Part VII of a continuing series chronicling the life and times of President George Walker Bush.

Click here for Part I.
Click here for Part II.
Click here for Part III.
Click here for Part IV.
Click here for Part V.
Click here for Part VI.



Part VII: A Square Peg In An Oval Office

It was June 16, 1999. Governor George Walker Bush of Texas was conferring with his advisor Karl Rove in the Governor's Mansion. After a grueling four minutes of policy discussion, Bush was wearying.

"That'll do, Turdy. Call down to the kitchen for some PB and Js and brewskis," he ordered. "Power Rangers is coming on." As Rove headed for the phone, Bush hit the remote, but instead of a cartoon, he saw a man speaking in front of an American flag. Bush changed the channel, only to see the same image. He cursed quietly and changed the channel again, but to no avail. Every channel seemed to be showing the same thing. Bush angrily stabbed the mute button.

As Rove completed his assignment and hung up the phone, Bush yelled, "The hell is this? Where's my fucking cartoon? Who is this asshole and why is he on every channel?"

"I believe that's Al Gore, sir," said Rove.

"Who?"

"The Vice President, sir."

"Well, call the goddamn networks. My show's supposed to be on."

"Maybe we should turn it up and see what's going on first, sir," Rove suggested hesitantly. Bush sighed and unmuted the volume.

"If you entrust me with the presidency, I will marshal its authority, its resources and its moral leadership to fight for America's families. With your help, I will take my own values of faith and family to the presidency to build an America that is not only better off but better," Gore droned. "And that is why today I announce that I am a candidate for president of the United States —"

The television exploded in a shower of sparks as the table lamp Bush had thrown found its mark. "Listen up, Turdblossom," Bush said in a tone of barely contained fury. "We gotta stop this sonofabitch. That horndog Clinton has just about fucked this country beyond recognition with his goddamn peace and prosperity shit, and I'm not gonna sit back and watch this Gore asshole take over. Make some calls. We got some presidentin' to do."

Rove smiled and stepped carefully around the broken glass. "I'm on it, sir," he said.

"And where the hell are my PB and Js?"

"I'm on that too, sir," replied Rove.

With his vague memories of assisting with his father's campaigns back in 1988 and 1992, Bush knew that running for the presidency was hard work. He insisted on writing his announcement speech and choosing the venue by himself, throwing his family and friends and Rove himself into a panic.

Their fears were unfounded. Within days, the speech was ready, and a confident Bush took the stage at Austin's prestigious Exposé Gentlemen's Adult Entertainment on South Congress Avenue. He threw back a couple of shots, squinted out at the hushed crowd, and spoke:

"My fellow folks, today I stand before you surrounded by topless dancers like Champale here – hey, Champale, see you after my speechery – to announce, uh… oh yeah, that I am the candidater guy for President of the US of freakin' A.

Our nation has suffered bigtime under Will Clinton and his sidekick Hal Gore, and I'm here today to say: No more. It's time to restore dignitude and horror back to the White House.

My daddy was President once. If he can do it, so can I. I know it's hard work. It's hard. But it's nowhere near as hard as running to get there, having to talk to stupid people in crappy states like Nebraskawa and South Virginia and pretend you give a shit about their problems. It's all like: Oh, I lost my lousy job and oh, my kids aren't learning how to read good and oh, save me, Governor Bush, save me. And I will look them in the eye and not say a word about how I don't really care about their pitiful lives, because I'm generous like that.

I intend to be President of all Americans, but mostly the evangelicals because they'll believe anything, and also the rich folks because they're running things anyway and it's not smart to piss them off.

My opponent Hal Gore will have all sorts of policy ideas and facts and figures and egghead theories about global warming and stuff, and to him I say: Go bite a fart. Real Americans with their mainstream values and hilarious fear of God don't buy that crap. They want chickens in their pots, prayer and guns in their schools and lots of gasoline.

As President, you're damn right that's what I will give them. Thank you and God bless the Republican Party."

