Baboon Adopts Bush Baby – Former President George W. Bush In A Tizzy.

A Spoon Full Of Sugar Makes The Medicine Go Down.  The feel good story going around is from the Nairobi Animal Orphanage where a real life odd couple now roams.  A baboon has adopted an orphaned bush baby, a small, arboreal primate who happens to be as cute as the baboon is not.  Reuters reports, “the duo cavort around in each others’ arms, drink milk out of the same bowl and poke mischievously at a Reuters television camera.”  This is what we’d call a tonic story:  a sweet-tasting med to chase away the real news of Weiners, Newts, and other disasters.

So who would’ve predicted that this little treat would bring George W. Bush back into public life?  Or, at least, semi-public life.  It seems that the cuddly bush baby and generous baboon have the former President in a bit of a tizzy, involving early morning gallops to Crawford city from his Texas ranch, strong medications urged by his doctors, and a belief system as admirable as it is bizarre . . . Please read on to hear and see the plight of the kind hearted private citizen, Mr. George W. Bush.

“How was I supposed to know?”

 “Laura Didn’t Even Tell Me She Was With Child.”  June 15, 2011, Editor, TWSA! 

Former President George W. Bush was at breakfast a few mornings ago as Crawford’s newspaper, In The News, was being read to him by his morning reader.  Our anonymous source, Bush’s favorite roustabout, who, in his authentically charming “hick” accent and dubious grammar, told me a strangely affecting story about a Bush, a bush baby, a baboon, and the emotional bond they forged.  

After arriving completely blotto at the Bush ranch, my source cleaned me up and brought me back to the real world with a friendly right hook that dislodged my glasses and sent them flying about 70 yards downwind. Then, outside the main barn at the ranch, while sitting painfully on our haunches, he on his, me on mine, we sized each other up, without saying a single word.  He hacked up a fistfull of phlegm about every eight minutes, but other than that, he simply stared at me with his mismatched eyes. An hour and a half later, after a stiff cup of what he said was “Texas acid” (coffee, I think) – and after I hurled it all up with great and agonizing heaves – he seemed to accept me.

We then got down to work. Speaking through a mouth adorned with approximately three teeth and something that looks like a small green glowing rock, my source spit on my shoes and jumped into his tale:

“So, one story in the mornin’ paper really catched Mr. President’s eye.
It was called ‘Bush Baby Adopted By Baboon.‘  Soon’s he heared just the first sentence, he took off from the table fast as a Democrat leavin’ an NRA meeting. Here, I’ll read it to ya’ – 

‘Clinging to the under-belly of a baboon, Gakii, a 3-month-old orphaned bush baby has plumped for an unlikely surrogate-mother,’

Anyways, off he went, looking for Laura who he didn’t ‘member was visitin’ friends in Dallas for the past three days. He’s a little slow, you see. Anyways, he gets on his horse Vapid and off he goes to the In the News office in Crawford lookin’ to meet up with the editor. 

So there he is, still in his pyjamas, gallopin’ so hard and fast that he’s a-swingin’ side to side like a rodeo clown on hippie drugs. His feet flying everywhere’s so’s his slippers go flyin’ off, and such. His pyjama top goin’ up and over his head. Hell, even if he was standing right next to me I’d still’ve cracked up laughin’!  But, bless his heart, he were in a hurry to save his baby.”

Heard by Crawford minister as the former President rode by – – “Gonna save my baby!  Gonna save my baby BOY! Baboon my ass!!  Gonna saaaaaaaaavvvvvvvveeeee . . . .”

My gray bearded, gap toothed, one legged anonymous source continued:

“Once he were there he asked the editor could he please talk up a storm ’bout this baboon stealin’ his baby boy, and since it were a slow day, the man tol’ him ‘Certainly sir. And you are . . . ?’  You see, the President was all dustied up from his ride inta town and nobody recognized him. But they took him into the newspaper commode, and cleaned him up as spic an’ span as a Catholic priest’s daughter.

So as I told ya, this bush baby adoption had him mad as a Republican on Medicare, you see.  And, praise God, now he gets his chance to talk. And he tells ’em how he didn’t know Laura was even pregnant, how women are really good at hiding them things, how Laura’d done that to him before with both them girls of theirs, how he was gonna get that Bush baby back, how ‘Gaaki’ ain’t no name for a Bush baby Momma, and all kinds of suchlike.

“If I don’t get my Bush baby back   from that thievin’ baboon monkey he’s gonna grow up lookin’ like this,” the former President opined.

The editor and the other reporters, since this had drawed a crowd, were pretty surprised I’ll tell ya. Someone asked him,

‘How do you know fer sure this “Bush baby” was Missus Laura’s at all? Mebbe it’s one of yer daughter Jenna’s, or mebbe it belongs to that other daughter of yours.’   

‘Well,’ Mr. President says, ‘I don’ know and I don’ care. A Bush baby is a Bush baby! And a baboon is a stinkin’ monkey. I’m getting my baby boy back. I want this as bad as I want bin Laden dead. This Bush baby adoption will not stand!’ 

No one had the heart to tell ’bout ol’ Osama bin Laden, by the way. . .

They all listened real polite and kinda shook their heads and looked at each other like they was listenin’ to a coyote with a dead possum a-sittin’ on his head. Know what I mean? So, ’cause he was a great President that got us into a lot of good wars, the editor was a bit concerned ’bout what he was hearin’. And so he calls Mr. Bush’s brain doctors. Later on, after they got marchin’ orders from the docs, they gave him a coke with some tranqylizers in it or some such. All sudden like he just starts a-gigglin’ and then hollers, “Mission Accomplished!” and right then he falls off his chair. He weren’t hurt ’cause he’s used to doin’ that.


The real deal that George W. Bush simply cannot accept.

 Anyways, right now, he’s here at home restin’ up. The afternoon reader is readin’ him some of his dictatations on his new book – it’s called ‘Decisioning,’ but don’t let that get out. He’d be madder than a Democrat who got a job! He called the Crawford office of that Child Pertector Place, and even though they didn’t understand anything he said, they’re coming over anyways out of respect for Laura, you see. They advised Mr. Bush to call his mental folks real quick, which he did. Told them all about the Bush baboon baby thing too. After that he went straight to the bed. Oh wait. First he tried callin’ ol’ man Cheney, but he wouldn’t take his call.

So, fer now, we’re just watchin’ and waitin’. Watchin’ and waitin’ It’s like that time he believed that Sandy Claus died . . .”