’re probably refitting those warheads with some kind of biological nuclear cyber bug. Take out a city in an EMP/Anthrax mushroom cloud. That’s what freaks me out, knowing Putin the way I do. You see, I remember him when he was a KGB colonel. He tried to recruit me. I told him, “No Way. Take it across the street, pal. Who do I look like, Chris Dodd?” But I got to know him over several meetings back then, when I was a junior guy on the Judiciary Committee. And I just want to make this perfectly clear: Putin is Bananas. He is an evil, crazy man. So you don’t cross him. He’s like that guy muttering under his breath at the truck-stop bar about Vietnam. Stay Away. Don’t provoke him. You gotta treat him like a wounded animal. If we screw up this treaty, it’s like a poking a stick in the eye of that Vietnam vet at the truck stop. Just dumb.
I try to share these insights with my good friend Jon Kyl. But he doesn’t care. He can’t stop talking about missile defense and counting rules. My head hurts. On and on. Now, I love Jon Kyl. He is a great American and a good man, but these arms-control shenanigans are going to tip off a thermonuclear war with EMP/Anthrax mushroom clouds. I tell him, “Jon, you are starting World War Three.” But he doesn’t listen. It reminds me of when Barack kept saying we had to drone our way out of Afghanistan.
Anyway, things are great over here at the Naval Observatory, or, as I like to call it, the Real White House.
Now I know what your readers are thinking: Didn’t you guys just get rolled on tax cuts? That’s one way to look at it. But let me let you in on a little secret. At this point just as many rich guys give money to us as the give to Republicans. Don’t tell Nancy and Harry, but we stopped caring about working families at the White House last February. It’s all about the Benjamins now. So tax cuts were a big win for us.
Now look at this START treaty. Truth of the matter is, we haven’t had inspections for a year. We don’t know what the Russians are up to. We have no idea where these nukes are right now. Heck, they’re probably refitting those warheads with some kind of biological nuclear cyber bug. Take out a city in an EMP/Anthrax mushroom cloud. That’s what freaks me out, knowing Putin the way I do. You see, I remember him when he was a KGB colonel. He tried to recruit me. I told him, “No Way. Take it across the street, pal. Who do I look like, Chris Dodd?” But I got to know him over several meetings back then, when I was a junior guy on the Judiciary Committee. And I just want to make this perfectly clear: Putin is Bananas. He is an evil, crazy man. So you don’t cross him. He’s like that guy muttering under his breath at the truck-stop bar about Vietnam. Stay Away. Don’t provoke him. You gotta treat him like a wounded animal. If we screw up this treaty, it’s like a poking a stick in the eye of that Vietnam vet at the truck stop. Just dumb.
I try to share these insights with my good friend Jon Kyl. But he doesn’t care. He can’t stop talking about missile defense and counting rules. My head hurts. On and on. Now, I love Jon Kyl. He is a great American and a good man, but these arms-control shenanigans are going to tip off a thermonuclear war with EMP/Anthrax mushroom clouds. I tell him, “Jon, you are starting World War Three.” But he doesn’t listen. It reminds me of when Barack kept saying we had to drone our way out of Afghanistan.
Anyway, things are great over here at the Naval Observatory, or, as I like to call it, the Real White House.
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