"Twenty lines with the president," a fictional satire of a fictional satire by the Great Charles Sheen

Twenty Lines With the President

Reported by CHARLIE SHEEN and his friend "Manly Gloss" [insert fear-based advertising]

Infopwarsh

Tuesday, September eleventy-twelve, 2009


Related: "Sheen blasts media for reporting truth about his addictions."

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I recently--hiccough!--had the great pleasure of spending time with the president and several substances, some legal, others not. Bouncing a hooker on my knee was out, so I hid her in the bathroom of the Lincoln bedroom with my friend and erstwhile cohort, "Manly Gloss." The funny thing is, nobody else can see Manly, but I can assure you readers and my family (you can forget about the interventions pa, I have a gun now) that Manly's as real as you or me. Where the hell was I? Sorry, had to some DTs coming on...shit, uh--OH YEAH! Alex Jones asked me--since I'm famous, on the most popular TV comedy right now, to write an interview with President Barack HUSSEIN Obama, the 44th POTUS, and a socialist (needed spellcheck on that one!) darkie.

Our ersatz interview was conducamacated in the Lincoln bedroom, a place in the White House where the spirit of that assassinated president is sometimes seen, along with the smell of other spirits, so it was right up my alley. An autistic fella told me that twenty minutes is comprised of 1200 seconds, which is profound for a drunk, washed-up cokehead and whore-monger like yours truly, but it got me to thinking: "What the fuck was I thinking about with this interview, anyway?!"

I mean, the readers here at prisontoilet and infopwarsh are so retarded they're gonna think this shit is real, y'know? You think I'm wrong? Look at the comments below, fuck me, and I mean it, I have a sexual addiction...

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Charlie Sheen: Uh--burp!--sorry about that Mr. President, I had a few-too-many on the red eye here to nation's capital, they just keep shoveling them into your lap--especially when you demand it every five minutes.

Barack Obama: Well--uh--thank you--uh--Charlie, and I have to say that I watch your "Two and a Half Men" show frequently here in the Oval office, it's as entertaining as the Tea Baggers and the town hall folks. It's a nice apolitical break from a hard day's work of avoiding the real issues, and I can tell you that that's a very hard job indeed. But then, that's what Rahm's for: to remind who's really in charge.

Manly Gloss: Shhhhhhhhhhhh...

CS: [Looks over to the bathroom of the Lincoln bedroom] Shut the fuck up!

BO: Uh...what was that?

Manly Gloss: Look--Charlie--you created me to find some kind of much needed objectivity here. What's the deal? Just get on with the interview, don't respond to me, ignore the man behind the curtain of reality.

CS: Right. Er, Mr. President. Why won't you examine the issue of thermite being found in the residue around the WTC ruins? Sorry, bad copy, Alex wrote this.

BO: Well, Charlie, the scientific community is in-consensus on this. "Nano-thermite" is a byproduct in welding. Also, nano-thermite is created from the super-heating of aluminum and steel. As anyone knows, much of the WTC was constructed of steel, the planes were constructed of aluminum, and the very girders of the buildings that were destroyed on 9/11 were fused together through conventional welding.

CS: Shit, you got me Mr. President--but do you agree with the findings of the 9/11 Commission then? I was hoping to create a straw man argument here, but you're clever, at least three-moves ahead of me, what with that homespun "negro wisdom" and all. I mean, you got me, I knew it too. God, I wish I had that "voice of authority" my pops has...

BO: Well, you know Charles--may I call you that?

CS: Certainly, sir. I feel like I'm talking to myself, this is so natural.

BO: Hahahaha, indeed it is Charles. You see, you understood this because you're Black Irish. We'll leave it at that, heh-heh. [They both laugh, then stop abruptly, becoming very serious]

Manly Gloss: Pssst! Charlie! Ask him about his birth certificate.

CS: Nah-nah, no way!

BO: Who are you talking to? Charles, I'm frankly becoming concerned for you.

CS: Look, Mr. President, I know something to win you over, and that's cocaine. Let's hit the bathroom.

BO: No, no, Charles, I left that part of my life behind long ago, money power are my drugs nowadays, and they're more socially acceptable. But our relations with the Colombian oligarchy are good, sound, and my Attorney General--Mr. Holder--knows how to "do business" down there, if you know what I mean. [winks]

CS: [shaking violently] Gotcha. Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to hit the bathroom. You think Rahm might want to join me?

