7:00 P.M. Wednesday June 30th 2010 Obama – Holder In Danger

The President’s chopper touched down on the South Lawn of the White House grounds. As the President emerged Sasha and Malia greeted him with warm hugs and accompanied him as he walked towards the main building. The girls were so happy to see their Dad since his busy schedule had kept him from doing the things they normally do. He had just given a puff speech at a town hall meeting filled with union and party supporters in Wisconsin and he was tired. He did his best to convince the crowd that the economy was getting better but he could see on their faces it wasn’t working. They were polite but not convincing enough for the embattled President.
Earlier in the day General Betray-Us received a 99-0 vote confirming his command of the Afghan war by the U.S. Senate. Interestingly many of the same Senators condemned him years earlier for his attempt to save Iraq with the now successful Surge. Senators from the left nicknamed Petraeus General Betray-Us at that time, and now they were asking him to win America’s longest war. The General felt vindicated as much pain was felt in that hollowed chamber as those Senators’ from the left cast their votes for him.
It was 8:10 when the President received a phone call from his Attorney General, Eric Holder from Kabul, Afghanistan. This highly unusual trip to a war zone by an Attorney General was suspect by President Karzai. Karzai was not stupid and he remembered the way George Bush Sr. took care of drug dealer, money laundering President Noriega of Panama back in 1989. He had no intentions of letting that happen to him, so he assigned a few of his assassins to accompany Holder while he did his rounds. He knew Eric was there for his head and it would be a cold day in hell he’d let that happen. The first sign of a move against him, Holder would be a dead man, Karzai calculated. “Listen Barack,” Holder said, “I just had breakfast and I’ve got what I need, now can I get the fuck out of this hell hole?” “OK, great we’ll meet when you get back. You’re sure right, I mean you do have everything, we can’t screw this up, right?“the President said. “Oh yeah, I got it all. It wasn’t hard, he’s looking at a minimum of 200 years with good behavior” as Holder laughed into the phone.
President Obama and his Attorney General were plotting to bring drug and RICO charges against President Karzai of Afghanistan in an attempt to disrupt the war effort. He knew he could derail the top brass’s military efforts by arresting Karzai and shipping him back to the U.S. for trial leaving the civilian government in disarray. By standing on moral ground and charging him with drug trafficking the American people would understand, but the military would be furious as this backward country imploded. He also knew that this would destroy Petraeus’s efforts to win the war and his Presidential run as the 516th day of the Obama Presidency continued to disrupt.

8:38 A.M. Tuesday June 29, 2010 Obama – Bring Me The Head of Rick Santelli

The President was watching one of his state-owned channels CNBC, on the replaced Oval Offices TV when Rick Santelli from the floor of the Chicago Mercantile Exchange started ranting “STOP SPENDING, STOP SPENDING, STOP SPENDING.“ It was as though Rick was yelling through the TV at him. After this weekend’s humiliating putdown by seven of the eight G-8, the President blew like an ancient volcano, spewing curses never heard in this sacred office. As he proceeded to scream at the screen he started his infamous windup with the new remote control. He followed through in his completely unorthodox throw with a premature release that landed his remote smack-dab in a group of 300 year old Imari porcelain ginger jars. At that, everyone rushed into the Oval Office including members of the daily briefing team which he was to meet at 9:00. He then raged internally as the group of 10 in the office observed a very pissed off President. “Get me Immelt in New York,” he barked. Luckily Jeff Immelt, CEO of General Electric, soon to be ex-owner of NBC, was on vacation in Europe and missed the Presidential tirade. “I thought he was going to fire that guy last year. Now he’s really getting under my skin. I don’t know who I hate more Santelli or Limbaugh,” the President went on.
The President finished up his Daily Briefing and moved on to his meeting on the BP Deepwater Horizon oil spill while still staying in the Oval Office. That meeting went down horribly as they reported no change and more oil hitting the beaches. This spill is like a toothache, he thought, that won’t go away.
He then spent the next two hours in a very private lunch and deep conversation in Arabic with Abdullah of Saudi Arabia in the Cabinet Room. While the President discussed the new Israeli airbase on Saudi soil and the imminent attack on Iran, FBI counterintelligence agents were interrogating the 11 Russian spies caught red-handed yesterday. This was embarrassing for the President because he wasn’t told about the investigation. As a matter of fact this operation was conducted at such a high level that only the FBI and CIA directors along with the Secretary of Defense knew of it.
The investigation came up with conversations and arrangements with fundraisers for members of congress, thus the high priority. At this point there were 7 members from the House and 5 from the Senate, all Democrats. The investigation was started 3 years ago and was found through tools provided by the Patriot Act. Unfortunately, for us, they had been operating for almost 20 years. That left 17 years of unbridled manipulation of our political system, something that many on the right had suspected but couldn’t quite put their fingers on. They could feel and see its effects but couldn’t touch it. With the 11 spies now under roof they were coming up with good leads connecting not only Russia but the Middle East. The team was coming close to someone big in Saudi Arabia, but it would take more time chatting with these saboteurs.
The President got an uneasy feeling about this bust and ordered daily updates. So far the President was told that these operatives worked for dual bosses that connect Middle Eastern and Russian interests. The FBI suspected that the interest was oil as the 515TH day of the Obama Presidency flowed on.