As the primaries approached, Rove's operatives used a clever mix of threats, lying and cheating to sideline longshot GOP hopefuls like Gary Bauer, Orrin Hatch and Elizabeth Dole. But a formidable opponent remained: Senator John McCain. There was also Alan Keyes, of course, but nobody paid any attention to him. Bush, furious at the polling data in the run-up to New Hampshire, demanded that Rove do something. Rove explained that McCain had spent five years in a Hanoi prison camp, so of course everyone knew he'd make a swell President and it would be dangerous to ever say anything bad about him.

Results from the New Hampshire Primary were ominous, with McCain beating Bush 48% to 30%. Scared for his job and his personal safety, Rove devised a plan. His nimble push-polling put the word out to South Carolina voters that McCain had not only fathered a mixed-race baby out of wedlock, but that he routinely listened to the Wu-Tang Clan while eating chitlins off the naked buttocks of Satan. It was a high-stakes move, but naturally, Southern Republicans ate it up and asked for more. McCain folded like a cheap suit and Bush romped to the nomination in Philadelphia, choosing the gregarious, common-touch Dick Cheney as his running mate.

Next up was Al Gore. With a devious strategy of grasping the issues and pointing to his solid, long political track record, Gore did everything he could to look smart, often a fatal mistake in American politics. Bush seized his opening, mocking Gore in the debates with taunts of "Sez you!" and "Oh, yeah?" and "At least my running mate's not a Jew!" while Gore sighed, droned on and generally bored viewers to tears with his ludicrous claims to have invented the wheel and been the model for the title character in Ben Hur.

Bush was dazzling on the stump throughout the fall, assuring voters that as President, he would ban abortion, outlaw the speaking of French on American soil, give each middle class American family their own Mexican slave, make flag burning a capital crime, and vigorously defend the nation from Celine Dion, whatever the cost. His poll numbers rose steadily.

Election Day dawned over a divided America. There were the Luddites who insisted an intelligent person should be President. There were Jews for Buchanan. There was the vocal contingent who had long dreamed of having a rumpled consumer advocate long past his best-before date in charge. There were solid, mainstream, family values Americans who, of course, wanted Bush. And finally, there was the roughly 50% of eligible voters who couldn't be bothered to have an opinion at all and stayed home to watch Cosby reruns.

As the returns began to come in, it was obvious that it would all come down to Florida, a decision voters in the other 49 states had long dreaded. Shortly before 8:00 that evening, some networks called the state for Gore. A flurry of threatening phone calls quickly put a halt to these outrageous claims. By 10:00, the networks declared Florida "undecided". By 2:30 in the morning, they called Florida for Bush. Two hours later, most networks retracted this position and declared the state "hopelessly fucked up beyond repair" with Bush's margin under 2,000 votes.

Days and weeks of recounts and lawsuits followed. Chads were hung and butterflies were scrutinized. Experts opined and people who didn't understand a thing were interviewed by intrepid reporters.

Florida Secretary of State Katherine Harris at one point declared herself the winner. In reprisal, Nader took to the airwaves to declare himself the winner, and to state repeatedly that he saw no difference between the National Socialist Party and the Whigs. Buchanan appeared at a Palm Beach synagogue with a crowd of his staunchest supporters, who hailed him as "Mr. President" before heading off for the Early Bird Special. Gore and Bush, meanwhile, discussed settling the matter with a duel.

But pistols at dawn would not be necessary. On December 12, the United States Supreme Court handed down two decisions, the first declaring that Florida's Supreme Court's recount order was unconstitutional and the second stating simply:

"We find Mr. Gore to be a big yawn and would much prefer to have a beer with George W. Bush. Therefore, under authority we've just decided to grant ourselves, we're making him President and screw what anyone else thinks."

By five votes, George W. Bush had won the Presidency.

Next Thursday, Part VIII: So Much Brush, So Few Vacation Days.

Part VI of a continuing series chronicling the life and times of President George Walker Bush.

Click here for Part I.
Click here for Part II.
Click here for Part III.
Click here for Part IV.
Click here for Part V.



