You may have attended Hotchkiss, Choate, Kent, Exeter, Taft, Avon Old Farms, or slummed prepped at New Jersey’s Lawrenceville. It doesn’t matter as he sent you packing. Maybe a church youth group, boy scout troop, your fraternity, or Phi Beta Kappa chapter. He didn’t like you. At all. You were an entitled, highly intelligent, good-looking, smartass finding your way. He worked hard for everything, grew up in Youngstown, or some God-forsaken place, had a paper route and bagged groceries. From seven through college. He’s a virgin, not by choice, just is. Always a great target for bullies, and deservedly so.
He is John Bolton. A man who once could not get confirmed by Congress. Chiefly due to being a bitter, sexually frustrated, dick. Now he is National Security Advisor. Advising the President of the United States. Not just that…he is also the last person in the room with the President. Cabinet secretaries, advisors, joint chiefs, will get in their limos and leave 1600 Pennsylvania. His office is just down the hall. Stranger in paradise.
He has bombs now. Plus a whole world of backward nation-states, communists, Islamists, perverts, non-whites in weird ass gowns. It’s springtime for Bolton. The long, teched-out table in the White House basement’s Situation Room has already several drool stains from a guy who hasn’t had a decent ejaculate in like 60 years. Buttons, so many buttons! Maps! Intelligence files at the swipe of a hand! Fleet deployments, unit strengths, air power…so much air power. Get ready strategic air command, you’re about to have more drillings than a coal miner’s kid’s first trip to a big city dentist. He loves the passcodes that change daily to access the situation room. He’ll have suggestions; for example, “Revelation Time,’ “Ayatolyahed So,” and, of course, “Apocalypse Now.”
John Bolton loves the Constitution. So much so he will reinterpret it to fit his whim just like the founders intended. Need cover to attack North Korea? He makes it totally constitutional! When his version of foreign policy contradicts the founders? No problem, it was written in 1789, what do they know? Jesus the Christ counsels him regularly. From Jesus’s lips to the President’s ear…St. John the Intermediary! Finally a National Security Advisor who knows God is on our side. He’ll make a chair available in the Situation Room if Christ wants to drop in for a briefing. He’s educated too. B.A. Yale University, J.D. from the same. While his classmates were out expressing their freedom of speech, getting high, hooking up, Bolton was on a slow burn in the gothic library. Don’t get him started on Bill Clinton in law school. So much tail, and so little class work. Rhodes Scholar, my ass, and he got to be President. Can’t you hear him in his dorm room? “Just wait, you just wait, I’ll bomb them all, right Jesus? Hahahaha!”
No white male needs a woman more than this guy. Some hooker on 14th St. should just take one for the team. We can set up a scholarship fund. Take turns looking after her baby girl while she is in class. Nothing fancy, the University of the District of Columbia will do. See him on Fox? He loves the attention. That’s happy John. See him on CNN? Smoke coming from his ears, and mustache having a breakdown. Not happy John. About that mustache…what the f—k is up with that? There’s nobody close to him, or can stand to be, maybe a banner over Lafayette Park will send a message. By the way the 1880’s called and they’re embarrassed.
The Joint Chiefs of Staff should build a mock Situation Room next to the real one. Shiny screens, blinking buttons, a Bible on the table, and let him run wild. Bombs away! Casualties be damned! This is a guy whose college thesis was “Risk! From Board Game To Foreign Policy.”
Wilson P. Otterbanks III is a humor contributor to NoViewNews. He is the son of the former British Ambassador Proprietary and Extraordinare to Bermuda, and an alcoholic American mother. He has a bad attitude, and has gotten him this far. He lives on boats.
Comments
Post a Comment