I’m sure you’ve been aware of the Washington dustup over Nancy Pelosi’s use of a government plane to take her, her staff and relatives back and forth between Washington D.C. and California. The issue caused much spinning and teeth gnashing on both sides of the aisle, which even the White House characterized as “silly”.

Since 9/11 the Speaker of the House, for security reasons, has been provided with use of a government plane to fly back and forth to his district. The reason for this is because the House Speaker is third in line for the Presidency (heaven forbid). As such, the issue has become whether the type of aircraft used by former Speaker Dennis Hastert (whose Congressional District was in Illinois) could make the trip between the coasts without stopping to refuel.

One of the questions that was grist for the media was whether it was Speaker Pelosi or the Congressional Sgt.-at-Arms who actually requested the plane.

PRS Operatives have managed to secure a copy of the original letter drafted by Speaker Pelosi to the Pentagon requesting the use of a government plane. Here it is:

February 1, 2007

The Pentagram
Washington, DC 20301
Attn.: Secretary of Defense

Dear Secretary Rumsfeld, you Fascist Dog Gates:

Listen up, Bob.

As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I am the goddamned SPEAKER in the House. Yeah, that’s me up there with the gabel and the good looks. As the goddamned SPEAKER, I am entitled to a plane to take me (and whomever else I damned well please) back and forth between Washington and San Francisco, and I don’t want to hear any crap about it from you mutts at the Pentagram. Remember just who it is who hands out the money for your people and their stupid, expensive toys that go boom.

Here are my requirements:

Size

The plane better damned well not be one inch shorter or one inch narrower than the one that President Stooooopid rides around in. I may not be the President, but I damned well might be (Look it up, Bob), and I’m way more sophisticated than he is. I also need more room for my shoes and stuff.

Exterior

I want something, like, groovy – you, know, psychedelic, but in pastels – heavy on the dusty rose, with big swirly letters on the side of the plane that spell “Madam SPEAKER”. Oh, and I don’t want any goddamned flags painted on the exterior. They would clash with the design and, besides, the people in my district don’t much like the American flag anyway. I want the plane to display peace signs instead of flags.

Interior

I want everything that President McHitlerburtonchimpymissionaccomplishedrunkcollegefratboydrugaddledmoron has on his plane, plus the following:

Hot tub for four
Sauna
Steam Room
Mirrors on all four walls and ceiling in my bedroom
Two walk-in closets
Incense burners
Aroma Therapy-capable ventilation system
A safe in which I can store some special seasonings (I do so like to cook)

Miscellaneous

I insist on having a cabin attendant who is a real chef, like from France? Helloooooo? I don’t want some damned broken down army cook with a goddamned crew cut serving me army slop.

Speaking of the flight crew, I want them to dress in designer suits, not in those stupid soldier uniforms. The people in my district become upset when they see soldier uniforms. In addition, I don’t wish to be saluted by the flight crew – that’s, like, such a fascist thing. A deep bow when in my presence will do.

Very truly yours,
Madam SPEAKER

P.S. Don’t even think about jerking me around on this, Bob. Remember what I said about the goddamned money.

Last night, one of our PRS Operatives caught up with Senator Ted Kennedy just as he was about to enter O’Hara’s Tavern. The following is a transcript of the interview:

PRS: “Senator Kennedy, I’m from PRS. Might you have a minute or two to answer a few questions?”

Kennedy: “PRS? Isn’t that some kind of female thing?”

PRS: “No Senator, that would be PMS. I’d like to ask you ….”

Kennedy: “Well hurry up about it. You’re cutting into my drinking time.”

PRS: “I will, sir. But, if you don’t mind my saying so, it appears that you may already have had a few.”

Kennedy: “BLOOD LEVELS, sonny boy!”

PRS: “Excuse me?”

Kennedy: “Blood levels. One has to keep the blood levels up. Obviously you don’t know shit about farkamology.”

PRS: “No, I suppose I don’t. But, I did want to ask you some questions about your questioning of Sam Alito.”

Kennedy: “Who?”

PRS: “Sam Alito. Judge Sam Alito.”

Kennedy: “Oh, the guy with the glasses – the Ginzo?”

PRS: “I certainly would not describe Judge Alito in that fashion.”

Kennedy: “Fine! What is it you want to ask me? I can feel my hands starting to shake here. My liver is barking.”

PRS: “Frankly, Senator, some of our readers were quite upset by your attempting to paint Judge Alito as a racist. I would like to know whether, in your heart, you really think that Judge Alito is a racist?”

Kennedy: “Personally, I don’t give a shit whether he is or isn’t. The only thing I know about the guy is that Bush nominated him and that’s enough reason for me to be against him.”