Part VI: Austin's Powers

One morning early in 1994, George W. Bush's phone rang, waking him from a deep liquor-induced sleep. "This better be good, whoever you are, or I will fuck you up," muttered Bush, and a familiar voice responded, "It's Turdblossom, sir. Karl Turdblossom." He was calling with news that George's brother Jeb was running for governor of Florida.

"I was some pissed off," Bush recalls. "I thought if my dickwad brother got his own state to run, then I should too. Me and Turdblossom talked about it and I asked him which state he thought I should run for governor in. He said why not Texas, seeing as how I lived there and all. I knew then that this was a real smart guy I had to have on my team. So that's why I decidered to throw my cat in the ring."

The decision could not have come at a more dire time for Texas. Under the radical socialist tyranny of Governor Ann Richards, the state had witnessed decent economic growth even as the rest of the nation suffered through a harsh recession. Richards had saved Texas $6 billion by rationalizing government bureaucracy. Her "Robin Hood" initiative ensured more funding for schools in poor minority districts. Her reforms of the prison system kept more violent offenders behind bars longer, and reduced inmate substance abuse. Clearly, Richards represented a grave threat to Texas and had to be stopped before she could do further damage. But how?

Rove came up with a multi-pronged strategy. While his team push-polled voters about important issues like the number of lesbians on Richards' staff, Bush began intensive sessions with private tutors, who drilled into the candidate the fine points of being the kind of guy voters would want to have a beer with. Don't sneak sips of the voter's beer, they counseled. Pay for a round now and then yourself, they advised. Don't vomit on the voter, they warned. Don't leer at or paw the voter's spouse, they noted. If the voter is bald, don't rub his head without asking first, they cautioned. Don't pass out at the bar, they insisted.

The lessons were contrary to his life experience and ran counter to every instinct he had, but he persevered, week after week, beer after beer.

Rove's diligent smear campaign against Richards, meanwhile, was gaining traction. Throughout the summer, polls showed increasing numbers of voters variously convinced that Richards was an African-American male, a Russian spy, the Antichrist, the reincarnation of Hitler, an exotic dancer named Brandi, or a woodland vole.

As summer turned to fall, Texas was gradually becoming Bush country.

On election night, Bush received two pieces of glad news. First, that he had beaten Richards, and second, that his brother Jeb had lost the Florida race to incumbent Lawton Chiles. "Served the little bastard right," Bush recollects fondly.

Jeb would go on to become Florida governor in 1998, earning an affectionate new sobriquet from his older brother, "Governor Stinky Little Copycat".

Once settled in the Governor's Mansion, Bush immediately pivoted from politics to policy. On learning that Texas was a state with a "weak governor" constitution, he declared war on Oklahoma as a show of strength. Within days, units of the Texas National Guard reached Oklahoma City, staging daring panty raids in coed dorms at Oklahoma Baptist University. Air support for the invasion was commanded by Governor Bush himself, though he failed to reach Oklahoma when his plane ran out of fuel over Gainesville.

He ejected safely and hitchhiked back to Austin. In front of the state house, under a tastefully gigantic red, white and blue "Mission Accomplished" banner, he addressed the troops:

"My fellow badass Texan warriors, major combat operations in Oklahoma have ended. In the battle of Oklahoma, Texas and our allies in the oil industry have prevailed. And now our coalition is engaged in securing and reconstructing that state.

In this battle, we have fought for the cause of liberty and the end of 'weak governor' status for Texas. Your courage, your willingness to face danger for your state and for each other made this day possible. Because of you our state is more secure. Because of you Oklahoma is free. Because of you I'm the big cheese, the enchilada supremo.

Operation Okie Freedom was carried out with a combination of precision and speed and boldness the enemy did not expect and the world had not seen before. In the images of celebrating Okies we have also seen the ageless appeal of human freedom. Decades of lies and intimidation could not make the people of Oklahoma love their oppressors or desire their own enslavement.

