China Rhymes with Vagina

My campaign manager has asked me to write a position paper on our China policy.

I mean, my former campaign manager. The McDougal Administration believes in accountability. And accountability means not wasting money on idle policy wonks who can't be trusted to write position papers on their own without punching themselves in the face repeatedly with a brick and falling asleep on a platter of General Tso's Chicken.

Accountability means a lot more than just holding your neighbors responsible for things like invading some God-damned pacifists like Tibet, monkeying with exchange rates and selling millions of tons of cheap plastic trinkets made by prisoners. There's a lot of money in cheap plastic trinkets and prisoners are bored half the time anyway, so why not put the two together and make something of it? Also, those Chinese bastards have a ton of cash sitting around that I'd like to tap, so I'm not going to go off on them and risk not having a crack at that loot. The McDougal administration believes in doing what's best for the American people - and as the chief representative of the American people, It's my job to look out for what's good for the chief. Which is me. Look what sucking up to the Chinese bastards did for Wal*Mart. They sell plastic American flags, made in China, for $1.89. Cost, including ocean freight? About twenty-seven cents. Anybody else would have ordered flags from Chillicothe, Ohio at eighty-seven cents each. Business geniuses! I love 'em.*

But back to my original point - the McDougal administration believes in accountability, which means the Commander-in-Chief shouldn't have to waste his time writing some long, boring policy statement that no one's going to read anyway. As President, I will not be distracted by "policy." As President, it will be my job to make decisions. As President, I will be the chief decisioner in the government. It will be my job to make the decisions and the faceless policy wonks can then redefine the terms and facts to support those decisions.

The McDougal administration also believes in looking at the big picture and the importance of expertise. We will seek out the experts in whatever area we're concerned about and delegate the problems to those experts. In the case of China, everyone's all upset because the Chinese invaded Tibet and have been menacing Taiwan. That's too much information. If we let ourselves get sucked into too many problems, we'll never get out. Thus... and here's an executive decision... we will combine the Tibet issue and the Taiwan issue into one - I'm going to call it "Tai-Bet" and then bring in the best experts to deal with that. In the case of Tai-Bet, there's clearly one man who is the greatest living authority. Of course, I'm talking about Billy Blanks. Billy Blanks invented Tai-Bet and has studied it extensively. I'm going to make Billy Blanks the McDougal administration's ambassador to China; please consult with him if you have any further questions about the McDougal administration's China policy.


Thank you for your support.


MCDOUGAL

*Wal*Mart people: I'm going to be in a position to do a lot for you guys, if you catch my drift... Confucius say "Hand which scratch my back have other hand in pocket..." Capiche? Give me a call.

McDougal's McCousin & The Ladies Auxiliary

At 11:00 a.m. Thursday we were en route to a hastily arranged campaign event at Mount Rushmore, when McDougal got a call from his cousin Dougal Maguire - a second generation Mic recently relocated to some Southern US shithole where blue laws and pre-suffrage voting requirements remain steadfastly intact.

Dougal's cousin is a former IRA soldier who escaped imprisonment and likely death by firing squad by stowing away on a Royal Navy frigate bound for the West Indies. A stolen identity, stack of fake citizenship documents and a rented Mooney flying into Miami at 300 feet above sea level later, McDougal's cousin's a thriving Southern gentleman who now sips mint juleps with the governor beneath a proudly flapping Confederate battle flag on the statehouse grounds.

Seems we're "half way to St. Patrick's Day," according to McDougal's cousin and we must honor the mark by visiting his strip mall pub two doors down from the Wal-Mart in this socially retarded backwater town.

In case you misread anything I said above - I hate the South ... well with the exception of Oxford, Mississippi, where through the help of an airborne rohypnol dispenser and a gas mask I was able to bed the entire Ole Miss women's lacrosse team in 1997.

But we weren't going to Oxford, and I've long since given up on date rape.

The only reason to venture south of Washington, D.C., is if you're going down there to kill someone, which (though likely the ultimate outcome) wasn't why we were going. McDougal wanted to drink Irish Car Bombs and "grip hands with the regular folk ... Goddamnit, I wanna shake some hands!"

