Webjugate

Former President Bill Clinton has been holding secret talks with his wife and wannabe President Hillary and has, the rumor mill informs us, agreed to be her Vice Presidential candidate.

In an exclusive interview, he confided, “Even though I want to help Hillary in every way I can, it wasn’t an easy decision. After all, if you remember, I was the President. But, since I’ll be back in the White House, I decided I would rather have more to keep myself busy than just being America’s First Man.”

So, as 2008 draws nigh and the inevitable blizzard of questions to her on who she hopes to name as her running mate go discreetly unanswered, just remember you heard it here first that the resourceful husband and wife team plan to make another run for the White House.

Given the current state of America’s feelings about the comeuppances of the Republican tenure, there is actually a very high likelihood that the dedicated duo could once again be frolicking in the realms of Presidential empowerment. Only this time we would, of course, have President Hillary Clinton and Vice President Bill Clinton.

While Democrats cheer, Republicans may double over with wails of dread, while they reach out with hopeful hands for the now-flirtatious Rudy or the ever-coy Jeb.

Tom Attea, creator of NewsLaugh.com, has had six shows produced Off-Broadway and has written comedy for TV. Critics have called his writing “”delightfully funny” and “witty” with “good, genuine laughs.”

I veered to the right as I keenly saw an elderly woman in the pouring rain out of the corner of my eye. She was frantically waving her arms signaling me to pull over. Approaching the curb I simultaneously lowered the power windows and asked where she needed to go. “Across the bridge, can you get me there for three dollars? That is all I have,” she mumbled. I was already headed in her direction and was ok with pocketing a few extra bucks, so I unlocked the door and let her enter. The unpleasant aroma released from this granny was immediately invading my cozy warm cab and I was thankful she was only crossing the bridge, or at least I was under the impression she only wanted to cross to the other side. The stench had built up from days without bathing and years of drinking cheap domestic beer. Quickly I re-lowered the power windows for a fresh breath of life saving air. She started rapping some innocent gibberish and I assumed she was a harmless sweet drunk. That is until, somewhere within her rambling she blurted out “I give great head for five bucks.” A tidal wave of inner chuckles was beating down my cheeks begging to escape my lips into wild laughter. I couldn’t believe she had suggested this. She was probably sixty years old, missing multiple teeth and smelled worse than rotting fruit. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I told her I was involved with a very sweet girl whom I adored very much, and had I not been committed, I would have taken her up on the offer. Yeah right, the only chance this blue haired prune stood with me was if she knocked me out with chloroform. She was so impressed with my kindness and devotion to my imaginary girlfriend that she would not stop complimenting me on how much of a pleasant character I was. Then the grandma claimed that I was the nicest young man she ever met in her thirty years of working the streets as a prostitute. Just imagine all the diseases and pregnancies that must plague a thirty-year veteran of the streets. Then once again, she busted out with “I deep throat great for eight dollars.” Wow, from a regular blow job for five bucks to an eight-dollar deep throat, what the hell was she thinking? I would rather let a sharp toothed pit bull lick peanut butter off my dick before I’d touch this gnarly old grizzled hooker. I reassured her I was very much in love with my lady and it just wouldn’t be fair to her for me to take part in the BJ. It was nearly impossible to avoid busting up laughing in her face, so I decided the ride was more than over with. While still holding my breath, I pulled over and suggested she find another customer somewhere else. It did occur to me for a second to let her keep her last three dollars, but that thought really only lasted for about three seconds. I taxed her for her last bits of change and wished her good luck as she hobbled away in the pouring down rain.

About the Author

Hi, I’m Jason Moffatt, the ex cab driver, and current online nutcase. You see, I’m a freaking madman with like 9000 autobiographical stories, so I felt I would share some of them with you.

Peep my blog, you’ll love it http://www.jasonmoffatt.com

Cheers