We have difficult work to do in Oklahoma. We're bringing order to parts of that state that remain dangerous. We're pursuing and finding leaders of the old regime who will be held to account for their crimes. We've begun the search for hidden chemical and biological weapons, and already know of hundreds of sites that will be investigated.

And we will stand with the new leaders of Oklahoma as they establish a government of, by and for the Okie people. The transition from dictatorship to democracy will take time, but it is worth every effort even if we have to break the bank to achieve it. Our coalition will stay until our work is done and then we will leave and we will leave behind a free Oklahoma.

The use of force has been and remains our last resort. Yet all can know, friend and foe alike, that our state has a mission: We will answer threats to our security, and we will defend the peace.

We are mindful as well that some good men and women are not making the journey home, having decided that the weather in Oklahoma is better. I disagree, and they can go straight to hell for their treason.

To those of you who returned to Texas, thank you for serving our state and our cause. May God bless you all. And may God continue to bless Texas."

With the war behind him, he turned his attention to domestic matters. The budget surplus bequeathed by Richards provided a perfect opportunity to enact a $2 billion tax cut for people who didn't need it, ensuring that fiscal solvency would not soon threaten the state again. More revenues were diverted to faith-based initiatives. He also devoted a lot of time to environmental issues, undoing the shameful downward spiral toward cleanliness that Richards and her leftist followers had initiated.

It was in essence a warm-up drill for his eventual appointment to the Presidency, though many innocent Americans didn't realize it at the time.

As an exodus of horrified liberals began fleeing the state, grateful voters rewarded Bush with a second term in 1998. There was still much to be done, and the agenda was made even tougher by his habit of taking several months of vacation time annually.

Highlights of his second term included rehashing everything from his first term, but he was bolder than ever in funneling public money to faith-based organizations and slashing taxes for the rich. The transparency of his crony appointments and obscene giveaways to the private sector impressed even Rove.

As his second term neared an end, Bush declared June 10, 2000 Jesus Day in Texas. "Lots of folks thought Jesus Day was my idea," Bush remembers. "Well, I wish it had been. It was really thought up by some British guy, I think. Maybe Tony Blair, but I'm not sure." Original or not, Jesus Day cemented Bush's reputation as a devout pseudo-Christian.

By 2000, Texas had slipped significantly in national education rankings, environmental standards, fiscal health, infrastructure soundness and a myriad of other areas. Bush's work there was done.

His next career move would take the nation by storm.

Next Thursday, Part VII: A Square Peg In An Oval Office.

Part V of a continuing series chronicling the life and times of President George Walker Bush.

Click here for Part I.
Click here for Part II.
Click here for Part III.
Click here for Part IV.



Part V: Walker, Texas Rangers

In 1986, George W. Bush made the momentous decision to pretend he'd given up drinking. "I have to give Laura the credit for that," he says humbly. "It just hadn't occurred to me that the world would accept me as a teetotaler and I could still booze it up as much as I wanted. Since I'd never admitted the coke, I didn't even have to bother pretending to give that up. It changed my life. Well, that and pretending to accept Jesus as my personal Savior for the third or fourth time. Heh."

His father's decision to run for the presidency in 1988 surprised only one person, his son George. "I had no idea he wanted the job," recalls Bush. "Looking back, maybe his two terms as Vice President should have tipped me off, but I just didn't see it coming. Always figured Reagan would just change the Constitution and run for a third term."

Once over the shock, Bush quickly accepted a job offer from his father to help out with the campaign, and George, Laura and the twins moved to Washington.

He was an indispensable part of the campaign, egging Dukakis supporters' cars, drunkenly disrupting Dukakis campaign events, urinating on Dukakis lawn signs. He was named campaign media liaison, a title that still makes him wince. "It was too hard to spell and it sounded so French," he says.

Still, he won over the notoriously jaded press corps with subtle humor, lavish toga parties and generous gifts of nose candy. Yet his finest hour was persuading his father to name J. Danforth Quayle as VP nominee. Bush recalls, "I saw something of myself in him: the intellectual curiosity, the deep humanity, the movie star charisma, the spelling skills. I knew with the Quaylester on board the ticket, ol' Doodookakis and his running mate Willie Horton didn't stand a chance."