3:33 P.M. Monday June 28th 2010 Obama’s Hurricane Tipper

It’s a funny thing about Washington, when you think you understand who and what forces are at work making policy, there always seems to be a wild card that pops up that completely changes the game plan. This was one of those times.
Wayne Whitefield, a topnotch divorce attorney from Nashville, was having a late lunch with one of Senator Harry Reid’s aides at Bourbon Steak in the Four Seasons in Georgetown. Wayne was known in Tennessee as the hillbilly attorney to the country stars and was now representing his biggest client ever, Tipper Gore. He knew that this meeting was probably one of his most sensitive discussions involving a client's divorce and one misstep could end his star-studded career in a D.C. second. The room was quiet and almost deserted with only one other couple on the other side of the room. “OK, Wayne what’s the damage?” the aide said. Wayne replied, “Half a billion tax free.” “Jesus Wayne, what’s your cut on this deal?” Wayne smiled while adjusting his glasses which always seemed to slip down on his nose whenever he got nervous. “Alright, Wayne what does this legislation have to fear?” “First off, my client has emails, taped phone conversations and messages along with personal conversations which have been documented and corroborated. Mr. Gore’s pet project is nothing more than a money making scheme with no real science behind it. Now, my client is teetering on a fence. She’s being pulled between simply exposing the fraud or just taking the money and running. I, of course, have advised her to take the money,” as he smiled. The aide smirked back thinking, you son-of-a-bitch you’re going to make a fortune on this.
“What’s the timing on this,” the aide said? “We’d like a settlement before the midterm elections,” Wayne smoothly commented, knowing that it was his only window of opportunity. He knew that after that the congressional balance will change against the Climate Bill and passage would be doomed for at least the near future. Wayne shoved a package over to the aide containing a small sample of his evidence just to get the President’s attention. He knew this would go all the way so he acted as though he was negotiating with the big guy himself. “Alright Wayne I’ll pass this on and get back to you as soon as I have something concrete.”
Three hours later the aide with Mr. Reid’s approval met with Rahm to pass on the bad news. Rahm knew that Tipper was going to destroy this Bill if he let her. Paying her was almost out of the question, which left quieting her. Quieting can come in many forms Rahm knew, but which should it be, Marilyn Monroe style or a smear campaign. While Rahm and the President whispered for 30 minutes in the Oval Office, dinner was being served to the first family. After this weekend's disastrous meeting he just heard that his latest victim, General McChrystal, was retiring and had a ten million dollar tell-all book deal. He thought, yeah and I bet his book is released right before the midterm elections, as the 514th day of the Obama Presidency popped another pill.

6:16 P.M. Sunday June 27th 2010 Obama Needs Prozac

The President finished his 30 minute press conference at the close of the G-20 meetings in Canada. He thought how horrible it went. He wanted to discuss it with someone but everyone close to him had already moved on to D.C. Then his phone rang, it was Rahm at the White House. “Yeah Rahm, what now?” “What the fuck was that Barry?” Rahm called him that when he wanted to get under his skin. Rahm had watched the President's horrible press conference on his now replaced Oval Office TV.“OK, you know I can’t talk, otherwise I’d rip you a new one.” “Listen, Mr. President” he went on more respectfully “guess who’s running for President.” “Don’t fool around, I’m in no mood for this.” “Fox is running a two hour biographical puff piece on General you know who.” “No” he said “that son of bitch” as two female assistants looked awkwardly at him. “I have further information that most radio talk shows have been told to push the General as lead topics on national networks this week. Damn, he thought to himself, we control the major networks and this alternative news crap is bypassing us and doing a better job in getting the other side’s information out. So, Petraeus forces me to lengthen our stay in Afghanistan, relax the rules of engagement, increase our troop numbers and then shoves this unofficial run for the White House straight up my ass. The President knew that when Petraeus won in Afghanistan it would be the General who would get the credit, not him. Even the likes of Senator Diane Feinstein, a Democrat from liberal northern California, was spouting his praises. Jesus Christ, he thought, why don’t you just vote the guy in now Diane, what about me, he thought? The President's narcissistic character flaw was starting to kick in as he got hotter under the collar over this thing. “Son of a bitch”, he repeated two more times. The limo pulled up to AF-1. Everyone boarded and with a one last goodbye wave by the President at the top of the steps they were on their way back home. If the President knew what was waiting for him this coming week he would have told the pilot to head for Hawaii and a quiet beach full of ganja and dancing girls.
Admiral Mullen, Chairmen of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the United States Military, met with most of Israel’s top brass this early Monday morning in Tel Aviv. The surprise visit threw even the Iranians for a loop, as this unusual high level meeting went on inside secured facilities. Iran was getting nervous as the top brass from both countries discussed its fate. News had starting to leak out of an Israeli plot to silence Iran’s nuclear program by using the countries of Georgia and Azerbaijan as a base of operations. This information got to Mullen who was never told of this apparent plan B. He was quite perturbed over the new information and altered his trip to Afghanistan to discuss this new wrinkle affecting the Middle East.
Back in Washington the President met with Rahm. It was now nearly 10:00 P.M. and he was bushed. They discussed the Stripper meeting which ticked off the President even more. “My own CIA chief can’t even talk to me” he hissed in a low whisper. “Panetta knows, doesn’t he? That’s why he won’t tell me. They’re investigating my connections to Soros aren’t they?” “I wouldn’t rule anything out sir” Rahm murmured. The President then left the room and headed for bed.
The President was riding high going into the G-8 meetings and after the first 4 hours it was pretty obvious his economic agenda was not going to fly with the Europeans. After two days of getting his ass kicked by the socialists from over there he realized his American economic plan could not fly on its own leaving him with a big goose egg of a policy. He knew for his plan to work it was going to take all of Europe to cooperate. It seemed to the President as though the European leaders were plotting against him. It was almost as though they knew what his game was and they weren’t buying it. He could almost see them laughing at him behind his back. His egocentric manner was not used to this kind of treatment as the 513th day of the Obama Presidency fell into a deep depression.

9:30 P.M. Saturday June 26th 2010 Obama’s Palace Guards

While the President spent his second working night in Canada with G-8 and G20 meetings, a half a world away Captain Shelanski of the nuclear aircraft carrier U.S.S. Harry Truman could see to his port side the island of Mayyun just off the southwestern coast of Yemen. This narrow passage is the entrance to the Arabian Sea and the last spot where land forces could attack his 19 ship flotilla. Unfortunately, passage through the Red Sea was delayed because of Pentagon hesitations due to the command issue of McChrystal and Petraeus in Afghanistan. He knew his mission and now Petraeus’s in Afghanistan were all interconnected and understood the reason for the delay. Knowing the command shift was not only a personnel shift but also a policy change. Petraeus will now get everything he wants to win the war and that meant more troops and easing of the strangling rules of engagement. He knew this was looked on in the States as a political victory of strength for the President but everyone in the Pentagon knew it was a policy shift, with a new 5 year plan for Afghanistan with no pull out in 2011.
The Captain sipped on his coffee as the island slipped to his stern. He felt good this clear sunny day, knowing everything was on track for his positioning off the southern coast of Iran just south of the point at Band Jask. Strategically this was a safe position to guard the Straits of Hormuz without interference from the ragtag Iranian Navy. Any closer could be dangerous for the fleet when the action started. He was following the developments out of Iran and the cancellation of the Iranian relief ship to the Gaza Strip. The Pentagon interpreted this move by Iran as a signal they knew something was up. Last week’s headlines in every Arabic newspaper had his passage through the Suez in bold letters so it was known by all, he was coming. Experts had determined that the firepower on the Truman could bring Iran to its knees. If you included the two nuclear subs, we’re talking a one way ticket for every Iranian to Jannah. The Jewish-American Captain made sure his coordinates were on track as the flotilla progressed to the soon to be war zone.
The President’s nose started dripping again as slight whiffs of tear gas could be detected by the members. The demonstrators downtown were at it again, with riot police actually trampling them with their horses. It was so reminiscent of Czar Nicholas’s Palace Guards slaughtering the demonstrators in the streets of Moscow prior to the Bolshevik Revolution. Of course the members knew nothing of what was going on outside the gates that kept them safe from the hoards. After all as time goes by, things just never do change, do they, as the 512th day of the Obama Presidency trampled on.

