my lips to your ear
Yeah, I said it, that was me. Big as life and twice as ugly, like we used to say when I was a kid and we'd be outside on a hot summer day playing stickball, down on the corner of 6th and Tasker in South Philly, dodging the cars and trolleys. Comin' at you, sucker, keep your head held up way high.
Yeah, I made it, I made it real good. I'm only forty-one and here I am, just two heartbeats away from being the Press Secretary of the United States of America. Who'd a thunk it? Wasn't that long ago people was saying "Hey Salvatore" - they all called me Salvatore in the old neighborhood, or sometimes Sally for short - they'd be saying "Hey Salvatore, when you gonna ditch that goombah Santorum and make something out of yourself?"
Obviously that day has come, and I can finally tell the old gang "Hey, whattsamatter with you guys, any of you got your own Wikipedia page?" Sure it's a little sparse compared to The Snowman's or even Dana's, but there's no denying I'm a major player now.
I can go to the press pool, call President Peanut a useless old fart, and it carries the full weight of the presidential vernacular. I'm his mouthpiece. How cool is that? I'm thinking, this might just be the high point of my life so far, although I have every reason to think that things are just going to get better and better for me from here on out.
I can just see old Carter, sitting at his breakfast table, drawling 'you mind passin' me the front page, Roslyn', and then he sees what GWB said about him using my mouth, and it pings his heart, and he says, 'Dang me, George Bush isn't the worst president ever, that distinction belongs solely to me, but it took Tony Fratto to make me see the light. Damn him to hell'.
Look at me, I got Jimmy Carter to cuss! I could have said a lot worse, believe me, and I'm betting that I get a chance to do just that. Look at that mug of his, will you, all pink and fleshy, jaw clinched, looks like he's swallowed his lips, and he's thinking I wish I knew where Tony Fratto lived so I could kick his ass, but at the same time, see, look at the eyes, they're all welled up, and I think he's going to cry. Cry Mister Peanut, go ahead and turn on the waterworks, and let the world know the name of the guy who told you what for.
I'm Tony Fratto, Assistant Deputy White House Press Secretary, not a man to be trifled with.
©2007, Mark Hoback