Friday, September 11, 2009
Two Words (And oh-so-much fun!)
Joe Wilson’s Internal Dialog after “Outburst”
“You lie!”
Ah giblits. Did I think that or say that? [Looks around] Yep. Looks like I said that. [Clears throat].
I’m sure nobody heard me. Just the guys around me. It’s not like I said it that loud.
Nothing to get my knickers in a twist about.
Oh, Lord Almighty. Yep. Big O heard it. I’m getting that stink-eye from him. Dude. I hate the stink-eye. Looks like the prez could pretty much raise hell and put a chunk under it.
He’s scanning the area. I’ll just look around. C’mon guys. Oh, Lord. Creek's rising and I'm up to my ass in alligators. Big time. Help me out here. Jesus, it’s not like I’m Trent Lott or anything.
God it would be good to have some kind of distraction here. Something even worse than what I did.
Where’s Sarah Palin when you need her?
Hey. Do you think I’ll become a Saturday Night Live star, too?
Jesus Christ, Lord Almighty, he’s STILL staring over here. C’mon, man. Okay, Barack. Barack, Barack bo Barack, Bananafana Fo Farack, Mi my mo Marack … Barack.
Did I say that out loud, too? [Looks around] Doesn’t look like it. Filter. Filter. Filter thoughts. Maybe that’s what my life coach Sylvia is always talking about. Filter, Big Joe. Just filter.
This will totally blow over. I mean who’s really gonna care about this in the next ten minutes?
Gotta catch his eye. Catch his eye. C’mon McCain look my way and give me one of those thumbs up you like to give with that twitchy wink of yours. C’mon, help me out here. Did he just glare? Like Debate #2 condescending daggers glare? Oh, Geez, John. Not you, too.
Right now I could chew nails and fart tacks. Bad night to not take my Beano. I mean this kind of stress is murder on the digestive system. And tonight of all nights I double-dosed on the chitlins.
Dude, he’s still staring at me. Good Lord willing and the creek don't rise, I reckon my party and constituents got my back. Did Mitch McConnel l just blow me off? Well you can just kiss my royal American. I’ve got your back, too.
This has to blow over. It just has to. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think.
Tourette’s. Okay. I can do that. Tourette’s. If I say a whole slew of other vulgarities, I can win the disabled vote. I’m a Congressman. I have Tourette’s. Oh yeah. Shoe-in for next term.
Wait. Shit. Is that a pre-existing condition? Lordy, Lordy.
[reading small print of insurance stub].
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