9:00 P.M. Friday June 25th 2010 Presidential Tear Gas

“What the fuck is going on here Tim? We’re up here for what, for them to tell us what the hell to do? “It seems so, sir” the geeky Treasury Secretary said to the President. “I thought the plan was to spend? If we’re all on different tracks how the hell are we going to pull all of this together? I’m confused. My domestic policy is set up to dovetail with the European model, now these wackos are changing the ground rules. I’m starting to look like a first class fool Tim.” Deep down, Tim thought, you’re starting huh? He wondered where the Presidents brain has been the past 6 months.
“What’s that smell Tim?” “Yes, I smell it, sir.” One of the Secret Service men after hearing that, jumped into the conversation which was not tolerated, but since it could be considered a security matter, he mentioned that it was tear gas that was used on the thousands of demonstrators that had gathered in the nearby town of Huntsville. The President thought to himself, it was our people that were always tear gassed. Now it’s the other guys getting the gas, he chuckled to himself, if they only knew what was really going on.
Rahm was back in D.C. walking the CIA tightrope, finding out more information about the sabotage of the BP Deepwater Horizon platform. He was instructed to meet with an unnamed member of a field unit investigating the sinking in a vacant parking lot just outside of town, but ironically close to Langley. His identifying codename was Stripper, which made Rahm wonder why these guys always came up with X-rated names.
Stripper was punctual for the meeting. They both rolled down their driver’s side windows and began. “Listen Rahm,” he said in a familiar manner, “the agency is investigating the President, that’s why you’re not getting briefed on this.” That explains why Panetta wouldn’t reveal anything at his lunch with the President, Rahm thought. Shit, shit, shit he went on to himself. These guys are going to fuck us big-time. “OK, now what” Rahm said to Stripper? “Now what, what?” he shot back at Rahm. “Are you kidding, Rahm? From what I’ve seen the connection between Soros and Ahmadinejad is a done deal and the Chavez connection is a given, since they used a small seaside town in Venezuela as a staging point for the attack. The problem for your boss is what Panetta is going to do with the information. Panetta is getting big pressure from the board”, which is the term used for the guys that act as the moral backbone for the Agency. Shit, shit Rahm kept thinking. I got those fuckers in Chicago after my ass and now this, Christ this is turning into one big ass nightmare. Rahm drove off in a haze thinking what now, what now?
The President started sneezing as the tear gas smell got stronger. He quickly ran inside looking for a handkerchief. “Tim do you have one.” Tim handed him his. As the President pressed the handkerchief to his nose he could feel the crusty nasty pieces of Tim’s rag against his skin. What the fuck, the President said to himself as the 511th day of the Obama Presidency dripped on.

8:50 P.M. Thursday June 24th 2010 The Hamburger from Hell

The President made sure that everything was ready for his early morning hop to Huntsville, Canada for the G8 meeting with world leaders. Michelle, still pissed about his lunch today, poked her head into the bedroom and literally yelled at him “Barack, what’s up with that lunch with Dmitry today?” The President knew it was coming but not now, he thought, Christ not now. “Yeah, sweetheart what-cha-mean?” “You know what I mean” she blurted. “Those goddamn hamburgers you guys had today. I’m out spreading the word about proper eating and I got you making headline news while eating greasy hamburgers. Now what kind of message are you sending by doing that?” “Sweetheart it was Dmitry’s idea.” The President thought back to after lunch when Dmitry let out a sound byte to reporters about how unhealthy it was to eat a burger. He of course literally inhaled it, it was so good. The President thought, that fucking Bolshevik covers his ass and leaves me holding the bag. Then she started into the smoking thing, rattling on about how he promised not too, but now he was back sucking on those cancer sticks again. Damn he thought, one of those sticks would be nice right about now.
Today, was not as crazy as yesterday but the news of his polls was seriously bad for this sinking President. The people are getting more angry as time goes on and his phony firing act of McChrystal didn’t seem to help, if anything it appeared to hurt.
The vision of Iranian Special-Ops planting explosives 100 feet beneath the Deepwater Horizon kept running through his mind. He knew, and most everyone in the world would know, that only one person would benefit from the shutting down of the Gulf oil rigs and that person was his biggest single supporter, George Soros. A blind man could connect those dots. With the CIA now in the game he was starting to feel the pressure of another front opening up. This problem would now be added to the long list of disasters he created in his short term in the White House.
News coming out of Chicago wasn’t so rosy either with the Blago trial now exposing members of his White House staff, specifically Rahm his Chief. He lamented that it would be a bitch if what happened in Chicago would take him down. He knew if the right people talked his Presidency would be over in a flash. Chicago was a cesspool and everybody was involved and vulnerable. He knew the problem wasn’t Chicago and the machine. It was him winning the White House. That wasn’t supposed to happen. His ambitions were noble but considering the fish bowl he was swimming in he just may have put the entire machine under the microscope of a very smart Federal Prosecutor. That prosecutor was now about to send the infamous Governor of Illinois to the slammer for years and he smelled more blood in the water.
The President’s head sank into his down pillow as he tried to sleep, while Michelle’s snoring murmured in the background as day 510 of the Obama Presidency sank further

