Dear Family and Friends,
Dang, it's hard to believe the holidays are here again and another year is at an end. Laura and I hope this letter finds you and yours unforeclosed upon, personally untouched by the suffering and loss of war and up to your eyeballs in oil profits. Of course, if you aren't, you shouldn't be on our Christmas card list and reading this, ha-ha.
As for "us truly," the Bush family, this has been a trying year, with very few ups and more than our share of disappointing downs. But tough as it's been sometimes, rest assured we always have our faith -- in God, in spineless Democrats, in the fearfulness of the American people, in a lazy press -- to guide us through adversity and, when necessary, around the Constitution.
As usual, Laura and I have been traveling like crazy this year. And though I guess to some people that sounds all exciting, etc., believe me it's anything but. I mean, who really wants to go to places like Uruguay (when Air Force One doesn't offer a direct flight, you know you're in trouble) and Latvia (the whole country smells like a wet dog) or go fly over a bunch of moony-eyed disaster victims who're only glad to see you until you tell 'em they're not getting a free trailer. And poor Laura! In October, she went all the way to the Middle East (or, as she calls it, "Hell Lite") to talk about breast cancer only to find out that women over there who allow mammograms of their bare breasts to be seen by a male radiologist are stoned in the village square.
That wasn't the only bump in the road for my sweetie, either. Back in the spring, Laura's doctors told us her face wasn't responding to treatment, meaning it's gonna stay frozen in that terrible, terrible mirthless grin I've come to despise for the rest of her natural born days.
It's so sad (not that you'd know it from looking at her) and it's just not fair -- especially (since I'm on the face's outside and have to see it all the time) to me.
I had my own health scare this year, too. In July, I had five polyps (non- cancerous, thank God, and I did) removed from my colon. The docs down at Bethesda Naval Hospital did a great job, no doubt about it, but I gotta say I was disappointed when they told me there was nothing they could do about the scarring I had "down there" from when I pulled the surge strategy out of my ass.
On a brighter note, our daughter, Jenna, had her first book published this year. (Imagine our surprise that she could write!) It's called Ana's Story: A Journey of Hope, and I promised her I'd read it just as soon as I start giving a crap about poor foreign women of color with AIDS, ha-ha. Jenna also got engaged this summer to a boy named Henry Hagar (nope, no relation to Hagar the Horrible, I checked). They're very cute together and, according to the NSA wiretap I authorized, they seem to share a lot of interests, including happy hours, sake bombs and somebody named Dirty Sanchez.
As for Jenna's twin sister Barbara, well, I'm afraid she's still finding her way. Back in September she wanted me to appoint her Chief Justice of the Supreme Court until she found out that didn't mean she was Judge Judy's boss and changed her mind. Next, she was going to sell waterboarding interrogation videos to torture fetishists on eBay, but then someone "accidentally" shredded the master tapes. Of course, she blames all her problems on me. Which probably explains why, in the latest Zogby poll, my approval rating among presidential daughters is down to 50 percent.
Another low point came in August when Uncle Karl moved out of the House. Boy-oh-boy, what a sad day that was. That man has been such a huge help to me, what with his mastery of the Dark Arts (for seven years I've been trying to figure out how he got the black vote to disappear in Florida) and his army of flying monkeys. I'm not exactly sure where old Turd Blossom is headed next but, before he left, he told me if I ever needed him again I should "just follow the trail of dead puppies."
But enough about depressing old 2007 and its Iraq, immigration, Alberto Gonzalez, fired U.S. attorneys, $9 trillion dollar national debt, illegal domestic surveillance, falling dollar, mortgage crisis, Taliban resurgence in Afghanistan, Scooter Libby, lack of progress in the Middle East peace talks, health care crisis and melting ice cap worries. Because things are looking up for 2008!
For instance, as you probably know, we're gonna be bombing Iran. That'll be fun. Especially because Dick Cheney's promised to tell me 15 minutes before he orders it so I can go watch it on the giant flat screen in the War Room.
My other big news for '08 is that I'll be retiring in November. And I'll admit, I'm pretty psyched about it. What makes it even better, though, is knowing that 68 percent of Americans are even more anxious for me to start enjoying my retirement than I am. I guess they're not so dumb after all.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,
President George "Mr. President" Bush
CONTACT BOB WOODIWISS: firstname.lastname@example.org. His column appears here the last issue of each month. His book, Keys to Uncomfortable Living, a collection of humorous and satirical essays, is in bookstores now.