Written in the 1990's for Bill.

Clinton: To Punish or P-nis

Dedicated to Maureen Dowd who should be punished in a punitentiary for her pungent puntifications.

POTATOES PLAGUE OUR PRESIDENTIAL PEERS
Dan Quayle couldn't spell Potato.
and Clinton can't hide his.

Potato eyes and Paula Jones
As you know, the Paula Jones' case was dismissed.
The judge said Paula had not seen the Presidential pride and toy,
but had seen a potato.
Paula Jones exclaimed,
"Well, well, that explains all those eyes.
He wasn't kidding when he asked me to spiel his spud."

Potato Reasons: One Potato, Two Potato
When asked why Clinton would have a potato in his pants, the judge gave a few possibilities.
"Well, Tammy Wynette says it's cuz Hillary doesn't know the difference
between pants and pantries so the First Lady used the First Larder she could find."

"Her psychiatrists thinks," she said,
"the White House boss wants her husband to be a ... dictator.
Must be a blond dictionary thing."

"But I think, being the habitual politician that he is," intoned the judge,
"Clinton wants the votes of the veggie crowd
by claiming a tuber instead of a tube steak.
He's a closet Republican, a rich puba
obsessed with his tuba."

The Russet potato nose from Dope, Arkansas,
knows that the veggie crowd likes a good Potato Lay.
Not wanting to insult the Hispanic vote, Clinton has sought a Frito Lay
if he can get some frijoles.
The vegan crowd wants nothing to do with BJ.

For the common man, Clinton has practiced being a common tator of the people.
"Monica, I like you." said Bill, "You remind me of Hillary in her youth.
Both of you are dog gone good potato mashers. My small fry goes goes well with your big thighs.

"Big bags of potahtohs got nothing on y'alls' thunderthighs."

"But," Monica added, eyes blinking at 100 mph, "I think you liked me more as your potato masticator
when you aren't being a master tator."

"Ya, chipmonika, you're a sweet potato." To which she bitterly replies, "I wish yours was the same. I never liked buttermilk."

The Clinton Presidency will long be known for its on-going game of hot potato.
Yep, Clinton has a peck of troubles and a peck of potatoes.
He has a pick of Idahos, .... Chicago Ho's, and California Ho's.

Bill predilections blindside his reactions to a repeat event like the person who always falls for "There is food on your tie"
whereupon the baiter tweaks the reactors nose as he looks down. For Bill, it is the Christmas entry of Santa Claus bantering "Ho, Ho, Ho."
Bill quickly inquires where are they and how much? Bill, cannot help himself.

"But we have an in-house chef!" disclaimed Bill to a predecessor who responded,
"Clinton, listen closely--the Secret Service provides the best pieces delivery service in America--ask JFK or FDR. The toppings can be 44DD or larger.  For strong, lasting impressions, they'll bring Domitrix. From Pieces Sluts, we get our best aged cheese if you are into coddle milk and milfs. Oppositely, and for barely leaven buns, they'll contact Pack of Johns. PJ's--the Secret Service's codename for niche pizzas--also has breakfast specials, pop tarts. Cherry is the most popular."

The 2008 Presidential winner is not without his culinary fancies: Barry Obama fought long and hard to keep his black berry even proclaiming that they would "have to pry it out of my hand." He toned it down when he was informed that those people were not talking about eunucking him by taking away his black berry. Taking no chances in keeping and protecting his black berry, he continued his 24/7 Air Force salutes. Freud would have a couch day around the question of "Why can't Barry keep his hands out of his pockets?"

Television has its hot personalities, closet habitual politicians..
For example, Sam Donaldson peppers politicians with indigestible questions
while some spice was provided by his sidekick, Cayenne Sawyer.
Or, consider Katie Corrupt of Virginia, the cute little morning talk show, a real cherry pepper.

Banana pepper politicians come in two varieties.
Most are poll-driven, spineless yellow-bellied cowards.
Some frankly think anyday is a great day for bananafish.

Of course, the Congressional Caucus of African-American has its Black Pepper members.
Some coarse. Some groundless. Some are white peppercorns ... ol' really ohs.

Claude Pepper lived up to his name.
Or, consider Patrick Moynihan.
Because of his habenera wit, we should call him Dr. Pepper.

Most politicians act like real hot peppers.
They are too hot to stomach,
and they burn us up.
Some would think our corny country boy president is a common pepper, but he thinks otherwise.
Clinton thinks he is a real holy, hot pepper who is above the law. His alter ego? Hillary.
Specifically, our more hallowed than thou President thinks he is a jalapenis politician.
His take on Teddy Roosevelt is to talk softly and show your peppermint stick.

* INTERNS
Clinton's private focus has convinced more than one White House lady
that he thinks he is President of a penal colony.
Did he campaign for elections or erections?
Or, as a wit witnessed, being hard on law enforcement,
he granted so many pardons because he thought they led to penal freedom.
Clinton never met a woman who he did not want to penalize.
Consider what Clinton whispers into a woman's ear
after he publicly expresses, "I'll feel your pain ...
if you will feel my painus."
Clinton's favorite book on different sexes is,
"Men are for arse, Women get the penis."