7:44 P.M. Wednesday June 23rd 2010 The Oily Truth

The President’s day went on and on like an endless Wimbledon match. Earlier in the day he quickly dismissed General McChrystal, his commander of the Afghani war and surprisingly replaced him with General Petraeus. The General was visibly taken aback by his new assignment. Obama knew by replacing McChrystal with Petraeus he would be killing two birds with one stone. Petraeus, Obama’s arch political rival for the 2012 Presidential election was getting to close for comfort and by assigning him to the front, maybe just maybe an IED would eliminate his foe. He knew by using the overblown charge against McChrystal he would create disruption and confusion within our ranks at the front and would further his goal for losing. He knew with more body bags coming back and additional lost battles the American people will be begging him to withdraw. That would discredit Petraeus with a lost war under his belt and could dismantle his run for President.
Furthermore, sadly, General McChrystal missed the movie “Almost Famous” where the movie producer Cameron Crowe, in his youth was assigned to a rock group by Rolling Stone Magazine, the very same magazine that took down the General. Crowe subsequently destroyed the rock group with his article. So, anyone who saw the movie would have known, you never let a Rolling Stone writer live with you for months unless you’re just plain crazy.
With all that behind him and the Petraeus confirmation on a fast track the President met with his Chief of Staff. The big thing that was missed in yesterdays overturning of the offshore drilling freeze was that there was no proof of why and how the platform exploded. That was the mystery of the century which everyone has been missing and they were missing it because forces in the state-controlled-media were working overtime to make sure it stayed off the internet and out of the papers.
Rahm motioned to the President to sit on a small bench in the Rose Garden. He sat next to him, so close any passerby would have thought they were gay. The President knew that if anyone knew of the content of this conversation his Presidency would be over, so the whispers began. Rahm led off with “the CIA got the videos from BP, the hard way, they broke in.” “Oh Jesus” replied the President.”What was on them” his voice quivered? “It’s bad sir, real bad. From what I’ve been told, it was a foreign special operations attack two weeks prior to the explosions.” “Who, Rahm, who?” Rahm took a breath knowing what he was about to say could start a war. “Iranian Revolutionary Guard insignias were detected with close-ups while they placed explosives on the line and platform supports.” “It looks like Soros has stepped over the line and he’ll destroy us if this gets out.” The conversation went on for another 40 minutes with another update promised in a few days. The President knew that if the CIA connected the dots between Soros and the IRG, treason would be just one of many charges brought against him as day 509 of the Obama Presidency oozed on.

9:00 A.M. Tuesday June 22nd 2010 The Presidential TV

The early morning phone call that robbed the President of most of his night’s sleep was now front page news. The third part of his three way phone conversation last night with Robert Gibbs his White House Press Secretary and Robert Gates his Secretary of Defense addressed a soon to be released article in Rolling Stone Magazine that was emailed to Gibbs by the editor. Everyone was talking about it and his commanding General in Afghanistan was summoned to meet with his boss in the Oval Office on Wednesday. Most speculated that the superb American warrior would be fired and relieved of his assignment. For General McChrystal’s only crime was telling it like it is, which didn’t go down well with this embattled President. This whole thing broadsided the President as he continued to unsuccessfully juggle the nation’s state of affairs. Any outsider could see that there was chaos everywhere in the managing of the country. War had broken out in almost every department, caused by the influx of radicals introduced by the President and his crew. Now it looked like the military had had it with his administration. He knew of the tension with the upper brass but this article illustrated the downright contempt the average soldier had for him, his administration and the whole world would know about it on Friday. Knowing that he would be meeting with the G-8 on Friday, he would be looked upon as a fool by the leaders of the world. He wondered why the General would be so candid with a liberal rag like Rolling Stone if it wasn’t intentional. What’s his game the President kept milling over and over in his mind? These military types play chess better then we civilians, there’s got to be some plan afoot and that little question was driving him nuts.
Attorney General Holder called the President shortly after 10:00 A.M. to inform him that his deep water drilling ban was overturned by a Louisiana Federal Judge. “What do you suggest we do now sir” holder exclaimed? “Executive order” the President mumbled. “Yeah but what about the executive order for amnesty, wouldn’t that be pushing things a bit? We’d be ruling by executive order without the consent of the people. If you think your polls are bad now, just wait” Holder asserted. “Fuck them” as the President turned on his new flat screen TV that he picked out for the Oval Office. Unfortunately, for the President the janitors had been watching The Fox News Channel the night before, so when the TV flashed on, out popped Bill O’Reilly’s finger pointing straight at the President saying “caution: you’re about to enter the no spin zone.” With that the President wound up in his typical girlish style of throwing and tossed the remote control into the screen breaking it into a thousand pieces as day 508 of the Obama Presidency proceeded in pieces all over the floor.

12:10 A.M. Tuesday June 22nd 2010 the Left Side of the Presidential Bed

The President was having his recurring dream of Vera on the beach in Martinique when a nasty buzz cut through the late evening air, “I’m sorry Mr. President” the voice suddenly announced over his bedroom intercom, “we have a security alert and you’re needed downstairs as soon as possible.” “Yes, I’ll be right down” he grumbled.” Why the hell can’t they leave me alone, as he pointed his face towards Michelle. She mumbled something the President couldn’t understand while turning away from him. “What was that,” he said? With a deliberate twist of her body towards him she said “You said Vera 3 times in your sleep, you fuck.” Oh shit he thought I’m so screwed. That thing was over 10 years ago and my subconscious keeps hanging me, I’m out-a-here.
He slipped down the staircase and entered his communication office along with his four Secret Service men. After 45 minutes he emerged flushed, with his mind whirling. My God, he thought, I need a cigarette and about two days to digest this crap. As he stepped out into the warm Washington night he lit up one of many cigarettes he would be smoking that morning. He strolled through the Jacqueline Kennedy Garden for what seemed like hours while thinking. He was coming to the realization that revolution in America can’t happen unless you have the backing of the majority. His ever thinning ragtag followers are not real believers he thought. They’re in it for themselves and say they believe, but won’t sacrifice for the cause. The only ones I can count on now are the believers who remain in the shadows. Maybe Putin was right, he thought, “be rich and you can be the puppet master.” This whole thing is falling apart and I’m left to answer to the shadows.
He knew that today’s 6-3 Supreme Court decision reinforced the Patriot Act and criminalized any support of any kind for terrorist groups. This was a huge setback for those in the shadows. It could mean that many of his supporters could be charged criminally and that in itself could destroy his Presidency and most of all his plans for America. He thought to himself how a special prosecutor could connect the dots to him using this law and that really tempered his mood.
Part of this morning’s phone call deeply troubled him. The Iranian Revolutionary Guard was rounding up green party supporters and executing them on the spot. He knew this could put a crimp in Gates’s plans for Iran. He was counting on an interim government made up of the Green party, but if they’re all dead that leaves nobody to govern. The possibility of another Iraq left him cold knowing the wheels had already started turning.
The balance of the phone call addressed a radiation leak from a secret reactor in North Korea. For the last two days sensors picked up the leak and the South was getting nervous. Could it be an intentional leak to devastate the South, he thought? He was really starting to hate this job. By turning his back on all U.S. commitments he thought he’d have time for his domestic agenda. But as he has come to realize he would need about 5 more of himself to just act like he was going through the motions. It seemed he couldn’t depend on anyone. Most are looking for the next gig and a big paycheck. You can’t have a revolution with that kind of staff. Something needed to be done and done soon or he could miss his golden opportunity. As he thought of how he would replace his staff with real believers day 508 of the Obama Presidency was just starting in the well manicured Jackie Kennedy Garden.