So, like 38 hours later, the McDougal campaign bus rolls into Cannonball Run, Tennessee, or whereve the hell we were and McDougal's convinced himself that he's there to fight a religious war against Wal-Mart. (A mission he promptly forgot as soon as he put eyes on his cousin Dougal, thank God ... I think.)

Turns out our campaign manager had tried to make the best of the change in plans (as he's wont to do) and instead of holding a campaign stop in front of a historic national monument, we were going to sit down with a crash of dirt farmers high on crank and muscodine wine and ask them to support McDougal's independent Presidential bid with their votes and their wallets.

The event was, of course, an absolute disaster. Those rednecks didn't want to hear McDougal's rambling leftist views on the WTO or his (what must have seemed to them) idealistically opposite plan to abolish minimum wage laws and Federal taxes. They didn't want to hear about his plan to legalize drugs and remove prescription requirements for any and all medications.

I was not aware that McDougal was campaigning on banning prescription requirements, but must admit his ideas seemed logically sound at the time. "Jesus Christ, we're a free market economy. People don't need to go sit in a doctor's office for 45 minutes just to get a bunch of muscle relaxers and LSD (McDougal is under the impression that doctors also prescribe hallucinogens. I've tried repeatedly to explain to him that just because HIS doctor prescribes them doesn't make that the norm.). For Christ's sake, the drug companies tell you about the diarrhea and whatever else you need to know right there on the commercial."

He then went on his canned anti-Wal-Mart/anti-Chinese rant. Well, he might has well gone down there and told those redneck crackers that Jesus was a homo who smoked crack cocaine and bedded Roman hookers (which he later actually did say) than to attack the Wal-Mart, which has become a cornerstone for these people. One stop shopping there. They can get their beats and collard greens and anti-freeze all in one place. They've even got rides for the kids. And thanks to their partnerships with the Chinese government, they can sell inferior pressed board dining room suites for $30 so these ignorant mucks can pimp their double wides in the latest in New Millennium White Trash Decor. And McDougal's gonna go down there and bad mouth this!?

We're lucky we weren't lynched.

Of course, no one's gonna come after McDougal unless their ridiculously armed and even more ridiculously drunk. Turns out, however, that down there, clearly 80% of the populace meets both of these criteria.

By midnight, we were in a full fledged gunfight with these drunken buffoons, when McDougal gets an idea that he's gonna try to salvage the evening by hosting an auction. He stands up in the middle of the whole thing and announces he's going to auction off a dozen of his female interns.

He took six bullets in the chest while trying to explain his plan, but you know that kind of shit doesn't phase McDougal. He eventually got the room settled and by about 1 a.m. the auction was in high gear, with a couple of the girls fetching close to a thousand dollars.

Me and my buddy Ray each picked up one for ourselves, and I got to admit, McDougal had come up with a great idea.

I was a little embarrassed to be
caught on camera with my purchase.


Ray, on the other hand, was "proud as punch."

Neil Lynch Cried like a baby when ...

I peed in his mouth.

McDougal ripped off his left foot and beat him half to death with it in front of the Wal-Mart on Chandler Ave. in front of his mother and the Lyle Manpoole (Mr. McDougal's freshman anthropology teacher and the first man he ever had a crush on).

Benson was cancelled.

He was beaten senseless by a gang of 14-year-old bitches from West Side.

Lloyd Benson peed in his mouth.

Robert Guillaume peed in his mouth.

No one peed in his mouth for six months.

He realized he could only be aroused by having a tall black man pee in his mouth.

He saw the R. Kelly video.

Despite repeated fan letters and offers of cash, R. Kelly refused to pee in his mouth.

He received the results of his IQ test.

He fell asleep during the last 15 minutes of the last episode of The View.

Bananarame broke up.

He took a rubber chicken to his prom as a "funny joke" ... because that's what funny, funny Neil Lynch does. The whole evening ultimately turned bad; however, when the rubber chicken refused to put out, and Neil was caught in his high school parking lot by Andy Miller, the prom queen at Central High School. The saddest part was Neil had been out of high school for 12 years at the time and had just been fired from his job as nut mopper at Platinum Plus.

He realized he couldn't engage the McDougal Army because he was outgunned, out witted, and shit out of luck.