White House interns want the Nobel Prize in Economics
They claim responsibility for the booming American economy.
Why?
Because Clinton was fidgeting around with the White House interns,
instead of widgeting around with the economy.
Of course, Monica thinks she got the best prize of all.
Anyone guess what it was? A Presidential piece prize.
"Yes,  Bill, and remember", says Jesse, "keep piece alive. Give piece a chance."
"Hell, who you fool'n? We want a chance at a live piece"
"Bill, all puns aside, the way from honor to inner peace is liquor."

False economic claims: Both Repubicans and Democrats claim economic heros in Reagan and Clinton. Neither orchestrated booming economies. It was the computer automation in the 1980s and 1990s that lowered business costs thus increasing profits and capital. Now that basic business automation is maxed out, computerization is focused on play rather than work with an axiomatic decline in economies and business. Both Reagan and Clinton get credit they do not deserve.

Christmas time for Monica
Monica realized she could have had one of the most unique White House gifts ...
if she had had some liquid oxygen.
Liquid oxygen is very cold and makes things very brittle.
Monica could have mailed her friends some Presidential penis brittle.

Monica remembers well when William Jefferson Clinton personalized their relationship.
One day, he told Monica to call him Billy Jefferson Clinton,
or, for short, BJ.
Monica responded, "Oh, now I see why you call this room the Oval Orifice."
Some knowing of Clinton's using elections to get erections know he's a closet Republican,
using public offices to explore pubic orifices.

As the Monica mess got legs in the media, Hillary express to Bill that his lasting legacy
might be his middle leg.
"Yep,"  Monica agrees upon her knees, "Willy Willard, your leg I see."
Being done in by a leg incident, Bill Clinton feels the pain of Tonya Harding, a kindred soul.

"Why don't you buy some Viagra?" intoned Monica getting tired once again.
"I do, but the boss uses it before I can."
Affectionately carassing her plumb cheeks, Bill reminisced,
"You know, ChipMonc, in my younger days,
I was known for my pocket rocket.
It's dependability had it known as the rocket pocket watch.
I could take a licking and keep on sticking.
Yep, dependability, ya culd depend on Billy."
"Ooh," responded Monica, "We interns thought it was called that
because we could set our watches by it every hour."
Yep, thought Willy, definitely a clock when with two hands that goes kookoo and googoo on the hour.
Billy's faltering performance increasingly reminded
the knee-sore supplicant of the old Italian man
consoling the disappointed young Italian girl by saying,
"Penna pasta."

Monica isn't a dumb, uncaring blond.
"BJ, pollsters are right," Monica intones, "when they say that you are pole driven.
Did you campaign to be elected or erected?"
"Why do I keep hearing that line?" Bill wonders.
A sentimentalist, Monica chokes back every time
she hears a political pundit call Clinton the "comeback kid."

Did you know Hillary is to Wed a Cartoonist?
When she divorces B.J. Clinton,
Hillary is going to marry
the famous cartoonist of Charlie Brown, Lucy and Snoopie.
Why? Hillary has a case of Peanuts envy, part of the reason for pantsuits instead of dresses.
Besides, she is used to being married to an American joke.

* A Dog's Life
Clinton, quoted by Newsweek after the impeachment hearings,
says he felt like a fire hydrant eyed by a bunch of bladder-full dogs.
But, like always, you know, he conveniently forgets who started the "iss'ing" contest,
switching victimizer with victim. Awesome.

Franklin Roosevelt had a dog problem called Fala while Clinton is dogged by a problem called phallus.
In a moment of revealing enlightenment, Clinton told a confidant that all men are born dogs,
with women either house training them or letting them run loose.
"I led a dog's life due to the women in my life."
"Yep," reflected the confidant, "you're quite the dog catcher."
Luckily for Slick Willy's impeachment, he was a white English pug rather than a black lab,
for, homey, the Congress would definitely have convicted the latter.

* LEGALESE

Subpoena
Does anyone remember what Bill Clinton did
after Paula Jones announced that he had some unusual features
on his presidential dog chasing stick?
Bill Clinton had some unannounced and unexplained surgery
at the Bethesda Naval Hospital after receiving the subpoena.

Well, it was not that he had the marks removed.
I mean, would Bill Clinton do something like that?
Well, in truth of farce, he rushed to the hospital
to ask the doctors where on his anatomy he could find his subpoena.

For double the fun and double the pleasure, the White House Elmer Fudd wanted to do
a wiggly double-twins or wiggly spear da twins threesome.

* HILLARY

Hillary's No More Lisp
Well, when the 1992 defeat of George Bush was announced at the Democratic Campaign headquarters,
an intoxicated Hillary jumped up on a table.
She hiked her dress to reveal a pair of big, bare, sweet potatoes.
Surprising a lot of people with a deep manly voice,
and swilling a can of the beer that made Milwaukee famous,
the usually secretive, paranoid deceiver bellowed and slurred,
"Read my lisp,
No more Busch!
Burp ....
Come Molson and guzzle my Schlitz. I want Bill wiser, now!"

