Baba Wawa and Me

It has been like this for a while now.  I’m watching something on TV or I’m reading a magazine or a book, and before I know it, my mind has taken a side trip to Lord knows where.  My attention span seems to be declining faster than the U.S. dollar lately.

 

Friday night Barbara Walters interviewed      POTUS and FLOTUS, America’s First Couple.  My feelings about the enduring Ms. Walters are already on record here – I can barely stand her simpering interview style.  And, bless their hearts, Barack and Michelle were not saying anything particularly riveting.  The most sensational factoid to come out of the conversation is that the President curses.  Well, damn!  Stop the presses!

My mind had taken a brief hike when I gradually became conscious of Barbara’s lisp addressing itself toward me.

“Madame President, after the shellacking you took in the mid-term elections on November 2, how are you feeling about being so unpopular?”

“Barbara, puh-leeze.  That’s the kind of question you just love to throw out there to trip me up.  Do you really think I’m that stupid?  Being popular might be important to you and your girls on The View, but I have a few what you might call major issues on my plate.  I don’t give a flying fuck about your polls.”

God that felt good.  I have wanted to tell this old hag off since the first time I appeared on that ridiculous bitch-fest she calls a TV show.

“Well…ahem…actually, my next question was going to ask if you curse, Madame President.  Is that something you do on a regular basis?”

“Hell, yeah.  If you had to deal with that cretin Boehner, try to keep Vice President Motor Mouth from swallowing his foot, and listen to David Axelrod drone on and on and on, you’d swear, too.”

Not to mention having to sit here and try to smile while you ask one asinine question after another.  You’d better not ask me what kind of tree I think I am, you silly sycophant!  Yeah, I learned that word at Hah-vahd.  So damn what?

“Ha, ha, ha.  Yes, I imagine I would.  Let me turn to you Mr. Madame President.  Your wife has been taking a great deal of heat recently.  Some people are saying she will be a one-term president.  How does that make you feel?”

“Truthfully?  I hope they’re right.  I had no idea how brutal these assholes over at Fox News were going to be to her.  Even you let that pompous ass Bill O’Reilly come on your show and accuse her of everything short of sleeping with Reverend Jeremiah Wright.  And that pencil-dick Glenn Beck had better hope he doesn’t wander down the wrong dark alley in Chicago one night after we get out of this hell hole.  Nobody calls my wife a Kenyan Muslim and gets away with it except me.   I can’t wait to get out of this drafty old mausoleum, either.”

“Oookay.   Madame President, he really loves you, doesn’t he?”

“Well, I suppose he does.  Frankly we haven’t really discussed it since I announced I was running in 2006.  He was dead set against it – said he didn’t think he could play the subordinate role in public.  He fancies himself the king of the castle, you know.  The kids and I play along to keep the peace, but…  Anyway, here we are. “

Suddenly I am snatched back to reality just in time to see Barbara Walters shaking paws with Bo the Portuguese Water Dog.  Barack and Michelle are holding hands and smiling broadly as Bo rolls over on his back.  I glance down at my dog, Coqui the Bichon Frise.  Now I know I’m dreaming.  There is no way that bitch would ever play the submissive.

ABC News photo