 we are still pals, right? Sunday, December 11, 2005 If you haven't been paying attention since Scooter Libby's indictment, VP Cheney (if that is really him and not a holgraphic image of the late Dick Cheney) is not around much at the White House. Karl Rove seems slightly short on ideas (short of fund raising and saving his own ass). Delay, he of the dick-headed, crooked Texas politico elite (who is trying to rush his trials to save his spot as lapdog, bigwig asswipe) is as powerless this holiday season as the Iraqi military. But whatever shifts and struggles may be taking place within the inner circled-square, the Bush operation remains prickishly stand-offish to its 'Publican allies outside the White House. Possibly their (BushOp) collective pussy is still sore and draining over the less than smiling faces the usually mindless supporters gave the nomination of Harriet Whats-Her-Face (how quickly we forget). For inky-dink, when Senate Judiciary Committee chairman Snarlin' Arlen Specter wanted to have a private word with his Eminence last week about the extension of the Patriot Act, he was forced put on a tuxedo and wait in line at one of the White House Christmas parties like any other mere mortal. But Specter still denies any suggestion that Dub has been distant to his posse and says the President remains 'confident and sunny,' going so far as to grab-dick with Specter about his raggedy trench coat during a recent trip to Pennsylvania: 'Arlen, we're going to have to upgrade your wardrobe.' Yeah, yours too Mr. President...put a terrycloth bathrobe on or something, the Emperor still has no clothes. W-ink. Nikon FE2+55mm Macro. TMax 100. Fill a stocking. Sigur Ros. Watch. Comment (3) | Permalink |