PRS: “In that case, Senator, don’t you think that making a charge as serious as racism is way over the top?”

Kennedy: “Listen Mr. PMS … PRS …whatever … I’m Ted goddamned Kennedy, and I can say whatever I want and do what I want in this town. Don’t screw around with me.”

PRS: “So, are you saying that you had no basis to make the charge, but you made it anyway, simply because you know you can get away with it?”

Kennedy: “You know what? I think that you’re the goddamned racist.”

PRS: “Pardon me?”

Kennedy: “You heard me. (shouting in the direction of two tall black men) “Hey Darrell, or Darnell, whatever it is, and your friend there, Whatshisname … Come here.”

Darnell: “What’s up?”

Kennedy: “This guy here is a goddamned racist. He just called you two guys ‘big dumb n**gers.’”

PRS: “He’s out of his mind. I never said that.”

Darnell: “Don’t worry. We work in the Senate Office Building, and we know him. He says stuff like this a lot, mostly when he is half ripped, which is most of the time..”

Darnell: (to Kennedy) “Hey Senator, maybe you should lighten up.”

Kennedy: “’Lighten up?’ Who the hell are you to talk to me like that? You obviously hate white people. You’re a goddamned, filthy racist!”

Darnell: “Senator, if I were you, I’d take a pass on O’Hara’s tonight and go directly home before someone not as nice as I am, or that fella is, shows up and hangs a beatin’ on your ass.”

PRS: “Thank you for your time, Senator.”

PRS Operatives where on hand to record an encounter between Piers Morgan, CNN’s obnoxious, bleating anti-gun punk.

EEEEEEEK!!

Why are you screeching?

You’re holding an assault rifle!

What are you talking about? It’s a water gun. It squirts water.

Don’t tell me, you little American gun nut piece of shit. I know an assault weapon when I see one.

It’s a water gun. It squirts water.

Yeah? Well, it’s got a trigger, doesn’t it?

It’s a water gun. It squirts water.

It’s got that handle thingy, doesn’t it?

It’s a water gun. It squirts water.

Even if what you’re saying is true, in a few years you’ll be buying one of black assault rifles that shoots lots of bullets – atomic bullets – and you’ll kill a bunch of people.

It’s a water gun. It squirts water.

You’re a bloodthirsty animal, and you hate people – especially children.

You may be the dumbest son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever met.

I’m calling the police.

Suit yourself, but they have real guns, and I don’t think they’re real fond of prissy assholes with British accents.

Thanks to commenter, Little Willie, for catching my lousy proofreading.

By now, many of you have probably read about Nancy Pelosi’s telling and re-telling the story about how, when visiting the George Bush White House, she heard the voice and felt the presence of Susan B. Anthony and other women historical figures. No, really.

PRS Operatives managed to obtain a recording of another of Nancy the dingbat’s voices.

Voice: Hey!

Nancy, the dingbat: Susan? Is that you?

Voice: No.

Nancy, the dingbat: Sojourner Truth? Elizabeth Cady Stanton? Lucretia Mott?

Voice: No!

Nancy, the dingbat: Who is speaking to me?

Voice: I’m your ass.

Nancy, the dingbat: My ass? What do you want?

Voice: Kindly remove your head. You’re killing me.

People actually voted for this mental case.

I’m sure that by now you all know about The Obama Event Registry. The object of this clever stunningly idiotic idea is for The One’s supporters who have a wedding, anniversary, birthday or other gift-giving event coming up, to forego receiving a gift, but rather to ask their gift-givers to click on the Obama Event Registry to make a gift to the Obama campaign.

PRS Operatives have learned of yet another fundraising scheme being cooked up by the geniuses running the Obama Campaign. In fact, we have obtained a copy of the fundraising letter that will mailed to The One’s supporters, and it will appear online as well. Take a look.

TAKE THE PLUNGE FOR BARACK.

Dear Friends and Supporters:

Quite simply, my re-election is absolutely critical to the future existence of the United States, the world and the planet. The Republicans, obstructionist fat cat creeps that they are, just don’t seem to realize that. We’re in for a tough fight this year, and Michelle and I need your help in a big way.

In that regard, I am happy to announce our “TAKE THE PLUNGE FOR BARACK” program, which provides you with a convenient way to make a meaningful donation to my campaign and thereby ensure that I have another four years in which to finish the job of fundamentally transforming America.

It’s easy! Here’s all you have to do:

1. Create your Last Will and Testament, leaving your entire estate to my campaign. If you already have a will, you will need to write a new one to accomplish this. Don’t worry about the cost of preparing the document, as Eric Holder and I have a virtual army of lawyers available to help you, free of charge, just a click away.

