Politics: Bo the Horndog’s Summer of Love

WHEN:  Last weekend
WHERE:  Panama City Beach, Fla.

The First Family, here to boost the local tourism industry in the aftermath of the Gulf oil spill, relaxes on the beach, or tries to anyway…

SASHA OBAMA:  (emerging from the water) Yuuuuuuck!  Why is the water still brown, Daddy?

THE PRESIDENT:  Yeah, Gibbs, why is it still brown?  I thought it had cleared up.

PRESS SECRETARY ROBERT GIBBS:  That, sir, that’s tea.  Some Tea Party protesters apparently chartered a boat a mile up the coast, and they’re dumping tea to protest your visit.

THE FIRST LADY:  How do you know it’s the Tea Party?

GIBBS:  Well, ma’am, they’re flying a burgee with Marco Rubio’s face on it.  That and the voice that’s directing them over the boat’s loud speaker sounds suspiciously like Sarah Palin’s.

PRESIDENT:  In that case, is it within my powers to order the Coast Guard to sink it?

GIBBS:  Well, sir, I’d have to check the War Powers Act, but I seriously doubt it.

PRESIDENT:  Blast ‘em out of the water?  Fire a warning shot off their bow?

GIBBS:  That wouldn’t look good.  The press would have a field day.  Your poll numbers are already low, plus we shouldn’t make them into victims – the public might begin to feel sorry for them.

PRESIDENT:  Gibbs, you’re right.

WHEN:  Last weekend

WHERE:  Outside a cabin at Camp Wicosuta, Malia [Secret Service code name:  Radiance] Obama’s summer camp in New Hampshire

SECRET SERVICE AGENT 1:  (swatting away a mosquito) Anything interesting happen last night after Radiance and the other kids went to bed?

SECRET SERVICE AGENT 2:  Yeah.  They got me.

AGENT 1:  Oh?  How?

AGENT 2:  The-ol-bucket-of-water-above-the-door prank.

AGENT 1:  (laughing)

AGENT 2:  I don’t see what’s so funny.  It wasn’t water in the bucket.  It was maple syrup.  Got it all over me.

AGENT 1:  Did you hear how they got Riley last week?

AGENT 2:  No.  How?

AGENT 1:  Trust me, you don’t want to know.

AGENT 2:  I’ll be glad when we get back to D.C.  The agency doesn’t pay me enough to endure this torture.  At least when I was on the Bush twins’ detail, the most we ever had to do was pull them out of the bars when they’d gotten too sloshed.  Who knew guarding a little 12-year-old girl was going to be this rough?

AGENT 1:  You got that right.

WHEN:  One night last week

WHERE:  The White House

BO, THE OBAMA FAMILY DOG:  (on the phone) Get me Senator Schumer’s residence.

WHITE HOUSE OPERATOR:  Senator Schumer’s residence on the line.

GINGER THE SCHNAUZER :  Hello?

BO:  Ginge!  Hey, sexy thing, whatcha doin’ tonight?

GINGER:  Oh, just lying around waiting for the master and his wife to return from their evening out.

BO:  How’d you like to come over and spend the night?

GINGER:  Oh, can I?!  Cool!  But are they home?

BO:  Oh, them?  No, they’re all out of the house for a change.  Even the mother-in-law.  And I’ve got the digs all to myself – all 132 rooms, baby!  Come on over and let’s get this party started!

GINGER:  Can I bring over a friend?  She’s Janet Napolitano’s Spaniel.  She needs some company right now.  Got a big crush on Barney Frank’s dog, but he won’t call her and ask her out.

BO:  Barney Frank?  Bitch, his dog’s never gonna go for her.  Trust me, he’s not her type.

GINGER:  What do you mean, “not her type”?

BO:  He’s not her type.  On account he’s gay.

GINGER:  I know the congressman’s gay.

BO:  I’m not talking about the congressman, Ginge.  I’m talking about his dog.  His dog’s gay, too.

GINGER:  Gay?

BO:  As gay as a chihuahua in a tutu.

GINGER:  But he’s soooo damn good-looking and he always keeps his coat so well groomed.

BO:  Exactly.  Didn’t you pick up on those clues?  A metrosexual mutt, through and through.

GINGER:  (sigh) Why are the best ones always gay?

BO:  Yeah, bring her.  Get here at 10, use the secret entrance near the gate like we used before, and make sure no reporters see you, okay?

GINGER:  Okay.

BO:  You know how everyone wants to sleep in the Lincoln Bedroom?  Well, I’ll show you what’s under the Lincoln bed.

GINGER:  I bet you say that to all your bitches.

BO:  Me?  Girl, I’m just a one-bitch dog.

GINGER:  Sure, sweet stuff.  That’s what they all say.

BO:  Dawg, you coming or what?

GINGER:  Hot stuff, I’m there!  (hangs up)

WHITE HOUSE OPERATOR:  I have a call from the Secretary of Defense’s residence.

BO:  Put it through.

CUDDLES THE POODLE:  Bo?

BO:  Cuddles!  Hey, babe!  What’s cooking?

CUDDLES:  I’m so lonely tonight, all by myself.  Care to share a Milkbone?

BO:  Ah, gee, girl, I’m… well, I’d really love to, but… I’m having a flea dip tonight, so I’ve gotta pass.  Maybe some other time, okay?

CUDDLES:  Oh, okay.  But you owe me.

BO:  I know.

CUDDLES:  Maybe we can hang out in the pool again, like last time?

BO:  I don’t know about that, sugar.  After the last time, they noticed dog hairs that weren’t mine.  We nearly got found out.

CUDDLES:  Well, if they don’t ask…

BO:  We won’t tell!  (laughing).

About Charles Branham-Bailey

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