Veni, Vidi, Vici

A long time ago, Julius Caesar declared, “Veni, vidi, vici.” “I came, I saw, I conquered.” His words echoed throughout two millenia. Until one day…

  • Monica Lewinsky gushed, “Orgasmus, slidici, incontinare.” “He came, I slipped, it dribbled.”
  • Linda Tripp hissed, “Verboso, memorex, serpentus.” “She told, I taped, I blabbed.”
  • Kenneth Starr cheered, “Gerministi! Homonisti! Felonisti!” “It matched! It’s HIS! I GOT him!”
  • And Bill Clinton sobbed, “Perjuratum, erratis, manuro”. “I lied – I mean – I didn’t.”

The Washington Hillbillies

To the Beverly Hillbillies Melody

Well dere once was a story ’bout a man named Bill;
Da poor president couldn’t keep his willie still;
Den one day he was workin’ at his desk,
When in walks Monica and shows da boy her chest…

Boobs, that is. Two of ’em. Bodacious ta ta’s.

Well da next thing ya know, Monica is on her knees,
Mouth open wide and as happy as you please;
Bill sez, “oh yeah now-don’t say a thing,”
“If you do a good job then we’ll have a little fling.”

Blow job, that is. Phalli osculation.

Well, Bill lost his load and it fell upon her dress,
He said, “Clean it up, ‘cuz you really are a mess,
And you’re invited here to dis fine locality,
To have a heapin’ helpin’ of little Willie C.”

Da wiener, that is. Da presidential staff.

So week after week, Monica is on her knees
Keepin’ Willie and his Wiener just as happy as you please,
But then she figured out dat the fling had gone too far,
And she blabbed it all to Linda Tripp who blabbed it all to Starr.

Bad girl, that is. Cigars. Bodacious ta ta’s.

Well it weren’t too long till we all knew the score,
’bout da stuff dat went down behind da oval office door;
Da country’s in da toilet and da people cry, “No More”
But if we oust da cheatin’ jerk, den we gotta live with Gore.

Boob, that is. Great big one. Head stuck up his rear.

So now ya know da story ’bout Bill our president,
Wonderin’ if dis fling’s gonna cost him every cent;
So da moral of da story is to do it quietly,
And stay outta trouble with dat bitch named Hillary.

My Favorite Things

The Bill Clinton Version

Blow jobs and land deals in backwater places,
Big Macs and french fries and girls with big faces,
Lots of nice cleavage that makes willie spring,
These are a few of my favorite things.

Susan McDougal and Gennifer Flowers,
Horny young interns who while ‘way the hours,
Profits from futures that Hillary brings,
These are a few of my favorite things.

When that Jones bites,
When Ken Starr stings,
When I’m feeling sad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don’t feel so bad.

Beating the draft board and getting elected,
Naming to judgeships some hacks I’ve selected,
Conspiracy theories that blame the right wing,
These are a few of my favorite things.

Golfing with Vernon and suborning perjury,
Falling down drunk that required knee surgery
Stars in the White House who come here to sing,
These are a few of my favorite things.

When that Jones bites,
When Ken Starr stings,
When I’m feeling sad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don’t feel so bad.

Meeting with Boris and Helmut and Tony,
States of the Union with lots of baloney,
Winning debates and the joy of my flings,
These are a few of my favorite things.

When that Jones bites,
When Ken Starr stings,
When I’m feeling sad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don’t feel so bad.

Republican Euphemisms for Impeaching the President

  • Bad Bill Hunting
  • Bubba Buh-bye
  • Careericide!
  • Doin’ The Hillbilly Heave
  • Footing the Bill
  • Premature Ejection
  • Proving Once Again That We Are Nothing But A Bunch Of Bitter Mean-Spirited Partisans Who Oppose Any President Who Promotes Policies Which Are Favorable To Blacks, Women, Non-Christians or Homosexuals
  • Taking Bill out Behind the Woodshed
  • Termus Interruptus
  • The Constitutional Gong Show
  • Vast Conspiracy Project, Page #349832-J
  • Coup Process Under the Law
  • Keeping MSNBC in Business
  • L’Etat, C’est Nous, Dickhead
  • Lancing a Boil
  • Passing a Bill
  • Pinning the Tale on the Donkey
  • Politician Assisted Suicide
  • Removing the Stinger
  • Taking the Rod to the Staff
  • The Affair to Remember
  • The Sour Grapes Slam
  • Throwing Out the Bubba With the Bathwater
  • Stain Removal
  • Burning a Bridge to the 21st Century
  • Late Term Abortion
  • POTUS Interruptus
  • Pre-losing the 2000 Elections, For Your Voting Convenience
  • Election ’96 — The Recount
  • Doing What the American People Would Want if They All Weren’t So Damn Stupid
  • Letting Al Drive the Bus
  • Popping the First Zit
  • Taking a Little Off the Top
  • Cutting the Big Cheese

Holiday Changes

Have you heard? Early indications are there will be two less holidays in Washington, D.C. next year. Neither Halloween nor Thanksgiving will be observed as the witch is moving to New York and taking the turkey with her.

Dear Mr. Hinkley

Mr. John Hinkley
St. Elizabeth’s Hospital
Washington D.C.

Dear John,

Hillary and I wanted to drop you a short note to tell you how pleased we are with the great strides you are making in your recovery. In our Country’s new spirit of understanding and forgiveness we want you to know there is a bilateral consensus of compassion and forgiveness abroad throughout the land.

