Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: white house

Hamilton: The Dialogue

“He is a varlet!”

“Yes, yes.”

“A rank scoundrel bound neither by convention nor morality!”

“I know, but it’s all you talk about, Hammy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I just want to discuss something other than politics. Just for a little bit.”

“Easy for you to say. I’ve ne’er heard a statement more imbued with white privilege, General Washington.”

“White privilege? Have you been talking to Martin Luther King Bust again?”

“He’s a powerful speaker.”

“He is a divisive race-baiter.”

“I heard that, you tree-mouthed motherfucker.”

“I meant you to, Dreamy.”

“General Washington, the man is a cad and a bounder.”

“So was my brother Billy.”

“Your brother was named Billy?”

“He made beer.”

“We’re off the point. This miscreant means to bring down what we strove and fought to bring about. He shall be the end of the republic.”

“You have a very Chicken Little attitude towards life.”

“And you, sir, are like Pliny’s ostrich. Head buried in the sand.”

“How dare you?”

“I dare!”

“Then we shall duel!”

“Dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say–”

“WHY DID YOU SAY ‘DUEL?'”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“IT’S A SENSITIVE FUCKING ISSUE, MAN!”

“You’re right, Al. You’re right. My bad, my dude. All on me. My bad.”

“I’m hyperventilating.”

“Breathe. Just breathe.”

“I need a paper bag.”

“Well, we’re portraits. So you can’t have one.”

“Just gimme a sec.”

“Take as much time as you need.”

“You really are a rotten asshole, you slaver motherfucker.”

“FUCK YOU, MARTY! No one asked your opinion!”

“From the piney woods of Georgia to the mighty redwoods of California; from the desert to the sea; from the lunch counters of Alabama to the auction blocks of New Orleans: one of these days, I’m going to beat your ass, George.”

“You call me General Washington, damn you!”

“Right after you suck on my nuts.”

“George Washington sucks on no nuts!”

“Big black free nuts, buddy. Take out your teeth and open wide.”

“Gentlemen! Stop fighting! We must put aside our petty differences and solve the problem to hand. For providence’s sake, he’s even brought streetwalkers into the Oval Office.”

“I think that’s his wife.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I cannot tell a lie.”

“Nice.”

“Right?”

“She looks like a off-brand Barbie doll left in the car on a hot day.”

“Regardless. She is the First Lady.”

“Worst lady.”

“You know, Hammy–”

“Don’t call me that.”

“–I’m beginning to think that there is nothing this man can do right in your eyes.”

“You should have been thinking that for some time now, General. He has proven foul in every possible way. Why are you defending him? He belongs to a political party and loves foreign entanglements. He’s everything you despise.”

“Not everything.”

“What? What, then, is the attribute of this homunculus that you admire?”

“Well. You know.”

“No.”

“You knooooooow.”

“I truly do not.”

“I don’t want to say in front of Martin Luther King Bust.”

‘I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE ABOUT HIM, MOTHERFUCKER!”

“I hate the both of you and wish I were out in the hall with Clinton Portrait and Kennedy Portrait.”

“I’ve heard they throw some good parties.”

Overheard That Time The Grateful Dead Took A Tour Of The White House

  • No, Mr. Owsley, you cannot examine the communication system.
  • Billy just punched an usher in the dick.
  • Someone go down to the Situation Room and let Keith out.
  • I don’t know how he got in there in the first place, let alone lock himself in; just go get him.
  • Then wake him up: just get him out of there!
  • Carpet-cleaners to the Situation Room.
  • Do you smell smoke?
  • All the Grateful Deads need to stop calling the president “President Branford;” it’s just incredibly inappropriate.
  • “President Oteil” is just as bad, Billy.
  • Why is there 8 tons of gear in the Map Room?
  • Whoever it was that ordered pizza: the delivery boy just ran off with the CIA Daily Briefing.
  • No, Bobby: State Dinners aren’t when the president has ribs with all the governors.
  • Billy just punched the social secretary in the dick.
  • Flotus has asked for Pigpen to be kept away from her.
  • You dosed the Secret Service? I dosed the Secret Service. Jesus, how many people dosed the Secret Service? We should go check on them.
  • A burning smell; no one else smells that?
  • Lenny Hart has stolen the nuclear football.
  • Someone needs to tell Mickey taking his dick out under the Lyndon Johnson’s portrait while screaming, “EL BEEJAY!” at female passers-by is just not gonna work.
  • Because besides it being the White House, it’s an office; you just can’t have drummers taking their dicks out.
  • No, he can’t keep screaming if he puts his dick away; every part of what he’s doing is unacceptable.
  • Billy just punched White House communications director C.J. Cregg in the dick.
  • The road crew found the secret tunnels, and now they’re racing dirt-bikes.
  • Why are there people selling burritos in the Rose Garden?
  • Flotus has asked for John Mayer to be kept away from the First Daughters.
  • How did Katy Perry get in here?
  • Like the Treaty Room is on fire: I’m the only one who smells that?
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