Soothing Barack
June 30, 2013
“Mr. President, you’ve been quite tense.”
“Since when?”
“Last five years or so.”
“Be thankful you bear not my burden, Joe.”
“I am, but I’ll have to unless you mellow out.”
“I work out, play golf, spend quality time with the wife. What else can I do?”
Joe smiled and presented a perfectly rolled cigarette. “Kona Gold,” he said, “compliments of your prep school.”
He reached but stopped centimeters short and said, “I can’t. Promised I’d stop smoking cigarettes.”
“This doesn’t count, does it?”
“I’m afraid it does, according to Michelle.”
Grim Joe walked out Oval Office. Two days later he returned, carrying big paper grocery bag taped shut.
“Here you are, Mr. President.”
He received bag, looking suspiciously at Joe, opened it, and pulled out bong eighteen inchers high and three across.
“That’s no cigarette, Sir.”
“I suppose not, but don’t have anything to put in it.”
“Here you are, an ounce of same stuff.”
What happened to the joint?”
“Smoked it last night. Made the wife horny as hell.”
“Good work,” he said, and picked up phone. “Cancel all my appointments for two days and send in a dozen pepperoni pizzas.”