2. Properly execute the document in accordance with your state’s probate laws (our lawyers can help you with this – again, at no cost to you!)

3. Once you have executed your Last Will and Testament, locate a high bridge and take the plunge. If you are having trouble finding a suitably high bridge, consider throwing yourself in front of a bus or driving into a bridge abutment. This has to be done before November, and we ask that you “Take the Plunge” no later than October 15th, as we will need all the money we can get our hands on for the final run-up to Election Day.

Do it for your Leader!

It’s the right thing to do!

Thanks.

Your Pal,
Barack

Update: The lunacy continues — for real.

Linked by IMAO. Thanks!

As you by now know, the Beloved Leader of New York City, by regulatory fiat, will outlaw the sales of any sugary beverages by restaurants, sports venues, movie theaters, delis, and street carts in New York City in quantities larger than sixteen ounces. It’s all about obesity, dontcha know. Soopernanny is looking out for you, because he knows best.

PRS Operatives have obtained a draft of future regulations contemplated by His Excellency:

Restaurants

1. Restaurants must cut all food into bite-sized pieces before it is served to the customer. Food served to customers 65-years old, or older, must also be pre-chewed by the restaurant staff.

There are several reasons for the City taking these actions. Soopernanny is mindful of the number of choking deaths resulting from people putting too much food in their mouths at one time and not sufficiently chewing it before swallowing (Older diners often lack the robust dentition necessary for proper chewing). This regulatory action will also serve to reduce the incidence of indigestion for New York’s restaurant customers.

2. Consistent with Rule No. 1 (above), restaurants will no longer be permitted to provide customers with knives. This will prevent diners from cutting themselves with sharp implements, which, can also serve as dangerous weapons. Forks will also not be provided, as pre-cut and/or pre-chewed food can be safely enjoyed with a spoon.

3. Desserts will be permitted, provided that they contain no sugar and are served in a maximum portion size of one cubic inch. Restaurants will be permitted to serve only one portion of dessert per customer, and the restaurant shall not permit the practice of dessert sharing.

Sports Venues

1. The stadium or arena may sell hot dogs, but they shall be no larger than cocktail franks. Under no circumstances shall any customer be permitted to purchase more than two hot dogs at a time.

2. Peanuts can be sold, provided they are contained in a bag made of recycled paper containing no more than six peanuts per bag. Under no circumstances shall any customer be permitted to purchase more than two bags of peanuts at a time.

Note: PRS Operatives will monitor future regulatory developments in the Nanny City across the Hudson River.

I am a Beach Boys fan. They came on the scene when I was in high school and have been making great music, often with complex and sweet harmonies, for more than a half a century.

However, they, like I, are getting to be a bit long in the tooth.

PRS Operatives have learned that the Beach Boys will be releasing a new album, which contains many of their hits remade to be a bit more age-appropriate. Here is a sample:

Spittle Deuce Coupe

Burpin’ Safari

Little Hot Lady from Pasadena

Wipe Me Rhonda

Be True to Your Stool

Nappin’ USA

I Got Around

(I Can’t) Do it Again

Poop John B.

When I Blow Up and Need the Can

Good Dilations

Keep rockin’ fellas.

PRS Operatives learned of a recent discussion between the Department of Energy Secretary, Steven Chu and President Obama and, using proprietary technology, were able to record it.

Chu: Good afternoon, Mr. President.

Obama: (Not looking up from the Sports Section of the “Washington Post”). What is it Steve? I hope it’s important, because, as you can see, I’m very busy.

Chu: Yes, Mr. President; I’ll try to be brief.

Obama: (Still not looking up from the sports section) OK, get on with it.

Chu: Yes sir. I wanted to tell you about a request for a loan guarantee I just received for another green energy project.

Obama: (Turning pages)

Chu: Sir?

Obama: (Turning pages) I’m listening. Get to it.

Chu: Yes sir. The request comes from a gentleman named Elmer Krakus. He makes buggy whips in his garage. He has been doing so for about six months. Currently he manufactures one whip per day. Each whip sells for fifty dollars and so far he’s sold four whips. He feels certain that buggy whips will be big in the coming years, as the country moves away from fossil fuels, and he, therefore, wants to expand his facility. More specifically, he wants to build a 50,000 square feet state-of-the-art buggy whip factory, complete with energy efficient equipment. The project is expected to cost four-hundred million dollars. He went to his bank for a four-hundred million dollar loan, and the banker almost fell off the chair laughing.