His hunch was correct. Bush and Quayle won 40 states, and the other 10 were quickly overpowered and forced to rejoin the Union.

With his father safely ensconced in the Oval Office, it was time to take the family back to Texas. He had wealth amassed through a string of failed business ventures and insider trading of his Harken shares, and he was ready to take the next step, somewhere.

Listening to the radio one morning, he heard a news item about oil services tycoon and Bush family friend Eddie Chiles putting the Texas Rangers up for sale. "I thought to myself: how fucking cool is that?" he remembers. "I was used to bribing one cop at a time. This was a chance to buy a whole bunch of them."

He contacted Chiles immediately, but was disappointed to learn that the Texas Rangers in question were actually a baseball team. Chiles patiently explained that the police Rangers were part of the Texas Department of Public Safety, and thus unavailable for purchase.

Chiles managed to convince Bush that his Rangers would still be a great investment. "Borrow 500 grand, get some other investors onside, and it's all yours, son," Chiles advised.

Bush quickly cobbled together a consortium, which bought the team and installed Bush as managing general partner. He immediately set to work on remaking the franchise.

"I called Bobby Valentine into my office," he remembers. "Told him he'd be staying on as manager as long as he did what I told him to. First order of business was he had to get rid of that banjo hitter Sosa."

He also took a hands-on approach to other aspects of the operation. On game day, he'd arrive at the ballpark early to sample the draft beer for consistency, sometimes hitting as many as 20 concession stands in his quest for absolute quality control. Afterward, he would personally test some urinals.

Finally, he would throw up, grab a hot dog and head for his office to work on quirky promotional ideas, with generally unfortunate results. "Gopher Giveaway Day" necessitated expensive repairs to the stadium's natural turf. "Tix for Tits" sparked mass protests from Christian Conservative groups and feminist organizations alike, though Bush still maintains that the extensive news coverage of the controversy was a net plus for the franchise.

From personally injecting ballplayers with steroids to spearheading the building of a new stadium, he was a tireless baseball man with a deep reverence for the great traditions of the game: the spitting, the crotch-scratching, the cussing, the beer.

One obscure incident that season was the unexpected appearance of Karl Rove at Arlington Stadium one night. Though well into his sixteenth beer of the game, Bush remembered Rove as part of the campaign team from his failed 1978 Congressional run. "Kevin, good to see you again," slurred Bush as he hugged the sweaty, moonfaced pillar of pink flesh.

"Uh, it's Karl, sir. Karl Rove," Rove replied.

"Yeah, Kelsey Rove. Sure, I remember you, Ken."

"Karl, sir."

"No need to be formal, now, Kirk. I'm just gonna call you Turdblossom, since you look like crap," said Bush.

"That's fine, sir. Now, I was wondering if I could convince you to –"

"Season tickets, right?"

"No, sir. Would you consider running for Governor of Texas?"

"Oh, hell, sure. I thought you wanted free season tickets and I was gonna have to call security on your fat ass."

Rove hired consultants the next day to teach Bush the fine points of failed policy, and arranged to introduce the candidate to reporters he'd paid off in advance. But Bush decided to withdraw, an act that puzzled political observers at the time. The explanation was simple, however. "I still just had baseball on the brain," notes Bush, "And some booze and coke, of course."

Rove was disappointed, but took his leave knowing that one day, Bush's quirky and charming mediocrity as a human being would compel him to return to politics.

The Rangers finished the 1989 season with an 83-79 record, good for only fourth place in their division. Bush changed gears, sending large checks to Commissioner Fay Vincent's office and the World Umpires Association with memos that read simply, "For your consideration." He toyed with the idea of mandating that the Rangers receive four strikes per batter and four outs per inning, but was advised by his partners that the idea would never fly in the arcane, rules-obsessed culture of Major League Baseball. "Baseball was hard work," he remembers with a wince.