2:01 P.M. Monday June 21st 2010 Oval Office Bathroom

The President was pleased to see that his plumbing was back to normal. After his heralding episode with that oily fish sandwich last week it was a good feeling. He pulled up his zipper as he exited the bathroom with confidence knowing that there would be no more intestinal disruptions.
His post Father’s Day Bar-B-Q went smooth, without a mess-up on his part, and the ribs were fabulous. However, two things stuck in the President’s claw this afternoon. The Senator Kyl YouTube statement, and the Rahm Emanuel early departure rumor. He knew these fires needed to be put out and put out fast. His credibility and confidence was at stake. He knew of Rahm’s desire to head back to Chicago to take over Daley’s Mayoral position. But why did he leak it now, he thought? Rahm is a smart guy, that midget knows how and when to get information out and this leak was signaling that the rats were jumping ship.
The Senator Kyl video flatly stated that he could care less about people on the border and was holding back troops to defend them. Not until the Republicans rolled over on immigration reform was he going to protect the border. All of this was true and most of the country knew it based on recent polls. This was not good as he thought about escaping to the golf course with somebody nonpolitical.
He breezed through his Economic Reform group meeting at 2:30. The President couldn’t help but think what idiots these people were thinking that he wanted the economy to grow. Even the common tea bagger knew what he was up too, but not these high priests of economics.
“Susan, please set up a meeting with Panetta for Wednesday.” “Yes sir.” He knew he was to meet Putin’s puppet President Medvedev of Russia on Thursday. With the G-8 meeting in Canada on Friday he needed to be up to speed on Putin’s games. This gave the President perfect cover for his inquiry into the BP Deepwater Horizon videos that the agency was after. He wondered if Soros was doing anything about this. I guess his ass wasn’t so on the line, like mine, he thought. Just about the only thing that went well this month was his plea-bargain with BP. He sure had them by the balls as the President dwelled on the only thing that made him happy this moment.
As the Jewish-American Captain of the U.S.S. Harry Truman took to his bridge, the sea was not kind to him today. His briefing with the Israelis on board went well. He thought how devoted these young soldiers are to their mission. Such perfection has been nearly lost these days. When your land, family and life is on the line you better perform or else, he thought. “Captain, you have a secured call from Israel, its Defense Minister Ehud Barak. Did you want to take that in your office?” “Yes, Phil, patch him in, in about 2 minutes.”
Barack looked across the room at his entire Senior Staff who got the message, show up or else. He knew they could care less about the job now and most have already set up fat positions with the new Health Care bureaucracy. I’m getting that lonely feeling again, the President thought as day 507 of the Obama Presidency went through the motions.

12:00 Noon Sunday June 20th 2010 Father’s Day

The President was pleased with his orchestrated and deliberate attacks on CEO Hayward of BP. Hayward’s day of yachting on Saturday made his golfing look like kids' stuff. Rahm’s people won’t let up until that arrogant bastard resigns. They’re doing a hell of a job, he thought, but not enough to take the major heat off, as the oil oozed into the Gulf for the 62nd day. The President enjoyed the morning with his girls and spent the balance of his Father’s Day behind closed doors in the White House.
As the 18 ship flotilla slid through the canal headed for the Red Sea, Captain Shelanski of the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Harry Truman opened his sealed orders as directed by the Pentagon. He already knew what he was about to read. The 30 Israeli air traffic controllers and support personnel sailing along with him were a telltale sign of what he was to do. The irony of all of this was that he was Jewish and a strong supporter of Israel. He felt great pride in knowing that he would be a part of the most ambitious assault on Israel’s enemies in decades. After reading his orders and ordering a staff meeting to share the news, this mild mannered 5’7” Captain ducked into his cabin for a prayer.
Defense Secretary Gates finished up his Fox News interview and proceeded to the White House to review the military's Middle East policy with the President along with other high ranking defense department types.
“Are we really going to do this?” the President in an irritated voice shouted out. As the 23 military and civilian personnel around the giant table looked up in astonishment at his remark, the double doors to the conference room opened allowing Secretary Gates to enter the now engaged room. “Did I miss something?” Gates asked. As the eyeballs darted around the room it was pretty obvious there was tension in the air. Gates thought to himself, it looks like it’s going to be one of those meetings, again. He thought, why can’t these lefties get it straight? We run the military not them.
As Secretary Gates proceeded to deliver the game plan, the President’s demeanor became more antagonistic and downright hostile. The President knew, this plan was going to mess up his entire agenda if it worked. Years of preparation and trillions lost if he allowed it to happen. He just didn’t know if he had the bench to derail this ambitious plan jammed down his throat by his top brass. His top brass, he thought, yeah right, sarcastically.
After two frustrating hours the President exited the steamy conference room and headed in the opposite direction from the rest of the pack, literally and figuratively. His very short Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel ran up behind him and attempted to get his ear. As the President slid sideways in a downward motion to allow this pigmy to communicate, he whispered “Sir the Israeli ambassador to the U.N. resigned last night. You know what that means, right?” “No Rahmmm…… what the fuck does that mean?” he quipped. “War is near” Rahm said while coming off his tippy toes. The president had always suspected Rahm of being Mousad and that last trip he made to Israel nearly convinced him as the 506th day of the Obama Presidency dragged on.

