Blame it on Obama, the voters, Hillary, Bubba, or part or all of these. But, Hillary Clinton is now one angry woman, with enough rage to scare every death row inmate in California.
She delivered a speech last night, very Presidential, and I even thought she was Commander-Between-The-Sheets er...er...er...Commander-in Chief!
Why the anger? Well, she had just missed being the Democratic Party's Presidential Candidate and she is behaving like a 5-alarm fire out of countrol. She manages to maintain proper decorum when she appears in public by using Dr. Schwartzman T. Zucker's, 'Shtop Mit Das Enger' training she is taking along with hubby Bill, more likely known today as Bubba.
But, in hotel room after hotel room while together, Hillary and Bill have trashed at least $150,000 worth of hotel property, as Dr. Zucker hides in a closet.
Hillary lost her Presidential bid and a likely win over the 71-year old walking dead, Senator John McCain, but Bubba, ultimately, lost a key to the White House door and his favorite room for taking a few 'Presidential Breaks' with one Ms. Lewinsky. So, Hillary is not going to be the next U.S. Prez and 'Zipper Boy Bill' will not be able to think he's the Prez. Said Dr. Zucker, "Dis iss not guut for mending. I trevel all places mit these two shmucks, but za pay is very comfortable. La chaim [To life!]!"
Said Bill to Dr. Zucker, "How my gonna get me some like before? Heck, like you, Ms. Lewinsky, she was a tribute to Moses. You know, she was the first recorded BJ on a Prez and done by a zoftig [ample] Jewish lady. Man, you need to try her out!" Out the window went a lamp when Hillary heard that and screamed.
"You bastard Bill, how could you?" "Well, Hill, I just got her in there, unzipped and now my proteins are part of her proteins. She still has the Prez in her!" "Man, oh, Man! Bastard, bastard, bastard Bill, and, to make matters worse, that Halfrican stole my Commander-in Chief shot!"
"Yell! Yell! Yell! Yell!," interjected Dr. Zucker. "In 5 minutes you both feel guut!"
Immediately, Hillary went to the phone and called a friend. "George, he'a a pig. Our date's still on? Good! Beverly Hills Hotel, Saturday, 4 PM, usual room, champagne, strawberries, canned whipped cream? Chocolate? Good. See ya, big boy!
Oh, Bill, I'll be out of town tomorrow through Sunday. Mr. Clooney wants a romp. Oh, and he says, Hello!"
© 2008 Religion Monthly