The Rangers finally finished atop their division in 1994, only to have their postseason stolen from them by the Socialist-inspired players' strike. By then, however, Rove had already returned to convince Bush that being Governor of Texas would give him a chance to run the real Texas Rangers, the ones with guns.

Next Thursday, Part VI: Austin's Powers.

Part IV of a continuing series chronicling the life and times of President George Walker Bush.

Click here for Part I.
Click here for Part II.
Click here for Part III.



Part IV: Risky Bidness

In 1973, the Joint Chiefs of Staff made a fateful decision. After heated debate, they agreed that Lieutenant George W. Bush would better serve America by attending Harvard Business School rather than fulfill the remaining eight months of his Texas Air National Guard commitment.

Lieutenant Bush was called to the Pentagon for a briefing, where he begged them to at least allow him to continue in the inactive reserve. They grudgingly agreed, but warned him to keep an eye out for Charlie on campus. "No problemo, sirs," a relieved Bush responded. So it was that America lost the Vietnam War.

Bush – or "Lootie", as he insisted his new classmates refer to him – found himself on the HBS campus in Allston, Massachusetts. Here, at long last, he discovered a college experience unmarred by pungent hippies and flag-burners. As far as the eye could see, HBS was filled with polite, patriotic white people whose only goal was to make money and prove to the Woodstock Nation that the American Dream wasn't dead, it just required more initials behind one's name. Bush, finally, was in his academic element.

So readily did he take to the demanding curriculum of the school that he had no need for studying or attending classes. Instead, he spent most days hanging around Spangler Hall, jovially grabbing at coeds' buttocks and sipping from a beer mug full of Stoli.

He graduated in 1975, and celebrated by going on a year-long bender, culminating in a drunk-driving offense in Kennebunkport. Looking back on this period, an older and even wiser Bush has a chuckle at his own expense. "In retrograde, I guess I can't blame myself too much. Kennebunkport was boring as crap. Plus I was only thirty, and young kids that age don't prioriterize too good. And hey, at least the fuzz never spotted the blow I had in the glove compartment. Heh."

He returned to Midland, drank a bunch more, and wrestled hard with what direction he would take. A chance invitation to a backyard barbecue would give him the answer.

It was a gorgeous Midland afternoon, and after nine or ten cocktails, he was persuaded to regale the party with stories of his harrowing TANG exploits. His narrative stopped mid-sentence when he noticed a striking young woman in the rapt crowd. She resembled a younger, prettier Cesar Romero, and the curtains she wore shimmered in the sun. He approached, spellbound.

Grabbing her right breast, he made an amusing honking sound. "What's your name, babe?" he asked, after she had stopped giggling.

"Laura Welch," she cooed.

He snorted in derision. "Guess again, headlights, your name is Laura W. Bush now."

Three months later, it became official as the two lovebirds were married in a storybook ceremony at the Petroleum Museum out on Interstate 20.

The groom's parents were among the first to arrive, eager to meet their new daughter-in-law. "I'm George, Sr.," said George, Sr., "But you can call me 'Pork Rind', little lady."

"And I'm Barbara, known to my friends as 'Baboon'," added Bush's mother. "But you can call me Mrs. Bush. Oh, and I love those drapes you're wearing."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bush. I bought these with my meager librarian's salary," Laura replied shyly.

The older woman squinted at Laura. "Librarian? Now, dear, that will never do. You're a Bush now, and you can't tarnish the family name with books and that sort of shit. Now tell me, you are a virgin, aren't you?"

"Technically, no, Mrs. Bush. But I did run a stop sign and kill the boy who deflowered me," Laura said.

"That's fine, then, dear. Now I'm going to go and get faced."

After the ceremony, as guests danced to the tuneful stylings of Leroy Schlitz and His Insomniacs, the young couple walked out to the portico. After Bush had finished throwing up several times, he looked deep into his new bride's glazed eyes and said, "Laura, my little gherkin, I picked the Petroleum Museum for our wedding because I've decidered I'm going to be an oilman. Hell, I'm as oily as anybody, right?"

