During a sleepover at Warren Hatch’s Georgetown residence, Republican congressional leaders stayed up really late, watched movies, made popcorn and lamented that they are no longer able to fuck Washington interns in relative obscurity.
“They’ve got us by the balls. Gary, Torricelli, Packwood,” said Trent Lott, R-Miss. “Used to be, when Strom first moved up here there was a cigar in every mouth and tight, young, ascendancy-minded ass on every lap. Within the past couple of years, I think there has been some confusion about the cigar thing.”
“God damn that Bill Clinton,” Lott muttered as he poured a quarter glass of Johnny Walker Blue Label. “He pillaged the booty and skipped town, while we’re left to walk the no-intern-sex-having plank. Yar.”
Sen. Orrin Hatch, R-Ore., said pornography expenses from his office are up 35 percent since having sex with his interns fell out of favor with constituents and news reporters. Or, at least, since people started plastering it all over the news, those goddamn media parasites. After all, both those Kennedy bastards pumped Marilyn Monroe like the fiery pistons in a 1957 Chevy, and nobody seemed to care about it then, Hatch said.
“I don’t feel like it’s even my life anymore,” Hatch said as he waited for the hair dye, which Attorney General John Ashcroft had just applied to his hair, to set.
“I’ve been tiptoeing around this town for two years, and I’m tired of it. When will I again be able to stop driving to New Jersey to buy cheap, blind whores who just think I’m an middle-aged asshole and won’t realize I’m actually a very powerful middle-aged asshole they could make a lot of money off of if they threatened to expose my dalliances?”
“If there was only something we could do that would make people stop caring about our lucrative, nefarious exploits,” said House Majority Leader Dennis Hastert. “Like, if something more important was happening.”
“Do you think it would be possible to screw up baseball, or anything?” pontificated Sen. Jesse Helms, R-N.C., feverishly waving his left hand so the Revlon Supertop Speed Hulberry fingernail polish he’d just applied would dry faster.
Rep. J.C. Watts, R-Okla., was the first to go to sleep, so Lott and Hastert wiped shaving cream all over his chest and put his bra in the freezer.
Watts awoke in a befuddled haze when the rest of the sleepoverers spoke too loudly with “light as a feather, stiff as a boarding” White House senior strategist Karl Rove.
“Just fucking up baseball won’t be enough,” Rove said. “But we’ve got to figure something out. God, remember the Saturdays we used to have? When we’d get a couple of guys together, consume obscene amounts of hallucinogens and make drug-addled young strippers have lesbian sex for our cocaine? It’s just not the same anymore.
“But you guys are still totally my best friends.”
Rich Butterlove has a riddle for you: What has one eye shut and humps like a tiger? ::Rich Butterlove winks::