8:33 A.M. Saturday June 19th 2010 White House Communications Room

The President felt much better after yesterday’s late afternoon mishap that ended him on the Presidential throne for 30 minutes, while the members of his staff disbursed like little kids let out of school early. He had good reason for feeling good today. His White Sox won last night against the Nationals and he got to spend 3 hours with his adorable daughters at the game. For 3 hours things seemed normal. Unfortunately, the game went into extra innings and the first family had to leave, but all in all his crazy Friday ended on a happy note. God, I wish I could just quit this job and be a real father again, he thought. He could see that his schedule was distancing himself from the two most important people in his world.
As he laid his Saturday Morning Address to the Nation script down, he was getting that feeling Presidents get in their 3rd and 4th year in office. Yes, that lame duck feeling was creeping into his psyche. After this week’s defeat of another massive spending bill he was getting the message that the people had gotten the message. They weren’t buying this shit anymore and it was pretty obvious. Even members of his party are desperately attempting to save what’s left of their political future by voting against his big government agenda.
The more he blasted the other side, the more he knew it was his own party that was now reining him in. For The Plan to work he needed at least another year. This won’t go down well with “them”, he thought and with yesterdays changes they’re getting more aggressive. Maybe that’s why. Of course, what was I thinking? He knew that with the new changes millions would die and he hoped that could be avoided. Historically, rulers seemed to be remembered more for how many people they killed than the good they did. Killing 50 million Americans was not part of the original plan and he didn’t want to be remembered for something like that. He always believed when studying Mao and Stalin, the more you killed, the less you had to manipulate. It illustrated the failure in a plan rather than its success. His idealistic ways led him to believe that you’ve failed if one person dies, but he kept remembering the dead workers on the Deepwater Horizon and thinking, 11 too many, 11 too many.
The President's weekend schedule was blank to the world but a lot was going on behind the scene. With the late Friday release from Holder’s office of his lawsuit against the state of Arizona, it was pretty obvious that his administration was just going through the motions for their Latino constituents and they knew it. God he thought, this amalgamation of disenfranchised groups we call the democrat party is starting to feed on itself and could lead to the very end of its existence. He had to find a way to get the nation refocused against the other side. We’ve got to do something big and soon or this ship could sink before it reaches port.
“Rahm” he shouted into the phone, “I need you here in the Oval Office, now.” Rahm Emanuel his Chief of Staff who was still feeling the sting of the Israeli people from his trip to a Bar Mitzvah two weeks ago commented “but I thought we were off this weekend?” “Now, Rahm, thanks.” “Yes sir, right away.”
As the President waited for Rahm, he kept thinking about what the good Reverend Wright said about the American black man still serving his master on the liberal Jewish-American plantation as day 505 of the Obama Presidency proceeded with caution.

2:00 P.M. Friday June 18th 2010 Strange Presidential Phone Call

The refreshed President spent most of his morning in Columbus Ohio pushing his stealthy shovel-ready jobs program while occasionally stopping to speak to the crowds. It was pretty obvious that the crowds were peppered with union members and hopeful blacks trying to grab a glimpse of their hero. He knew he looked good today but he was still having bowel movement problems, not quite diarrhea, just messy. He couldn’t help but think that somebody slipped a quart of light sweet crude into that fuck’n fish sandwich on Wednesday in Mississippi.
As he strolled across the empty parking lot with his three guards surrounding him he saw a man approaching him from the left. The man after flashing what appeared to be an identification badge to the Secret Service man, approached him with a strange phone in his hand. He almost hesitated when asked to take it from the man. “This call is for you Mr. President.” He put the phone to his ear as he said hello. The man quickly disappeared while the President listened to the familiar voice on the phone. As the President communicated in perfect native Arabic he started to become upset, which was out of character for him. It was a short conversation but it seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks.
I got to get out of here, he thought, this is bullshit and everybody knows it and I got that Senior Staff Meeting at 2:45. We've lots of fires to put out.
The hour-long flight from Ohio went quickly as he strolled into the White House in heavy thought, so heavy he almost bumped into a 200 year old Americana hall table near the entrance to the Oval Office. He was still mulling over the phone call. Finally, his instructions had come. He had no idea we were going in that direction. They changed the game plan. He didn’t sign up for this kind of shit. He now was faced with the biggest dilemma of his life. A dilemma that could get him and his family killed if he made the wrong move.
Rahm, Valery, Biden, David and Gibbs were the only ones that showed up to the sunny Friday afternoon meeting. Unfortunately, it wasn’t sunny inside at the meeting. “Why the hell can’t I get everybody to a staff meeting? Is running this Presidency now a part time job for you guys?” “If I don’t get 100% attendance at my next meeting, heads are gonna roll. You hear me and pass it on to the rest.” The President was openly pissed off at the 50% attendance to his meeting. Unfortunately, just about everyone on his staff from Chicago could send him up the river if they wanted to and he knew it. So, the bark was louder than any bite. As he stood up behind his desk he felt a gurgling going on in his lower intestine. Rahm gave him a real bad look as his stomach made a noise that sounded like a fart, but wasn’t. “Oh, excuse me,” he quickly blurted. Then he felt a warm wetness oozing from you know where as the 504th day of the Obama Presidency ended with a slam of the President’s bathroom door.

1:52 P.M. Thursday June 17th 2010 White House Private Dining Room

“Mr. President I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch but I have Rahm here and he must see you immediately.” “Sure, let him in.” As the President motioned to Jimmy, his waiter of the day, “Jimmy boy” he said affectionately “could you please get Rahm a coffee, the way he likes it?” “Yes, Mr. President.” As the Presidents Chief of Staff quickly sat down opposite him, he did a flurry of head turns looking around as though someone might be listening. “Mr. President we have a big problem.” Oh great he thought, now what? What else could possibly happen, a nuclear attack on New York City? His lips tightened as his body prepared for the next body blow to his Presidency.
“Mr. President, my sources have informed me, that BP had underwater video cameras up and down the Deepwater Horizon platform and piping.” “No” the President blurted out. “Yes and the images were monitored and captured in their home office in real time in the U.K.” “Meaning, they have videos going back two months prior to the sinking of everything that went on down there, and I mean everything.” The President pulled in closer reaching halfway across the table and whispered “what the fuck do they have?” “It’s not good sir. I don’t think I should tell you specifically, if you know what I mean. It gets worse though, sir. The CIA knows about the videos and is attempting to get to them. “Holy shit Rahm, that fuck’n Soros fucked up, big time.” “How much exposure do we have at this point?” “Nothing, but this is moving fast with the Company now involved and you know how extreme they can be.” “I better schedule a very casual lunch with Panetta next week” the President mumbled.
God damn he thought, what next? “I got to leave Rahm. I’ve got Mabus in the office waiting.””OK, sir I’ll get back with you as this thing develops.”
The President ground through his meeting with the Secretary of the Navy who acted indifferent, since he found out his job was for sale after the Sestak confession last week. He kept thinking through the meeting why BP played ball if they knew. Am I being set up, he thought as sweat formed on his forehead?
Geithner is such a dweeb and half the things he says I can’t understand. I sure hope he and Ben know what the fuck they’re doing because I sure don’t. His meeting with his Secretary of the Treasury lasted only 45 minutes which gave him a chance to take a piss which was the only thing that felt good all day.
The President now moved on to his meeting with Hilary, his Secretary of State. God, he thought, she looks like hell. This traveling is sure beating her up. Good, he thought. The longer I keep her out of the country the less time she has to campaign. “Mr. President we have a problem.” Oh great, here we go again, what the hell’s going on around here, doesn’t anybody have anything good to say? “Karzai has signed a secret agreement with the Taliban to share all drug profits which we feel is a precursor to a pack to run the country after we leave. We are leaving right, Mr. President?” He hesitated to answer, remembering his conversation with Petraeus. As the President danced through the balance of his meeting refusing to answer most of her questions he was done, finished.
His busy day had finally worn him out and it was time to zone out with some mindless TV in the family’s private quarters of the White House. As he puffed on his first cigarette of the day in his padded cell, the Lincoln Bedroom, while watching a rerun of the Sopranos, he couldn’t help but feel a similarity between himself and Tony as the 503rd day of the Soprano, correction Obama Presidency came to a close.

