McCain Hustles for Bush's Wealthy Friends

Election '08

I'm a little worried about John McCain. Not simply because of that nasty looking marsupial pouch stapled to his upper neck, but because he seems determined to wrong-headedly barrel down a path more dangerous than slaloming downhill blindfolded on a black diamond course with barbed wire gates at night. Let me explain. A while back, the erstwhile Senator from Arizona scheduled a fundraiser featuring President Bush at the Convention Center in Phoenix. But a few Democrats who weren't distracted by the ugly alley fight going on behind their own garage raised a stink. So they threw the most exquisitely horrible epithet at the Senator they could think of -- John McBush.

This insult and some like it proved to be the motivation to move McCain's intimate soiree to a private home in Phoenix. Lots of deep-pocketed big time potential donors were invited but strangely, not the media. I'm guessing he's a mite reluctant to have that part of the electorate known as The Undecided see him all tarted up in fishnets and heels, dancing around a greased pole in front of his big Crawford Sugar Daddy. And if that image excites you, seek therapy.

The problem is even though the two get along like a cobra and a mongoose, Mr. McCain is really broke and must need to suck at George W. Bush's silicone enhanced money tit, but isn't all that anxious to have a record of it. Typical case of needing the cash, but not the photo-op. Just another politician who wants to have his cake with the rich green icing flowing down and eat it too. Stuck between a despised lunkhead and a barren bank account, McCain is damned if he does and doomed if he don't. Can't live with the president and can't take a ball-peen hammer to his head and crack him open like a piggy bank then get down on his knees and scoop up every single coin that falls to the floor, even those that roll under the dresser.

Say what you will about the president, he knows how to turn the switch that greases the gears of the Republican Party Cash Machine. Oh sure, he may have an approval rating lower than a puppy-eating cobra, but this puppy-eating cobra lays the golden egg. The last seven years have been very, very good for America's wealthy, which means the wealthy still like George Bush very, very much and they will pay very, very good money to hang out and have their pictures taken with him. He's not only a rich person, he's a rich person's rich person. And though he may have to bite his tongue and hold his nose, Mr. McCain is smart enough to squeeze into those pictures and do what he can to keep them from getting published.

If George W. Bush really wants to help John McCain, the best way to do it is avoid the Senator like a swimming pool full of squirming mongooses. Walk away from the diving board. Go back into the changing room. Put his street clothes on. Then from the cool dark recesses of a remote cavern in the wilds of Utah, write a series of nice big fat checks. Come to think of it, sounds like a pretty good way to help me out as well. You too, I bet.

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