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What if. Questions for Dear Leader - that never got asked:


ANDY ROONEY: I've been thinking a lot lately about pretzels. Personally, I don't like salt on my pretzels. I don't understand why the people who make pretzels think that they have to put salt on my pretzels for me. Its a lot harder to get the salt off a pretzel than it is too put the salt on a pretzel. If I wanted salt on my pretzel I'd simply spit on it to make it sticky and then shake a little salt on the thing. Mr. President, you've had a LOT of experience with pretzels. If you were given a pretzel with salt on it, and you didn't want salt on your pretzel, would you bomb a potato chip factory?

JACK NICHOLSON: Prez-i-dent Bush. Lets just suppose that you were to, oh, lets say, find yourself in a sit-u-a-tion. And this sit-u-a-tion involved a chicken salad sandwich, a waitress, and a couple of slices of wheat toast. Are ya following me here Mr. Prez-i-dent? And lets just say that YOU are this waitress, Mr Prezident, and the chicken salad sandwich on wheat toast is YOUR big fancy daily special for certain special - "folks". Ya know what I mean Mr. Prezident? Rich "folks." And lets suppose, plain speakin-like, Mr. Prezident, that I'd like to entertain your basic omlette with a couple of slices of plain old wheat toast on the side. But, in order to get that wheat toast, Mr Prezident, I'll need to order the chicken salad sandwich as well. So, this is the thing Mr Prezident, are ya listening up? I want you to bring me the chicken salad sandwich on wheat toast but I want you to hold the "ownership society" mayonnaise and the greasy "faith based" butter-up and the leafy "21st century" lettuce. And bring me a cup of coffee while your at it too. Do ya understand what I'm trying to say here - Mr Prezident?

BUSH: Hold butter, hold lettuce, hold mayonnaise, and...

NICHOLSON: Yeah, thats it, and now all you have to do is hold the chickenshit tax breaks for the rich, bring me the toast and the eggs and the coffee, give me a check for the chickenshit salad sandwich and you haven't broken any...

BUSH: You want me to hold the chicken, huh?

NICHOLSON: Mr. Prezident... I want you to hold it between your fucking knees!! you stupid son-of-a-@$#!%ing motherfu#!%in&g0$*g@!!"*&!!!!.....

[experiencing technical difficulties please hold for station identification...]

BILL O'REILLY: How ya doin' Mr. President. Hey, whadda ya gonna do if I call up the twins at two am on a Friday morning and invite em to spend a weekend with me in the Caribbean? I'll get em drunk, rip off their panties, and take pictures of both of em in the shower together squeezing luffa sponges and teasing each others erect nipples as I lick hot coconut milk from their firm tawny buttocks. Huh? What are ya gonna do Mr Bush, sue me? Ha ha ha. Go ahead and try!

[experiencing FCC difficulties please hold for your local severe weather forecast update...]

DON IMUS: Mr. President, did you ever buy any overpriced salsa from my idiot brother's Autobody Express catalog, and if not, why not, you fat phoney moron. And how come Russert didn't get to ask you any questions? Shouldn't Russert be allowed to ask a question? What the hell is wrong with you people anyway? God almighty how many times do I have to remind you that Russert gets to ask any question before the rest of you losers get a word in edgewise. Bernie!, you bald headed Nazi, wheres my limo! Where's that stupid moron I hired to scratch my ass and spit shine my Platte River zip boots every ten minutes,... I don't have to put up with this...don't these people know who I am!...

PEGGY NOONAN: Oh, Mr. President, good evening Mr. President. I am so thrilled and honored and grateful and humbled and privleged and intoxicated by this wonderful opportunity to ask you a brief question on this celebrated historic occasion. Oh, Mr. President, [sigh] at this very moment our nation finds itself embroiled in a boiling kettle of doubt and cultural dread. We are teetering upon a precipice Mr. President, and the golden sands of the Tigris swirl higher and higher into the blackening whirlwinds, freedom calls, the cradle of civilization weeps, its tears and hopes fall before your tired yet manly shoed foot Mr. President! Will you please reassure the American people and the world which looks to you for strength and resolve and leadership and prayer that your dreams of a more hopeful world will be carried aloft on the alabaster wings of cooing doves, the gladness of morning sunrays, and the gurgling joyous laughter of fat new born babies, oh Mr President.......!

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Hey, it coulda been worse. Howard Stern could have been asking questions about lesbians.

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