7:15 A.M. Wednesday June 16th 2010 Malia’s Bedroom

He hugged Malia extra long this morning before she ran off to join Sasha for school. This was one of the few moments he had during these busy days to at least get a whiff of her clean hair. This was not going to be a good day for the young President who delivered the worst Oval Office speech ever. He went to bed thinking it was so-so but after reading this morning’s reviews he might as well go out and shoot himself in the side portal. Even his bought and paid for mainstream media attacked with unbridled scorn.
As he reviewed the video of his speech like a losing quarterback of the big game he felt himself sinking into a funk. God, he thought, my skin looks yellow and my ears, shit my ears, sticking out there, ugly and with no support, like me. When are they going to contact me?
General Petraeus, the one man in America that has the power and balls to throw him in jail, survived his little fainting spell on the Hill yesterday, much to the President's chagrin. Ironically that little ditty was at the top of the president’s need to know morning update. Of course the President already knew this. He was instructed before he took office to made it a priority to know everything about the General, where he goes, who he meets and why, especially why.
The late morning meeting with the BP people went as planned but he knew he had a weak showing. He felt himself sinking, sinking into somewhere he hadn’t been in years and he knew just how to get out of it quickly. “Susan, Susan I need that bag.” “The bag sir?” “Yes, the bag.” “Mr. President, are you sure about this?” “Oh yeah, I’m sure.” As she bent at the waist with her ass facing the President while opening a lower draw in her desk he couldn’t help but think, how sweet she’d be……..
He quickly erased the thought as an image of Michelle entered his mind with a 36 inch machete chopping his big fat dick off.
“Here you are sir,” as she handed him a small brown paper bag. He grabbed at it like a long-lost lover. Susan looked at him with displeasure as he moved quickly with his treasure tucked under his perfectly pressed blue suit. As he locked the door behind him in the Lincoln Bedroom his only thought was escape and escape was now only moments away.
He sat at the head of the bed with the contents of the bag spread all over the night table. He lit a match and placed a long object into his mouth while sucking on it with a rush of pleasure beyond compare. That first hit of smoke sent his mind whirling. “Yeah, that’s my baby” as he smiled. ”Yeah, that’s my baby” he repeated as the second exhale emerged from his mouth.
No sooner did that second exhale leave his lips, a thunderous banging on the door scared the hell out him. He could hear Michelle shrieking “Barry, Barry, you in there? God damn you, are you smoking again? You promised.” As a belch came up from yesterdays nearly forgotten fish sandwich he had in the Gulf, the President puked on this 502nd day of the Obama Presidency.

1:00 P.M. Tuesday June 15th 2010 Naval Air Station Pensacola

“Mr. President, you wanted me to remind you when Limbaugh returned from his honeymoon, well heee’s back.” “Great, I get one hour tonight and he gets 3 hours tomorrow to tear me apart.” “Great speech Mr. President, much better response too, a lot better than West Point. “Thank God, anything’s better than West Point.” As he scratched the annoying mosquito bite on the outer rim of his right ear he couldn’t stop thinking about his last conversation with General Petraeus. It left him breathless and completely off balance. I got to have more feedback about this, but how can I if nobody gets back to me, I’m drifting out here people, I’m drifting! Petraeus is getting to be a problem, a big problem. “Sir, I just received a message that General Petraeus has collapsed in a hearing on the hill.” Good, I hope he’s dead! God, did I say that out loud? I got to watch myself, this is dangerous, he thought.
As his body attempted to digest the fish sandwich he downed at 10 A.M., which was way too early for his system. He hurried to his limo which would move him on to D.C. and his preparation for tonight’s speech on the spill or should we say his pitch for Cap and Trade and $5 gasoline.
The President emerged from the helicopter feeling much better to be home. Unfortunately, the bite on his ear was now bleeding from his constant scratching. As he entered the White House he motioned to his aid “Susan, can we get somebody to look at this ear of mine? It seems to be bleeding and I have this speech tonight.” “Yes sir I’ll get the doctor over to look at it right now.”
“Jon, this tenth paragraph about condemning the oil industry is not strong enough. We need something more along the lines of, “nationalization of the oil industry is not outside the realm of possibilities if they can’t police themselves”. Oh and drop those lines about the people of the Gulf, fuck em.” “OK Mr. President. Fuck them? Did you mean the people or the lines?” There was silence over the line. The President knew he slipped up. Jon went on “I’ll do the rewrite and shoot it over to you Mr. President, thank you.”
The President remembered his meeting with Putin last year and it still haunted him. It was the way he cavalierly said “just take the oil industry.” “Just take it! Who will stop you? You can be rich and powerful like me. Politicians can be bought. When you’re rich, no one buys you. You’re the master of your universe.” Little was lost in translation but the President more than understood what he was saying and it’s been compelling him to pull the trigger on part B of the plan and run. Since he’s been left hanging for the past few weeks, it was so tempting.
As Michelle relentlessly went on and on about the kids and her mother the Presidents eyes started drooping. The speech went off like clockwork but he wondered if anyone was buying it. It may have been too obvious, he thought. I got to get that Putin thing out of my head or I’ll blow this whole thing. “Oil” as he laughed to himself, that’s thinking small. When this is over Putin will be licking my boots.
The President turned on his side away from his wife and wished he was back dancing with that Mississippi mosquito instead of listening to her bullshit. Anything was better than this, as day 501 ended on the Obama Presidency.

