Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Dear Dick

Dear Dick,

OK, enough is enough. You and Karl wanted me to run in 2000 and I said "Yes." But I didn’t figure six years later I’d still be stuck in The White House. Heck, I was as surprised as anyone that I won.

All I wanted to do was serve out the four years and then get back to my ranch. But then 9/11 happened and you guys were all "Let’s get Saddam! Let’s get Saddam!"

I never knew what the heck Saddam had to do with 9/11. But Rummy kept saying we had to invade Iraq and you were all cheering him on.

Everyone was telling me it was a slam dunk and the next thing I know I’m on an aircraft carrier in a flight suit in front of a "Mission Accomplished" sign. You can tell Karl again, "Thanks for nothing."

Well, surprise, surprise; Iraq’s a big mess. Thanks to that, I was sure I’d be done in 2004 but, I’ve gotta admit, that Swift Boat stuff was amazing. Trouble is, instead of getting back to Crawford, I end up winning a second term.

Look, Dick, this is just not working out. Everything we touch turns to crap. You guys told me to cut taxes, so I cut taxes. You told me to go to war, so I went to war. You told me not to worry about Katrina, so I didn’t worry about Katrina. Now even those nice folks in New Orleans hate me.

You know, I’m getting a bit gun shy here. It’s not like I think you guys don’t know what you’re doing. But maybe it’s time you took the heat for all these decisions yourselves.

Now I’m not going to walk away on you tomorrow. But I’m sure as shoot not going to serve two more whole years. This is one lame duck who ain’t gonna fly, if you know what I mean.

As I recall, the deal was that I run for President. Nobody said anything about winning or serving two terms. I’ve already put in six years and I gotta tell you, Dick, I’m tired. And now that we lost the House and maybe even the Senate, I’m really losing my enthusiasm. After all, how long can I keep using the same lines?

So here’s the deal. I’m going to step aside and let you take over. Heck, you’re doing most of the work as it is. You might as well get the credit for it, too.

Now I know it wouldn’t look good if I resigned. But I’ve gotta do something. I can’t take any more of those daily briefings and, if I have to try and stay awake through one more Cabinet meeting, I’m going to scream or maybe even launch a missile or two.

So hows about I step down and say it’s for personal reasons? You know, I want to spend more time with my family or some nonsense like that. I’ve heard other guys say that kind of stuff all the time and get away with it. How come I can’t do it, too?

Or maybe I could just go missing. You know, like Amelia Erhardt or D. B. Cooper. I could just sneak back to the ranch and no one would even have to know.

But I’m telling you, Dick, if you don’t come up with a plan real soon I’m going to think of one all by myself. And you know what happened the last time I did that. From what they tell me, folks are still trying to sort out that prescription drug benefit for seniors.

So let me resign or step down or just go home. I don’t care what you call it or how you do it. So long as I’m gone.

Because if you don’t figure out a way for me to leave, I swear I’ll do something crazy like get impeached. Or maybe I’ll get really wild and start making all my own decisions. Like maybe I’ll invade France or I’ll tax all the oil companies. How’d you like them apples?

Last chance, Dick. This time I’m not kidding. Two more years of this nonsense? No way. I’m outta hear.

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