I had the day off, so I thought I'd pay a visit to Camp Larry and sign some autographs. Unfortunately, Mom had moved the vigil into a neighboring redneck bar. For reasons I won't go into, I am not welcome inside that particular establishment until I pay for the damages and issue a formal apology to Mr. Daniels and his band. So I decided instead to spend the remainder of the day catching up on some reading.
The first book, Help Mom! There Are Liberals Under My Bed!, is a touching reminder of how loving progressives protect and nurture us even as we sleep comfortably in our beds. In this colorfully illustrated story, two young conservative snots decide to pick lemons from their family lemon tree and sell lemonade, completely indifferent to the thousands of migrant farm workers who will lose their jobs because of their greedy capitalist venture. A colorful assortment of liberal characters ooze out of the woodwork to put these corporatist urchins back on the straight and narrow. Mayor Leach arrives to collect a lemonade tax so homeless orphans can have free dustpans. The incredibly gorgeous Senator Clankton chastises the brats for putting too much sugar in their toxic right-wing brew, and instructs them to include free broccoli with every cup. When one selfless progressive demands the boys remove a divisive portrait of Jesus Christ from their stand and replace it with an inoffensive drawing of a big toe, the author almost crosses over into the dishonorable realm of satire; the last refuge of idiots. But the book redeems itself in the end when the two chickenhawks are drafted to fight in Bush's illegal and immoral war on terror. Okay, that's not really how it ends. But it would be cool if it did.
From Katherine Willey to Juanita Broderick, Their Lives: The Women Targeted by the Clinton Machine explores the many loves of a man who just had too much love to give. Unlike Bush, who won't even take time out from his drunken holiday to speak to a poor, grieving mother, President Clinton wouldn't hesitate to meet with the little people and feel their pain - and, if time permitted, other parts of their anatomy as well. That's because deep down within his throbbing loins he had a burning desire to help those in need - especially damsels in distress who came looking for a friend and went away with so much more. Trailer trash whoreslut Paula Jones turned to a young Arkansas governor for a new job, and got a glimpse of the future president that only a few hundred other women can claim to have seen. Katherine Willey came to Clinton for a shoulder to cry on...but she got the BONUS PLAN, BABY!!! OHHHH!!! Sure, Clinton got a little boisterous sometimes, but at least he never murdered anyone. No one who didn't have it coming, anyway.
Although he was the most powerful man in the free world, Bill Clinton would drop everything, including his pants, to help a friend. Their Lives chronicles the ordinary lives of the women who were proud to call Bill Clinton a "friend", and what's left of their lives now.
I recommend both these fine books as great additions to your reading list. And I'm not just saying that because the publisher sent me free advance copies.