9:33 A.M. Monday June 14th 2010 Air Force One Somewhere Over Alabama

As the President rubbed his jammed middle finger from yesterdays marathon grudge match with Arne Duncan at the White House he took a moment from his busy morning to notice the puffy white clouds typical of the Gulf states. Air Force One was now approaching Keesler Air Force Base and was now descending for its landing. “Hey you guys can you please keep it down I’m trying to concentrate here. Steven can we talk in here, please?” The President quickly moved his Secretary of Energy into his private office as his ears started feeling the descent. “Steven now you got this straight, right? There’s to be no talk of the permanent offshore oil drilling freeze, right? There’d be a hell of a shit storm if that little bugger got out.” “Yes Mr. President I’ve explained to everyone that this is to be kept hush hush until you say.” “Good, this will jack up the price of oil and eventually hit the American driver by August by as much as 50%.” “Wow, Mr. President $5 gas at the pump will piss em off for sure.” The President thought to himself, good that’ll get those asshole Teabaggers going and that’s just what I want. Knowing that $5 at the pump will slow the economy, his last orders are playing out perfectly, but at the cost of his dwindling poll numbers. He knows not one day can be wasted now with the November midterm elections rushing at him like a freight train.
God damn he hates this fuck’n place as he walked off AF-1. The moist southern air got him sweating as soon as he emerged. He hated that feeling, he hated this place and he hated these people. Gun-toting bible preaching just begins to describe this whole backwater of a place and he felt like an alien every time he opened his mouth and every time he met these fat fucks. Why the hell is everybody so fat down here, he thought to himself, why?
After shaking a hundred hands and being photographed 10,000 times he wished he could jump back on AF-1 and head back to D.C., but he was forced by his handlers to spend the night. Unfortunately, he knew it would be looked upon as a desperate attempt to make him look engaged, but he did it anyway.
His secure Blackberry vibrated in his left pant pocket as he jumped into his limo with three secret service men and Steven while they headed for more meetings on the oil spill. “Yes, yes, I can hear you, yes, what, well the hell with it just block the roads and have McChrystal use other means. If they shut that airbase down we’ll have to set up a meeting.” Thinking to himself, perfect. “Well, it looks like we could lose our Krystan airbase supplying Afghanistan.” Shit, why did I say that so happily he thought as his three Secret Service men looked at him indignantly.
I swear these fuckers are gonna do me in before the Teabaggers do, he thought as he gazed back out over the flat boring terrain of the Gulf coast.
As the President experienced another sleepless night riddled with blood sucking southern mosquito assassins, probably let in by agents of the Christian Right, day 500 of the Obama Presidency ends with a buzzing in his ear.

8:06 AM. Sunday June 13th 2010 Oval Office

“Mr. President, Ambassador Rice on secured line 5.” Damn, another hand holding session, “Yes, Susan what can I do for you this beautiful Sunday morning?” “Mr. President I’ve got this Wallace interview on Fox in an hour and I need some instructions, sir.” “I imagine he’ll want to talk about Afghanistan and Karzai’s latest press releases about us cutting and running and with him joining up with the Taliban. I’d give him the same old line, just tap dance around his questions, we've got big things cooking over here and we don’t want anyone knowing about it.” “What’s that Mr. President?” “Sorry, Susan this is on a need to know basis, your time to know will come soon enough.” “Is this about the thing we talked about last week at the security meeting?” “Yep.” OK, thank you sir, I’ll see you on Thursday at our normal cabinet meeting.” “Have a great day.” That babe’s got to be more secure about her job, she’s way too insecure.
I really hate those English. Yesterday’s meeting was a big waste of time. OK we’re setting up an escrow account, big fuck’n deal the god damn oil is still leaking and my ratings are sinking like the wildlife caught up in that shit.
No contact yet, god damn it, I’m dangling out here like a piñata on Cinco de Mayo. That fuck’n McChrystal has got the generals hopping mad at me over this troop thing. I cut his troop request by 50% and everybody is bitching, hey we’ve got a recession going on, who the hell’s gonna pay for this religious war anyway, me, yeah right!
“Mr. President, President Karzai on secured video conference line 1, did you want to take that? Listen Karen tell him to wait and get me Rahm and Robert for a 4 way, I’ll wait and let me know when we’re ready.” I swear that drug dealing rug weaver is gay. “Karen, I want to talk to Rahm first, before anybody else and I don’t want anyone listening. “ Yes, Mr. President.”
As the President twisted his chair towards the windows, he gazed out at the green gardens thinking about how unloved he’s become by most in the country. He quickly dismissed that negative thought and moved on to the master plan, knowing that everything is on track. When will the next directive come, he thought, when?
The President quickly picked up the phone “Hey Karen, on second thought tell Karzai I’ll call him tomorrow and set up an agreeable time according to my schedule and call Duncan and tell him to meet me down at the court to shoot some hoops at 9.” “Yes Mr. President.”
End of the very long day 499 of the Obama presidency .

2:34 A.M. Saturday June 12th 2010 White House Rose Garden

The President slowly walked down the pristine path towards one of the White House outbuildings scratching his neck from the overstarched pajamas issued him by the people’s laundry. Sleep wasn’t gonna happen tonight for this President, as he thought to himself “God damn it, why the hell can’t I even fart without the Secret Service smelling it. The look the guys give me these days is driving me up a wall. I don’t trust any of 'em. If I took a cap in the head they’d probably look the other way. Why the hell haven’t I heard from my contact? It’s been weeks now, maybe they were scared off with the last Saturday meet in the limo. The damn press needs to stay away, when I say. When I say I’m headed for my daughters soccer match, I’m headed for her match. They’ve been told. They’ve been told, damn it! They can screw this whole thing up, if we don’t get a better clamp on 'em. “
The young President glanced at his old Chicago day’s slippers on his feet while craving his cigarettes which he threw out 32 hours ago. “Why the hell did I let out that I stopped smoking? Jesus Christ why the fuck did I stop? I just don’t understand it, I get no instructions for a month and I got these fires blazing all over the place. What the hell are they doing, spending all the money I’ve made for them? Nobody can spend that amount of money without somebody noticing. This whole thing is getting out a hand and now I’m rudderless wandering around like that 16 year old girl in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Damn these pj’s. “
As he rounded the turn in the garden he couldn’t help but think that the one thing they didn’t count on was the isolation that comes with this office, the inability to even get a small message out to his contacts has turned into a nightmare. His thoughts rambled on “no sleep and I got that BP chairman meeting tomorrow and I’m gonna look like shit. I hope I don’t blow it, again. Image is everything to those freeloading British slave traders. I can’t wait to lower the boom on 'em when they come for that bailout money that’s not gonna happen, stuffy fuckoffs! The Queen will be giving me a blow job in Trafalgar Square for that money before I’m finished with her sad ass. Don’t fuck’n touch the Queen, go fuck off, here’s another iPod bitch, go away.”
While the now tired pissed off President entered the White House main building he realized it was now 4:50 A.M. and it was time to get ready for his daily security briefing with his soon to be and soon to leave national security heads.
No sooner did the door behind him slam, up pop’s his midget-like White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel blurting out “you look like shit man,” thus the beginning of day 498 of the Obama Presidency.