BO: Assuredly, he's from Chicago and Hollywood, hahahaha. I would never appoint anyone I couldn't blackmail right back, now would I? Let me hit my Blackberry, he'll be here in moments. We might have to open the door so that he doesn't--uh--rip it off of the hinges!

CS: Gotcha. Do you think that 9/11 was an inside job?

BO: No.

CS: Uh...shit. Alex gave me all these talking points and notes, and I...seem to have lost them, maybe left them in the rental outside. OK...uh. You think that the Bush administration perhaps was incompetent on that day?

BO: [smiling broadly] I couldn't say...does this all seem unreal to you, like we're part of some fake reality? Have you ever had that feeling? I feel it a lot lately.

CS: [shudders] Yes. My God, Mr. President, we're characters in someone's simulacrum, a phony narrative.

BO: I agree, but is it simply Alex Jones's?

CS: No, this is something more profound, perhaps cosmological. Now my head hurts after thinking and saying that, but that's a given. Man, I need a drink, a bump...

Criswell: Mr. President, I predict that you will pass a major health bill, reforming the health care system of America. But, because you lack all principles, it will flounder and you'll be forced to push for that Mars mission the last executive did once his political capital was entirely expended.

CS: AHHHH!!! Who the fuck is that, Mr. President?! Where did he come from?

BO: Haw! That's the ghost of Criswell's past, Charles. People think they're seeing the late president Lincoln, but he never slept in here. Criswell did. President Nixon was a great fan of the psychic and had him here several times, so did the Reagans.

Manly: Pssst! He's right Charlie, I know these things. You need to come in here for some more coke-sniffing, I can sense Rahm Emanuel coming.

Rahm Emanuel: OK, where's the coke and a taint to sniff it off of? Hahahaha! I kid--or do I? Mr. President, I know Charlie well from Hollywood--quite the "ladies man," although I never pay for it, I just take what I want, when I want. Know what I mean?

CS: That I do! Mr. President--about Sibel Edmonds.

BO: Yes? She gave some testimony under oath recently, in August. What does that have to do with 9/11?

CS: OK, she's talked about a lot of subjects...oh fuck it, let's go snort some coke, won't we?

RE: You're the man! Let's hit that shit! No broads, though? Well shit, Charlie, you're losing it, man. I'd order out, but the heat's on with that shit. Some of these fuck-head prosecutors actually do their jobs around the beltway, we can't be too careful. In Chicago? No problem. You see, these Republicans are too stupid to cover their tracks, so ordering out for ass is just out. Surely you could have brought some groupies, some chicks from L.A.

Shit, who cares? There are plenty of interns to fuck around here. Besides, your fuckin' father might pull another one of his legendary "interventions" on you, and we wouldn't want that, would we? We need your ass at Alex Jones's site to bad-jacket real information that makes us and the last brew culpable for...hahahaha, we won't go into it, you're too fuckin' dumb to understand anyway. [slaps me on the back soundly]

(Incredibly loud sounds of snorting emanate from the Lincoln bathroom for several minutes. I, and Mr. Emanuel emerge with cocaine peppering our respective upper-lips)

RE: Good shit Charles, we'll have to hook-you-up some time with the good shit from Chiquita, from our friends to the North in Colombia! [slaps Sheen on the back so hard he hits the floor]

CS: GASP! So, where were we Mr. President?

BO: Charles, it appears that we're running short on time, I have a country to run, kinda like a 7/11. Someone has to be manning the controls at all times. You want a Big Gulp? Hahahaha! Ahhh, you "righties" and your endless stream of non-sequiturs--but we need people like you. Who else is going to distract the rest of the country when hardly anyone buys newspapers or trusts the mainstream media anymore? I cannot even rely on it for factual information anymore, and neither can investors on Wall Street, or even foreign investors, the only thing keeping this house of cards afloat these days.

CS: Thanks--I guess--Mr. President. You sure you don't want a bump?

BO: Hahahaha, very tempting Charles, but like I said, I have a country to run, bullets to dodge, and many promises left to break. I have my work cut-out for me.

CS: Mr. President, are you trying to stonewall me and the readership of...shit, what's the name of it?

BO and RE: It's "infopwarsh," get it right.

