Traitor!

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Icky gave me the bad news. Former New Mexico Governor Bill Richardson will endorse Barack Obama. On the surface it would seem as if Richardson has become a traitor, but I don’t think so.

Bill owes his entire political life to the Clintons. We gave him everything he has. From his lengthy resume to his sense of humor to his way with women, everything Richardson is came from his long-time mentor, William Jefferson Clinton.

To see that Richardson has defected to endorse Barack Obama at a crucial time in my campaign can only mean one thing:

Aliens. Bill Richardson was abducted by aliens.

It all makes sense. He’s lost weight. His hair is a little darker. His accent is somehow different. And he has a beard. That alone makes it difficult to tell the old Bill Richardson from what is obviously a clone. That means that aliens could be poised to take over the government.

It doesn’t matter. They can’t do any worse than George Bush.

It’s no wonder that Florida is like Michigan

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Florida is so much like Michigan that it scares me. One of my staffers said that Michigan sends more retirees to Florida than any other state. I believe it. Both states are extremes. Extreme cold and misery in Michigan. Extreme heat and old in Florida.

Both states have a chance to come back to the 21st century and hold another Democratic primary election and what do they do? Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Neither state wants to hold another primary that could determine the outcome of the Democratic nominee. It’s like they just don’t care.

Well, they didn’t care enough to even count the votes properly in 2000 and look what happened.

An expensive war, thousands of lives lost, billions of dollars wasted, national good will destroyed, and a debt that will never be paid off.

Thanks, Florida. You old people really know how to make things right. The only good thing to come of this is that, sooner or later, all the old people in Michigan will have retired to Florida, so all the lackluster loser Democrats will be confined to a single state that will get washed out to sea in the next hurricane.

Good riddance.

National polls are worthless pieces of garbage

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America is obsessed with rankings, poll numbers, who’s number one and who’s not. We got word tonight about a new Gallup poll which shows me ahead of Barack Obama, 49 to 42-percent.

All I can ask is, ‘How many delegates will that get me?

The answer is, “It depends.” But probably none. The primary election for Democratic presidential candidates is a popularity contest, not a national vote. Al Gore won the national vote in 2000 and lost the electoral count to George. W. Bush. As if we need the “W” to differentiate the various Bush politicians.

A poll has significance if it shows a local or regional trend, and national polls don’t show regional trends. The only value here is to show SuperDelegates that I’m a better candidate than Barack Obama to defeat John McCain in November.

I mentioned that to New York Governor Spitzer a couple of weeks ago. He smirked and looked down his nose at me, and said, “National polls are worthless pieces of garbage. Face it, Hillary. You’re toast.

That pissed me off so I called one of Maggie’s friends in New Orleans and had her put a hex on Spitzer. That’ll teach him to get on my dark side.

The lipstick on Bill’s collar

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If there is one thing a woman knows, it’s her lipstick color. When a wife finds unknown lipstick on her husband’s shirt collar, it raises eyebrows. Mine are raised.

I haven’t put an iron to a shirt in about 25 years or so, and wouldn’t know how to turn on my washer unless Martha Stewart helped me. But I know my way around a shirt collar. This weekend I saw one of Bill’s shirts before it went to the laundry and the collar was smudged with a shade of lipstick that doesn’t belong to me.

I know better than to confront him about such issues. After all, Bill has women crawling all over him, and it’s always been that way. There was a time when I crawled all over him, too, but these days I’m more patient. And tired. And he says I’m too heavy.

Today I decided to make an issue of the lipstick. It was an orange color, lighter than my shades. I left the shirt on the table in the dining room. Bill and Chelsea were due home for lunch in a couple of hours. That gave me time to think about other instances of lipstick smudges I found through the years. That made my blood begin to boil so I knew the day wouldn’t be a good one.

Update - Chelsea came home with Bill and saw the shirt. She apologized for getting her lipstick on her dad’s collar. Chelsea said it would come out with a touch of denatured alcohol and a little dishwashing detergent. I asked her where she learned such household hits.

From dad,” she said, and winked.

Foreign policy is such sweet sorrow

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Today is the big day. Today is the day I prove to the world that I know something about foreign policy. I’ve been practicing my big Iraq speech for weeks and it will be the single greatest speech I have ever given, if not the most memorable speech of American politics.

The only problem is that I have this nagging feeling that nobody really cares about Iraq any more except me, Barack and John McCain. McCain is for the war in Iraq. Barack is against the war in Iraq. And I was for the war in Iraq until I was against it.

Anyway, this speech will set the record straight.

I am really pissed at Sinbad for spilling the beans about our trip to Bosnia when Bill was President. We went there with Sheryl Crow and a bunch of others to entertain troops. I count that as foreign policy experience. If Sinbad wants to run for public office and count his trip to Bosnia as experience, then it’s fine with me. He may be a funny guy but all he did was eat three meals three times a day.

Vote again. I’ll pay for it.

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The first thing I’m going to do when I get sworn in as President is to have the FBI bring me Howard Dean’s head on a platter. Without the rest of his body.

I swear, Howard is cross dressing, closet Republican. No single person has screwed up the Democratic Party more since Michael Dukakis. Michael who? Everybody laughs when I say that.

Is it any wonder that so-called ‘Dr.’ Howard is no longer a doctor in Vermont? I’m sure they have malpractice laws up there which prevent him from maintaining his practice, so the only thing left to do was to go into politics.

