So. I am, without question, convinced that Barack Obama'a mother-in-law, Marian Robinson, has landed the best gig in the history of gigging. What a deal. And I don't mean that in my usual dim-witted and sarcastic manner. Seriously, that is pretty radical and quite cool. It is said she is coming along continue to help raise the Obama girls, as she did on during the long campaign . . . the one that was fought against a well respected Vietnam Vet and an all-knowing block of yellow ice. Nobody likes a know-it-all.
At any rate, Marian Robinson got the good deal. A beautiful house to live in and surrounded by family and high-powered automatic weapons. Imagine at anytime, day or night, you have at your disposal cooks, butlers, servants, gimps, pilots, jesters, juggling clowns, doormen, bakers, chimney sweepers, maids, sweat shop workers, bowlers, baristas, sawyers, cobblers, masons, carpenters, pimps, elevator operators, blacksmiths, juicers, reverends, rabbis, priests, cult leaders, hall monitors, librarians, carpet cleaners, electricians, plumbers, astronauts, pastry chefs, lunch ladies, VCRs, doctors, dentists, herbal healers, photographers, quilters, free loaders, climbers, cement contractors, eye glasses specialists, ticket brokers, tattoo artists, writers, fishermen, hunter & gatherers, ninjas, squash farmers, whittlers, outdoor survival specialists, zoo keepers and someone to tell you if you have any missed calls.
That is a good deal. Think about it, having all of the trimmings of living in the big house that is white with none of the pressure. You're not the kids in school. You're not the first lady. You're not the President. You're not an aide. You're not a worker of any sort. And you're not the gardener. You don't have to hear the news of the day if you don't want to and you get your own bedroom with a stripper pole. You can completely have free reign of the joint and can walk around naked . . . because it is your house. You can do as you please. You can order a pizza any time you want. You can get the nice, soft toilet paper at no cost. You can spill your drink on the floor and not have to hide it by covering it with an end table. You can can liberally use the term "not my problem" and not feel bad about it. You can punch a hole in the wall and not have to cover it with a Baywatch poster. You can sleep out in the pool house. You can "pants" Raum Emanuel in front of the press and get a good, innocent laugh. You can ride your Hoveround up and down the halls run over people who are on the White House tour. You can sleep in any day of the week. You can drink all the boxed wine you want. You can stink up the bathroom all you want. You can make blanket forts. You can take Marine One to bingo night. You can whore around all you want, cuz you're single. You can throw a mean 4th of July Party up at Camp Dave and not invite your in-laws. You can slingshot marbles at HUMMERS from the White House roof. You can wear jorts around the house. You can burn the toast. And you can always use the excuse, "They aren't my kids" when you get lazy on the job.
Not a bad gig.
Love Always,
Tyler
No comments:
Post a Comment