Hillary and I want you to know that no grudge is born against you for shooting President Reagan. We, above all are aware of how the mental stress and pain could have driven you to such an act of desperation.

Hillary and I are confident that you will soon make a complete recovery and return to your family to join the world again as a healthy and productive young man.

Best wishes,
Bill Clinton

P.S. Ken Starr is screwing Jodie Foster.

Goodbye Bubba’s Jeans

A tribute to William Jefferson Clinton to be sung to the tune of “Candle in the Wind”


Goodbye Bubba’s Jeans
Though you always grew in your pants
You had the grace to hold yourself,
Till a woman graced the room.
You called out through the country,
While you whispered to those babes in pain,
You can take me to heaven
And then deny it all the same!

And it seems to me you spent your terms
Keeping Bimbos on the run:
Always knowing where to turn to
When you wanted some.
And your footsteps will always fall where,
Women like guys named Bill
Your legacy will never last
But your libido always will.

Goodbye Bubba’s jeans
The nation will miss your style
We’ll miss that pouting lip
That trembled when you felt our pain.
And even though we’ll try
The truth that you are really gone
Will bring us all to tears;
When your wife is no longer running things.

And it seems to me you spent your terms
Keeping Bimbos on the run:
Always knowing where to turn to
When you wanted some.
And your footsteps will always fall where,
Women like guys named Bill
Your legacy will never last
But your libido always will.

Goodbye Bubba’s jeans,
You wanted to be just like JFK
And now you’ve done it,
Making Monica your Marilyn Monroe.
We hope that it was worth it,
Dragging the country through the mud,
So you could satisfy that urge,
The one that’s run you out of town.

And it seems to me you spent your terms
Keeping Bimbos on the run:
Always knowing where to turn to
When you wanted some.
And your footsteps will always fall where,
Women like guys named Bill
Your legacy will never last
But your libido always will.

Political Kittens

Al Gore is out jogging one morning, notices a little boy on the corner with a box.

Curious, he runs over to the child and says, “What’s in the box, kid?” The little boy says, “Kittens, they’re brand new kittens.”

Al Gore laughs and says, “What kind of kittens are they?”

“Democrats,” the child says.

“Oh, that’s cute,” Al Gore says and he runs off.

A couple of days later, Al Gore is running with his buddy Bill Clinton and he spies the same boy with his box just ahead. Al says to Bill, “You gotta check this out,” and they both jog over to the boy with the box.

Al says, “Look in the box Bill, isn’t that cute? Look at those little kittens. Hey, kid, tell my friend Bill what kind of kittens they are.”

The boy replies, “They’re Republicans.”

“Whoa!” Al says, “I came by here the other day and you said they were Democrats. What’s up?”

“Well,” the kid says, “Their eyes are open now.”

Closing Arguments

From the law offices of Johnnie Cochran, Esquire, here are the top ten proposed closing arguments in the matter of the United States v. William J. Clinton:

 10. If the dress ain’t a mess, he won’t need to confess.

  9. The economy’s great, let the White Boy skate.

  8. If the Bitch didn’t spit, you must acquit.

  7. If she is not spread eagle, then it is not illegal.

  6. Lewinsky’s a whore, and Bill’s better than Gore.

  5. So he lied to the masses, he was just saving some asses.

  4. He cheats on his wife, but it’s his personal life.

  3. He can’t tell the truth till he sees Ken Starr’s proof.

  2. Bill isn’t sleazy, Lewinsky’s just easy.

  1.If the sex is just oral, it’s not really immoral.

Bill Clinton’s Testimony According to Dr. Seuss

I did not do it in a car
I did not do it in a bar
I did not do it in the dark
I did not do it in the park
I did not do it on a date
I did not ever fornicate
I did not do it at a dance
I did not do it in her pants
I did not get beyond first base
I did not do it in her face
I never did it in a bed
If you think that, you’ve been misled
I did not do it with a groan
I did not do it on the phone
I did not cause her dress to stain
I never boinked Suddam Hussein
I did not do it with a whip
I never fondled Linda Tripp
I never acted really silly
With volunteers like Kathleen Willey
There was one time, with Margaret Thatcher
I chased her ’round, but could not catch her
No kinky stuff, not on your life
I wouldn’t even with my wife
And Gennifer Flowers’ tale of woes
Was paid for by my right-wing foes
And Paula Jones, and those state troopers
Are just a bunch of party poopers
I did not ask my friends to lie
I did not hang them out to dry
I did not do it last November
But if I did, I don’t remember
I did not do it in the hall
I could have, but I don’t recall
I never did it in my study
I never did it with my dog, Buddy
I never did it to Sox, the cat
I might have-once-with Arafat
I never did it in a hurry
I never groped Ms Betty Currie
There was no sex at Arlington
There was no sex on Air Force One
I might have copped a little feel
And then endeavored to conceal
But never did these things so lewd
At least, not ever in the nude
These things to which I have confessed
They do not count, if we stayed dressed
It never happened with cigar
I never dated Mrs. Starr
I did not know this little sin
Would be retold on CNN
I broke some rules my mama taught me
I tried to hide, but now you’ve caught me
But I implore, I do beseech
Do not condemn, do not impeach
I might have got a little tail
But never, never did inhale