"Oilier, Georgums," sighed his adoring bride. "Oilier than anybody."

While the chances of striking oil in Texas had always been slim to none, George W. Bush was determined to make history. His first venture was called Arbusto. He reminisces, "Ah, Arbusto. I picked that name because somebody told me that was the Mexican word for 'big dong'. Found out later that was bullshit, of course."

Arbusto faltered quickly, hampered by Bush's stubborn unwillingness to drill beyond his backyard. His business partner, James Bath, finally managed to persuade Bush to expand drilling, bankrolled by a $50,000 investment from Salem bin Laden, whose half-brother Osama quickly became a fixture around the company's offices.

"He could do everything," recalls Bush. "If a copier broke down, he could fix it. He'd cook up some mean chili for company picnics sometimes. But I finally had to fire him for violating the Arbusto dress code. He took it well, but he did say something about seeing him again someday. Sorta creeped me out…"

With bin Laden gone, the company's fortunes took a nosedive. Copiers broke down. Chili at company picnics was inedible. Worse still, Arbusto hadn't found a drop of oil.

A panicked Bush decided to try his hand at politics, vying for a Congressional seat in the 19th District. Though popular in Midland, Bush fared less well with voters in Lubbock, who viewed him as an elitist quasi-Northerner, a sort of human/animal hybrid, as it were. Bush nimbly changed his campaign style, incorporating more fart jokes in his stump speeches and making pandering references to his lack of opposable thumbs.

It wasn't quite enough. In the end, his opponent Kent Hance won by 6,000 votes. The duplicitous Hance would later leave the Democrat Party and become a Republican, but Bush remains convinced to this day that Hance was a Communist infiltrator. "I still have old Hancypants under surveillance, and at a time of my choosing, I'm going to smoke him out," avers Bush.

He had no choice but to return to corporate life, but as Arbusto bled more and more red ink, he discovered the real joy of family values. In 1980, novelty presidential candidate Ronald Reagan came through on a promise he'd made to young Bush years before, and named Bush's daddy to his ticket. Through a deft combination of clever campaigning and the desperate subversion of President Carter's efforts to free the hostages in Iran, they won fair and square.

But family also had its downside. Laura gave Bush to twin girls, Frick and Frack, in 1981. Appalled, Bush began to drink heavily again, while the twins watched and learned.

Amid all the malfeasance the newly-minted Vice-President Bush had to oversee in Washington, he made time to look after his son. Hooking him up with that uniquely American breed of businessmen dedicating to propping up failing ventures, he ensured that Bush's career would triumphantly go from weakness to weakness.

Family friend Philip Uzielli sank a million dollars into Arbusto (now renamed Bush Exploration on the premise that pornography might make a successful spin-off business someday). Though this wasn't enough to turn the company around, two more failure speculators, Mercer Reynolds and William DeWitt, decided in 1984 to buy out Arbusto and offer Bush the CEO position of their firm, Spectrum 7.

Bush adroitly steered the company to a $1.5 million net loss the following year. Knowing a bad thing when they saw it, a company named Harken Energy then bought Spectrum 7 at a wildly inflated price.

"At last, I understood what the American dream was all about. Finally, all my mistakes were paying off," recalls Bush.

Part V: Walker, Texas Rangers

Welcome to the electric banana, plastic fantastic DUzy Awards, a compendium of star-spangled amusement from this week on DU. Congratulations to this week's winners!

Note to Mods: Skinner has authorized the DUzy Awards to be posted in GD.

OP by FarLeftRage:

      Pictures of a mccain presidency....

GDP, July 18, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by MrScorpio:

      9:12 AM Monday

GDP, July 19, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


On a thread by FLDem5:

      UGH! I just got 'The Real Cindy McCain' chain email.

response #10 by beac

GDP, July 20, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by berni_mccoy:

      MCCAIN IS MISSING!

response #18 by bleever

GDP, July 20, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by evilkumquat:

      New Democratic Party Slogan Revealed

GD, July 21, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by Drunken Irishman:

      Image is everything, Obama should use something like this in his ad.

