Thursday, May 29, 2008

What The Mouthpiece Saw




Scott McClellan's tell-all tome burns through our narrow political spectrum, providing cheap entertainment as the Bush regime fades from view. I love rat-leaving-the-sinking-ship memoirs, insider trash about former masters and the wretched behavior they assumed was private and off the record. It's a hallowed American genre, and who better to dish than a former administration mouthpiece like McClellan? I've yet to read the entire book (I'm saving it for beach reading, along with "The Kelvin Adjunct," and "Bacon Grease Days") but the excerpts I've seen so far tantalize:

*Scooter Libby's late night frolics with hirsute teen girls, watching them smear hummus on each other's fuzzy faces while Libby masturbated into specimen cups, "to ensure future generations of greatness," as Libby often put it.

*Karl Rove's ghastly halitosis which, in McClellan's words, "inspired President Bush to reminisce about the Mexican prostitutes he frequented in his youth, speaking in a strained Spanish accent while dancing around Rove, snapping his fingers."

*Al Gore being bribed into conceding Florida in 2000, using secret funds channeled through the Saudi royal family and delivered personally to Gore by Merv Griffin.

*Ari Fleischer gargling with peroxide before each press briefing, having McClellan pinch his nipples for luck while clapping his hands and saying, "Groovemaster's comin' to get ya!"

*Dick Cheney's penchant for handing subordinates pornographic playing cards, then smirking, "That's me in the mask."

*Barbara Bush disrupting a cabinet meeting by letting loose her pet Gila Monsters, Candy and Spank, on the conference table, warning Colin Powell and Condi Rice that the lizards loved "dark meat" before serenading her "babies" with a strange lullaby about sun-baked rocks.

*President Bush's obsession with sodomizing Saddam Hussein. According to McClellan, "For weeks before the invasion, the president went into intimate detail about how he would, in his words, 'Fuck that sand merchant's shit pipe,' complete with humping gestures, graphic sex talk, and always ending with a very theatrical fake orgasm, his face twisted with pleasure, his tongue darting back and forth. Afterward, the president would mime zipping up his pants, then say to whoever was in the room, 'That's the plan, anyway.'"