With so much drama in the DPRK…

August 6, 2009

I’m having some gin and juice with the pimptastic former senator from Mississippi Trent Lott, because it’s 10am somewhere in the world.  And the TV up on the wall is showing the footage of Bill Clinton bringing those two journalists back home after getting them freed from North Korea.

“I gotta go…” Trent Lott abruptly says, his hands fumbling for the money for the last round of drinks.  “I gotta go now.”

“But we’re not even drunk yet,”  I say.  “Why are you bugging out on me now?”

The answer to that question comes in the form of Bill Clinton, the only man on Earth Trent Lott fears, kicking in the door to the bar and strolling in.

“You thinking about me again, boy?” Bill Clinton yells at Trent Lott.  “I hear your thoughts, bitch.  I know you were thinking about me. What I tell you about that shit?”

“You were on the TV, I couldn’t help it,” Trent Lott says.

“Oh yeah?”  says Bill Clinton.  “They were showing me bringing back those two girls from North Korea, right?  Yeah, you see that shit?  You see that motherfuckin’ shit?  I gets shit done, honkey!  I’m the motherfuckin’ pimp of pimps!  I went up to N-izzle Ko-rizzle and laid my game down thick. Ya feel me?”

“Feel ya, dawg,” Trent Lott says, more out of fear than of actually feeling what Bill Clinton was saying.

“Kim Jong-Izzle knows I stack mad paper,” says Bill Clinton.  “They all know.  They all know my gators cost more than what they spend all year on tanks and guns and shit.  They all know who has the strongest pimp hand in the land.  Who else is strolling into Pyongyang and walking out with ho’s?”

“Uh… no one, dawg,” says Trent Lott.  “You’re the mack.”

“You god damn right, sucka,” says Bill Clinton.  “And what has your ass done lately, ya bitch-ass mark?  I don’t see your ass doing shit.  Look at you.  Ain’t done shit, ain’t worth shit, ain’t never gonna be shit.  My dick does more by 10am than your punk-ass does all fiscal year.  Recognize, fool!”

“I said you were the mack, dawg,” says Trent Lott.  “No need to be trippin’.”

“Game recognizes game, cracka,” says Bill Clinton.  “And right now all y’all asses be lookin’ pretty unfamiliar.  Now get me a Crown and coke before I beat yo ass with y’own shoes.”

So Trent Lott goes to order the drink and Bill Clinton looks over and sees me.

“Hi, hope we can count on your continued support for a nationalized health care plan,” says Bill Clinton, shaking my hand.

“Anything to piss off the screaming head on the radio,” I say.

Trent Lott comes back with Bill Clinton’s drink.  The former President promptly chugs it down and then slams the empty glass over Trent Lott’s head.

“Next time I find out you’re thinking about me I’m gettin’ medieval on that ass, ya honkey-ass cracka-ass trick,” says Bill Clinton, then he leaves the bar.

Luckily for Trent Lott, his steady unmovable head of hair took the bulk of the blow.  But as he pulls himself up off the floor and back onto his bar stool I can see a few spots where the glass cut him.

“At least he didn’t fuck my hair this time,” Trent Lott says, wiping the blood from his face with a cocktail napkin.

Any day you don’t get your hair fucked by a former Head of State is a good day.





  1. That just fucked my head.

    B-Clinton is as badass as George Clinton.


  2. bill is down with the rest of us… his woman’s a bitch and half his friends are in jail.

  3. Now I’m not afraid to say what I’ve been thinking for a couple of days, to wit, if you’ve got Hot Asian Babes In Bondage, who else but Bill Clinton is gonna be there lickety-split? So to speak.

    (I say High Five to Bill and whoever else helped get those women outa there, and if he fucked Trent Lott’s hair so much the better.)

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