Somehow Howard got elected to preside over the national Democratic Party. The first thing that happened was a bunch of states moved up their presidential primary elections to get more national buzz and media campaign money. Then Howard changed the rules to stop the changes. Then Florida and Michigan decided to move their primaries anyway. Then Howard said their votes wouldn’t count.

Then I won the fictitious primary elections they held in Florida and Michigan anyway, even though the votes don’t count toward seating delegates at the convention. If those votes counted, which they don’t, at least today, then I would be ahead of Barack Obama in the delegate count. What a mess. Thank you, Howard Dean.

What can we do? I say we vote again in Florida and Michigan and I’ll pay for the election cost. I need the delegates. Of course, they may end up being the most expensive primary election delegates in history. No, wait. That title belongs to Mitt Romney.

How many Texans does it take to count a vote?

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How many Texans does it take to count a vote? Seriously. How many?

Texas’ strange Frankenelection was held almost two weeks ago and they still haven’t finished counting all the votes. I think I won but I don’t know for sure. They do things differently down in the Lone Star state.

The way I understand it is they held their primary election during the day, and then held a caucus election at night. I didn’t even know about that. It looks like I won the primary election but the results have not been counted for even half the Texas precinct caucuses.

Will Rogers was right. ‘I don’t belong to any organized political party. I’m a Democrat.’

From what I can tell, the Democrats in Texas learned how to count votes by attending a vote counting seminar held by Florida Democrats. It’s a tall tale of chaps and chads. There’s something about states with a heavy population of Hispanics. They can’t count. At least, they can’t count quickly or accurately.

Everyone tells me I won Texas. Probably. Big whoop, cowboys. The delegate count looks to be split right down the middle between me and Barack Obama. This is not how it’s supposed to work.

‘He would not dare!’

Media 1 Comment »

All politicians have ‘operatives’ inside their competitors campaigns. I have a highly placed aide to Barack Obama who called late last night with some disturbing news. She let us know that Barack Obama has a plan to form an independent run for the White House if he fails to get the Democratic nomination.

This is a monumental problem for Democrats. Ralph Nader’s independent run in 2000 siphoned enough Democrat votes from Al Gore in Ohio and Florida that it gave the election to George Bush. If Barack Obama runs as an independent candidate for President there is no way he would win. However, he’ll take enough votes from me, and probably John McCain, that no candidate would win enough states to be elected President, and that throws the whole mess into the House of Representatives.

Is Obama crazy? He wouldn’t dare try an independent run for the White House? He wouldn’t. At least, that’s what we all thought yesterday. Today, I’m not so sure.

The problem is those damned SuperDelegates. Neither Obama nor me will win enough pledged delegates to be elected as the Democratic nominee before the convention, so the SuperDelegates will decide the election. If Obama wins more pledged delegates, wins the popular vote, and wins more states, I could still win the nomination if enough SuperDelegates switch to me.

If that happens, Barack Obama will run as an independent for President. God help us all.

Apologize? Never. Well, maybe.

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Timing is everything. Unfortunately, there’s good timing and bad timing. Geraldine Ferraro played what may well be our last race card the other day, and days later I had to face a bunch of African-American newspaper publishers and ask them for support.

Life is full of little ironies like that.

Well, before I could face what might have turned out to be a bunch of angry black men who buy ink by the barrel, I called Geraldine and told her it would be best for her to step aside. Sure, she was right. But the country just isn’t ready to debate the nuances of truth.

So, in true Clintonian fashion, I apologized. Of course, it wasn’t a real apology for what Geraldine said, because what she said was really true, and it’s hard to apologize for the truth. I proceeded to apologize for offending anyone, which is true. Apologies need to be explicit, and they need to be targeted, and since I was speaking in front of African-American newspaper publishers, I added, and “I apologize and I am embarrassed that our federcal government so mistreated our citizens.” The reference to victims of Hurricane Katrina was Bill’s idea. He said they’ll lap it up. They did.

And just like that they accepted my well crafted apology and all was forgiven. Is it any wonder that newspapers are dinosaurs?

“Go get ‘em, Geraldine!”

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Publicly, I cannot condone what Geraldine Ferraro said, but everyone knows she’s right. Barack Obama would not be where he is today if he was a fat, balding caucasian politician from Chicago.

It was Bill’s idea to play one last race card and getting Ferraro to yank on Obama’s chain was a masterful ploy. The message is the same. Obama is not like the rest of us. Only the messenger changed. After all, who wants to beat up on an old woman? Ferraro’s gotta be in her mid 70s, maybe even 80 by now. She’s got more wrinkles than a 2,000 year old tree has rings.

The icing on the cake is how the Obama camp jumps like an alley cat on a three-legged mouse when people say things like that. Squirm and squeal and screech. It’s almost comical. Even better is my carefully crafted response from Terry McAuliffe:

It is regrettable that any of our supporters on both side - because we’ve both had that experience - say things that kind of veer off into the personal. We ought to keep this on the issues. There are differences between us. There are differences between our approaches on healthcare, on energy, on our experience, on our results that we’ve produced for people. That’s what this campaign should be about.”

I love playing hardball. No rejection of Ferraro’s comment. No repudiation. No nothing. Roll ‘em and let ‘em ride. Terry also threw in a line where I’m supposed to remind everyone that Obama is different than the rest of us in some sort of colorful, magical, mystical Barney the Dinosaur kind of way.

I’ll save that one.

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Diary excerpts published and edited by Ron McElfresh, Honolulu, HI USA.
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