Obama: (Still turning pages) And he wants me to approve a loan guarantee of four hundred million dollars?

Chu: Yes, sir. It is, after all, a green energy project, and he is very environmentally conscious. He recycles, keeps his thermostat low in the winter and uses only compact fluorescent light bulbs.

Obama: (Still reading newspaper) Four-hundred million for a buggy whip factory? Are you out of your mind? This is the urgent matter you interrupted my afternoon for?

Chu: There’s one more thing, sir.

Obama: (Still turning pages) Yes?

Chu: Mr. Krakus just contributed fifty-thousand dollars to your campaign and he bundled another fifty thousand from friends.

Obama: (Looking up from the newspaper). Dammit, Steve. Why didn’t you say that at the beginning? Of course we’ll guarantee the loan.

Chu: Thank you, sir. I’ll let him know.

Obama: (Returns to reading the sports section)

PRS Operatives have managed to obtain copies of the correspondence between Nancy Pelosi and that Jolly old Elf.

Nancy’s Letter to Santa

Dear Santa:

Hi! Nancy here! You know who I am, because I am a very important person. In fact, for a time I was two heartbeats away from the presidency, but then those rat bastard Rethuglicans took the House of Representatives, and that skunk John Boehner stole my gabel. That made it a tough year for me, but I still do very important things, like make speeches and stuff where I say important and interesting things. While doing all these important things I still manage to look super hot.

So, seeing as how I’ve been a really good girl, I know you will bring me everything on my list. Here it is:

A mirror that will tell me every day that I am the fairest in the land

Some tie dye thongs

A coke dealer who makes house calls on time and who offers quantity discounts

A complete collection of Moby Grape CDs. They were soooo groovy.

At least a half a kilo of Maui Wowie.

Something that would keep Chuck Schumer from constantly grabbing my ass.

A plague on every stinking Rethuglican in the congress and the evil, racist bastards who vote for them.

I can’t wait for Christmas morning to get all my gifts!

You pal,
Nancy

Santa’s Response

Dear Nancy:

I wanted to let you know that I received your letter up here in the North Pole. In your letter you asked for many things for Christmas. As you know, I keep track of who’s been naughty and who’s been nice. I hate to tell you this, but you didn’t score any “nice” points this year, and you came close to breaking the record for “naughty” points (the record is currently held by the bad boy in the White House).

I’ll be blunt. Are you shitting me? Do you think that Santa doesn’t know about all that weed, blow, Cristal and that “Hide the Salami” stuff? Let me tell you something, Missy. Santa don’t play that shit and he doesn’t do plagues.

Tie dye thongs? Sweet Jesus, woman. My elves howled with laughter at that one – then puked.

A magic mirror? Ha! You don’t need a magic mirror. Just ask Chris Matthews. He’ll tell you that you’re the fairest in the land whenever you like, and he’ll kiss your ass to boot.

Moby Grape? Gimme a freakin’ break!

Something to keep Chuck Schumer from grabbing your ass? I suggest that you show it to him. That oughta do it.

Bad girls normally get coal in their stocking, but it is difficult to find coal these days, thanks again to that annoying kid in the White House. Besides, you are so thoroughly loathsome, coal would be too good for you. Because Santa doesn’t like to leave someone with an empty stocking, on Christmas morning, in your stocking you will find a pound of steaming reindeer shit.

Very truly yours,
Santa

PRS Operatives managed to catch up with New Jersey “Republican” Congressman Scott Garrett on his way to work.

Congressman Garrett, PRS here. Do you have time for a question or two?

I suppose so, but I am, as I’m sure you know, very busy with important things.

OK, I’ll get right to it. Could you explain to me the reason why you joined with nine other Republican congressmen to vote against the rescinding the ban on the sale of incandescent light bulbs, thereby forcing Americans to light their homes with those compact fluorescent things?

I don’t see a problem with the ban. There is nothing wrong with compact fluorescent light bulbs.

Did you consider that compact fluorescent bulbs don’t come on instantly when cold, that they cause seizures in some people and that they produce sterile light, which many people simply do not like?

Well, they are better for the environment.

Did you consider that they contain mercury, which means that they require special disposal procedures and that when dropped, they can’t be simply swept up and put in the trash, but rather require Hazmat-type procedures to clean up the broken bulb?

Yes, I’m aware of all those things, but I still think that the law banning old-fashioned light bulbs is a good idea.

Do all the light fixtures in your home contain exclusively compact fluorescent light bulbs?

I don’t think the type of light bulbs I use in my home is any of your business.

Do you feel it?

Feel what?

The earth-shaking irony in your last statement.

I don’t know what you mean.

I didn’t think you would.