To: The President
From: Andrew H. Card Jr., Chief of Staff
Re: Thanksgiving on the Potomac
cc: Karl, Karen
Excellent pardoning of the Presidential turkey on Monday. What a show of chopping-block compassion. Thanks to you, "Liberty" is now off to roam free at a Virginia petting zoo. (Karen: Pls. find out if anyone pets turkeys. If not, drag its feathered ass back to the W.H. kitchen, pronto.) In any case, with the enemy fleeing faster than Robert Downey Jr. down the 405, and the noose around Osama getting tighter than J.Lo's jeans, let us take a moment during this bittersweet holiday season to give thanks for:
THE "OUCHY-BOO-BOO" TALIBAN: Gee, maybe they could have held Kabul if they hadn't chipped a nail. Turns out our enemies aren't exactly the sand-storming, hump-busting, camel-cruising cowboys they were trumped up to be. Their commanders switch sides more often than Anne Heche, and their "army" of bearded nancy-boys continue to set world records for the 100-, 200- and 400-yard retreats. In fact, these platoon buffoons make Iraq's Republican Guard look like "Stone Cold" Steve Austin hopped up on a steroid souffli. So long, losers.
FDR'S MILITARY TRIBUNAL PRECEDENT: "Hot Wheels" got it right back in '42 when he hauled those Nazi saboteurs into an all-brass, all-balls courtroom -- you know, the one that chucked due process in favor of a good old star-spangled spanking. Same applies here with al-Qaida, no matter what those limp-wrist liberals say. With Wiretap Johnny bugging everything but my granny's rotary phone to collect evidence, and "Down, Boy" Wolfowitz gunning for a trial that would make O.J.'s seem like a day in traffic court, we're looking down the line at one sweet exercise in American justice. The only thing missing from this jurisprudential wet dream is a beet-faced Nicholson, nose to nose with Osama, spittle flying as he screams, "You can't handle the truth!" And who knows, after Karl's successful smooch-a-thon last week in "90210," we may be able to land Jack after all.
DON AT THE PODIUM: Move over, Dirty Harry -- we've got Dirty Rummy. If I knew our esteemed Secretary of Bunker Busters would be so galvanizing in front of the press corps -- lock-jawed and squinty-eyed, going through reporters faster than Ted Kennedy goes through a bag of Doritos -- I would have had him on a bus to Tallahassee a year ago this week. I mean, can he handle those briefing room gnats, or what? The other day I even heard Blitzer telling his cameraman he was too scared to ask for the key to the West Wing crapper. That's what I call handling the media.
ASHLEIGH BANFIELD: Now, here's some media I'd like to handle. The hair, the glasses -- hell, the whole damn package. I don't know about you, but I for one welcome this new age of the femme fatale war correspondent -- a bespectacled babe with facts at her fingertips and a naughty-girl glint in her eye. Ashleigh beckons me through the screen with a "come hither" look. Christiane Amanpour, on the other hand, tells me to get out of her face. I say once this mess ends overseas, we personally invite A.B. to join the W.H. beat. Helen Thomas, yer outta here!
GIULIANI, THE FINAL DAYS: Not that the guy doesn't deserve credit for his heroics, but yours truly is getting a bit tired of seeing Hizzoner's face on every rag from Newsweek to Cigar Aficionado to Combover Monthly. But the real advantage to the end of Mayor G's reign: no more dough-re-mi dilemma. As you know, we're running out of excuses for playing hide-the-checkbook with the Big Apple bailout, especially when the stiffee is Rudy St. Mahatma Fiorello H. Winfrey Lincoln the Divine. But a rookie like Bloomberg? Fuhgeddaboudit -- we can jerk that guy around like the Bullwinkle balloon at the Macy's parade. Besides, if New York wants the cash that bad, Mega-Moolah Mike could probably pick up the entire tab with his friggin' ATM card.
AIRPORT SECURITY: Finally, a bill we can live with, thanks in no small part to your fancy footwork on both sides of the aisle. (Man, you play the Capitol gang better than Strom plays dead.) But, hey, the fight was worth it, right? At long last, Americans will enjoy the same level of intelligence, expertise and customer courtesy from their airport security personnel that they've always gotten from the Postal Service. On second thought, maybe we should hold off on this thank you till next year.
CLINTON UNDERGROUND: Question: Where'd he go? Answer: Who cares? All I know is that the last time I saw Bill Clinton pull an Invisible Man routine like this was when he was playing peek-a-boo from inside a certain intern's plus-size panties. Silence is golden.
PITCHES, BITCHES AND WITCHES: Nothing like a sudden onslaught of entertainment blockbusters -- a great World Series, the new season of "Sex and the City," the Harry Potter flick -- to keep America's attention on show business -- and out of our business. Case in point: Last Thursday morning, the front pages were teeming with all that nasty nitpicking about our economic strategy. Thursday night? "The Victoria's Secret Fashion Show" on ABC. By Friday morning, we'd been bumped to the weather section by Tyra Banks' frilled and bounteous bosom. Talk about your stimulus package.