MAYDAY!! Mayday!! Bill's Bitter Pill Sticks to His Obama Crawl HRod Hits the Wall!! Scotty Plames Out!!

The world as I knew it had become a chaotic mess filled with Vice Presidents who either couldn't shoot straight or who keeps his wife chained to a bike, generating enough carbon-neutral energy to make 500 lead-free Hannah Montana Perky Dolls.

So, I resolved once more to slink back to the Compound and resume My Life's Work as a West Texas Baby Doctor. But, as usual, Stuff Happened. Because of my vast experience with Petco and the hard-hitting world of full contact Managed Care-I got a crusty jingle on my Phone from the Honorable John McCaln.

Doc, I need help-Gltmo Water Interviewing, Medicare, Lap-Bands, mercury-infested vaccines, Alzheimers, Bama's nicotine addiction, ecstasy-thumbs up or thumbs down? I have medical issues and no one with the guts to tackle them for John McCain. You have been personally recommended by Tipper, Babs Bush, Dr Phil, and the entire cast of The McLaughlin Report, including Don Imus who called you a medical moron incapable of selling Trojans at the Bunny Ranch.

If you say no, Scotty McC will write a new book detailing the medical havoc you wreaked on those illegal Swedish Immigrants who ended up in Juarez with some type of reindeer-induced terminal turista.

But Scotty doesn't even know me from Scooter Libby.

That's ok. He never met Val Plame either and he wrote a damn good book full of hanky panky exposed to the max.

But I'm a pediatrician. What do I know about Medicare?

Dammit, Doc, I'm running for President, and I don't know a damn thing about I-raq, No problem. That's what you have people around to cover your ass. You call 'em nurses-I call them assistant to the President. Hell!! it's all a game, and I promise I'll buy you a new X-Box loaded with Wll and Grand Theft Auto if you do a good job of making Bama look like he doesn't know Viagra from Cialls when it comes to medical stuff.

But I don't know squat about Viagra or Cialls, except that Petco makes you bark like a Doberman before they approve either one.

Now, come on, I know you want the glitz and glamour of working for a rock star future President. And, if you promise not to tell anyone, I've got the best, smoothest, and most experienced user of Viagra and Cialls you've ever seen working for the McCain Machine. In fact, this guy dislikes Bama so much, he has sworn off Twizzlers and Big Macs till Barack cries uncle and retires to a life of Green Gro commercials with Pat Robertson and Al Sharpton.

Twizzlers? BigMacs? You can't be serious. Willy Clyde Clinton is a born-again Democrat. No way!!

Way!! Willy C's standing right next to me as we speak and he is pissed let me tell ya. He's mad at Bama Barack. He's ticked off at H-Rod. He's ready to go postal on the great Nancy Pelosl. The man does not like to lose and neither does JohnnyMac. So I've appointed him Chief of my Swift Boat 2008 Cammando Force, and he's excited as hell to have a fellow Texan serving with him.

Fellow Texan? He's from sooey-pig Arkansas!!

Doc, Doc-pigs can fly and Willy Clyde Clinton can change country of origin. So Hook-em Horny Toads and Ride 'em Cowboy-you and I are gonna kickass for JohnnyMac.

With that, my iPhone went dead, shocked and overcome by the unexpurgated content that it had just transmitted to my reeling brain. As I sat dazed and confused, my iPhone sprang back to life with a text from a very Dark Place:

Doc-2 Texans working and sweating together to win at all costs-YeeHaw!! McCain Reigns!! (Except of course when it comes to Grand Theft-no mercy and no prisoners-you're dead meat!!)

Hook'em, Big Tex

Willy Clyde.