Looking up, wizened Bill made a mental note for Hillary's future political campaigns.
Now, we know why Hillary always wears pants suits.

* HABITUAL POLITICIAN
Why is Bill Clinton a habitual politician?
Clinton decided to become a habitual politician when he heard that the basic requirement was
to cheat on your wife, usually with your best friend's wife or daughter.
Corresponding with the birth of his daughter, he had a 12-year affair with Gennifer Peonies.
For inspiration, wife-cheaters have an enlargement
of that famous White House Rose Garden photo-op of Bill meets Jack.
(Now is that a set of bedroom eyes if you ever saw such a set?)

As a former Navy man who still liked to ride the waves,
Jack knew the real version of red skys at at night, to wit,
Red lights at night, sailers get horney for delights before morning.

Like potatoes, sex clearly plagues our Presidency,
for the race for Y2K (an amorous dyslexic coined the term)
is shaping up to be an S&M lovefest:
Bush and Gore.

Nowhere is Hellary's drive to be the a female dictator more evident than in her multi-diversity as a streetwalker--political, intellectual, mental and emotional. To get where she wants, she has sold more of her Faustian soul than a drug dealer specializing in coke, lsd, crack and horse. One need not wonder who was the coach behind "I didn't have sex with that woman" when one saw the pardon denials by Hellary (Feb 23, 2001), who basically said, "I didn't know what my brothels were doing. Since it depends on your definition of brothel, you can't say I have any brothels. Just because our siblings and sybarite frequent a joint together, it doesn't legally make them brothels in law just common low bros in hell enjoying a joint without inhaling."

Actually she said, "I did not think it appropriate to call my brother because I didn't want anyone asking what we talked about or putting either him or me in a very difficult position. So I have not talked with him." Said the Holocaust survivor in the audience, "Yah, wie der Fallhammer. Wenn das deutsche Volk learnen uber Auswitz, sie denken gut, um nicht mit ihren Brudern zu sprechen, die arbeiten bei Auswitz. Wessen Idee ist das? Noch einmal, die fur immer naiv Hundin?"

Sehen Sie kein Ubel.
Horen Sie kein Ubel.
Sprechen Sie kein Ubel.

The victim of child abuse thought that Hillary clearly had an attitude that qualified her to be child welfare worker in Florida: Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies. Could you imagine what she would say to the Chinese on human rights if she ever became President? Don't ask--Don't tell.

Ever the blame shifter, Clinton found refuge in wrapping himself in the Bible.
However, forgiveness should not be anticipated as one knowingly violates the tenants of faith.
This con artist repeatedly has shown his oneness with "If a big lie doesn't work, try a bigger one. Big lies keep believers in the flock."
Lying to a grand jury was not enough, he had to hide it by a nationwide finger wagging lie to the American people.
Tooting his horn, he said,
"I didn't have sax with that woman. I am a classically trained penist."
Why so much lying? Guys lie to lie about to make it grow. With liagra one can be a peenochio.

Testifying, for him, has the wrong meaning of testify's Latin root.
Fortunately, he's a proletariat pretender rather than reproductive philanderer--could you imagine a bunch of willy billys goats loosed upon our howdy doody gals? (What do you get when you mix BJ and HR? Howdy Doodie.)

The Clinton's Credo: Lie bigger and bigger until people cannot believe you are not telling the truth because they can't believe someone could lie so much. Sort of like a lot of murderers who have to be crazy to do the crazy crimes they commit. Clinton has his own variation of "Give me mercy for killing my parents, for I am now an orphan," to wit, "Pardon my infidelity, for I am in a unfaithful marriage."

And, in the end, he seeks refuge in psycho-babble that is an insult to manhood, nature and God: "I'm a sax addict."

Country Boy *
Well, despite his Ivy League degrees and Bill's Rhodes scholarship,
the Clintons show that taking the boy out of the country
doesn't necessarily take the trash out of the boy.

White trash is honest hard-scrabble without the honesty. White trash assumes, expects and lives duplicity. No guilt. No sorrow. Just con artists fabricating guilt and sorrow: Grifters. Sound like our boy in the Out House? Clinton's glibness and contriteness about his actions echo "white trash, white trash."

Clinton's number one problem is his trying to work around and repudiate that he was born, has lived and will die bad hard scrabble. Blind obsession for narrow achievements without a broad, balanced personality is not human actualization. There's a fly in this oinment of calling Clinton "white trash." White trash is embarrassed by Clinton.

You can paint a rusting ole car, but underneath the facade, you have a rusty ole car. How long it takes to discover white trash in the White House depends on how long the ole white boy lays on the white wash. Of course, if you get off your couch and look closer at the rattle-trap junkbucket you can see the white wash sooner.

* Conclusion:
People differ in how offensive they found the Lewinski lewd and skittish comedy.
Some found it a peccadillo,
some saw a peck of dildos,
and others wish they had a pick of cigars.
Some recall how GBS said a man would give up a good woman but not a good cigar.
Monica response, "A good woman doesn't want a pick of a cigar but a pecker of a cigar."

Written in the 1990's for Bill.