GDP, July 21, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by Maddy McCall:

      Congrats, DS1. The official photoshopper of the Lounge magazine.

response #9 by DS1

response #10 by mainegreen

The Lounge, July 21, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by Archae:

      Michelangelo's "David" returns to Italy...

response #6 by ForrestGump

The Lounge, July 21, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


On a thread by babylonsister:

      John McCain: Americans Are Tired Of The Blogosphere

response #24 by paxmusa

GDP, July 21, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


On a thread by flpoljunkie:

      PHOTO: BARACK OBAMA arrives in Israel, makes remarks beside his campaign plane

response #3 by Youphemism

GDP, July 22, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by helderheid:

      MSNBC: BREAKING NEWS

response #1 by DuStrange

response #3 by KamaAina

response #4 by ih8thegop

The Lounge, July 22, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by DuStrange:

      And now...the latest J. Chick tract. Pic heavy, baby!

The Lounge, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by mcctatas:

      My 5 year old learned an important lesson from the cat today...

The Lounge, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by zulchzulu:

      Photoshop fun with the McCain poster

response #1 by Zynx

response #16 by Bleachers7

response #7 by undergroundpanther

response #11 by Ikonoklast

GDP, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by sheeptramp:

      Caption McCains supermarket photo op

response #1 by exothermic

response #3 by tridim

response #5 by SoCalDem

response #7 by Bornaginhooligan

response #10 by Turbineguy

response #12 by liberal N proud

response #19 by ColbertWatcher

response #14 by ColbertWatcher

response #15 by Liberal Veteran

response #17 by XOKCowboy

response #18 by Kierkegaard

response #25 by Sabriel

response #38 by bulloney

response #44 by SmileyRose

GD, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by grantcart:

      McCain Campaign: Pictures are not fair -- clear thinking not fair

GDP, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by NightWatcher:

      Who is John McCain? (this pictograph will explain)

response #1 by lonestarnot

response #2 by jimshoes

response #3 by calimary

GD, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by TheZug:

      My Version of the Creepy McCain Poster

GDP, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by lame54:

      Who Is The Better Dribbler? - Obama or McCain?

GD, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


On a thread by MN Against Bush:

      Caption this picture

response #1 by mcctatas

response #2 by SoonerPride

response #3 by RoyGBiv

response #8 by aint_no_life_nowhere

response #10 by bobbiejo

response #11 by LowerManhattanite

GDP, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


On a thread by helderheid:

      Bush 08?

response #2 by loveable liberal

response #4 by liberal N proud

GD, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by dancingme:

      That golf cart photo reminds me of

response #3 by VolcanoJen

response #6 by FSogol

GDP, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


On a thread by jefferson_dem:

      Obama Overseas! In Presidential Mode! Back Home, It’s McCain in a Golf Cart. (NYT)

response #6 by FSogol

GDP, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


On a thread by LeftyMom:

      Rescue Kitties, as promised.

response #6 by sasquatch

The Lounge, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by RNdaSilva:

      ****** The 44th President of the United States of America ******

response #4 by BushDespiser12

response #11 by RNdaSilva

GDP, July 23, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by Richardo:

      Photo of Obama not connecting with white people...

response #8 by chimpsrsmarter

GDP, July 24, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by Steve_DeShazer:

      MAJOR fashion alert

response #3 by Captain Angry

response #9 by SmileyRose

response #11 by Lasher

response #12 by DCKit

response #24 by Virginia Dare

response #29 by Contrary1

response #33 by DS1

GD, July 24, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by prodn2000:

      Interesting Factoid: When Barack Obama wins in November....

GDP, July 24, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by Lex:

      Hey, did you hear McSame had a political rally today? (pic)

response #2 by lob1

GD, July 24, 2008: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discu...


OP by Breeze54:

      I opened DU's HTML Look Up Table and look what I got !!! WTF?!

response #1 by sui generis