Criswell: What's "eleventy-twelve" mean?

BO: Freedom.

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Comments

Texas Terrorist: Man, Charlie! You are true patriot, not one them socialest sissies!

LargeMardge: Spare any of that coke?

Non-sequitur Party of the Right: Man, why didn't he shoot that nigger-varmit? I was in Nam, man, I was there! What the hell is this shit about eleventy-twelve anyway, what the fuck is that--"niggerease"?

Tard Steve: I cant reat any o tis. Wil sumwun reat it 4 me.

Ted Nugent's Illegitimate Children: You tell that nigger a what for! Barack HUSSEIN O-bam-a! Yer wang dang doodlin' my country right into the ground, fucker! ...OK, my shrink has told me I need help, a lot of help and copious amounts of anti-depressants. The problem is, I don't do drugs of any kind. What do I do? Rush? Judy? Someone, turn on a spotlight now, I'm feeling randy, and he's getting pissed!

Jaenelle Antas: Springtime for Hitler? Germany? Anyone?

Bladderwarts: Clearly, the WTC could not have been taken down by human technology. This was a job by "greys," aliens. We must stop illegal aliens!!

"Nirvana members dismayed by 'Guitar Hero 5' "

WWW--You know...who gives a shit? He shot himself (or at least that's the story) with a shotgun sixteen years ago because, ultimately, he was a loser, Kurt Cobain. I loved a lot of his songwriting, but if you want to stop being a star, being famous, there are plenty of ways out, and he had the imagination to do it too.

Many careers in entertainment have been sabotaged, take your pick. It's funny: I recall hearing their first album before the hype and just thought they were so-so, just OK, nothing extraordinary. Did I mention that I hate Seattle and its weather and all the rich assholes that populate what was once a blue collar town? I'd do heroin too.

But seriously--so you can "unlock" the avatar of Cobain and have him play other people's songs? Great! Kurt Cobain doing Bob Seger or Ted Nugent songs seems fitting to me since all of them were the death of rock as a mass movement phenomena anyway. Cobain was just that final gurgle, now it's a microcosmic affair when it's real, generally emanating out of garages in crumbling suburbia, less and less a sad spin-off of the American dream. Who cares? The believers, the fanatics, also known as "fans," the etymological source of the term.

And considering that Cobain's estate signed-off on the deal that Activision could use Nirvana songs and his image as an avatar--well, you do the math, they did. I'm doing the math too and finding that the surviving members of Nirvana strike me as disingenuous, and that's being nice, but I guess they're entitled. With Courtney Love...forget about it. As usual, she's the loud-mouthed tramp she always was, a washed-up starfucker and a nut, and these claims that she's going to "sue" Activision just sound good, they make good copy. She's ugly in every way and her music was never good, ever, not even for a moment.

And while I'm on the subject of Cobain being dead, why not take a casual look at the suicide? I have to wonder if Alex Constantine is saying he was murdered by the government since that also sounds good and makes good copy for the terminally stoned and paranoid. But no, I don't think Cobain was murdered by anyone at all, he was simply a loser. What I believe happened is that his dirty wife was his drug enabler; he was hiding from her as much as he could to kick; she found him; they shot-up together, "for old time's sake," and he died on her of an overdose. You do the math, my take.

Frankly, when someone's totally fucked up their life as he did, having an avatar of you singing Bon Jovi songs is an afterthought that cannot compare to the original disaster. Nobody had to remind me what a pathetic and embarrassing decade the 1990s were, it was. Jimi Hendrix is on one of the games. You can unlock all of the avatars. Get over it. As many others have astutely pointed-out, Cobain left behind a child and he was therefore selfish and dishonorable. Now he's part of the "too stupid to make it to thirty" club. Courtney apparently feels the same way but now just wants to save face with her stupid, feigned drama over this non-issue.

She authorized it, the surviving members of the band did not, they lost a lawsuit against her years ago and had no control over it, she did. At least their dismay is sincere. Face it: rock as a mass movement that's real has been dead for decades, over a generation. Now it has a video game. Long live music, rock is a corpse that's been humped dry. God knows the boomers have talked about themselves to the point that nobody gives a shit anymore.

Guns don't kill people, Part I...

Guns don't kill people...

..., Phil Spector kills people.

..., morons who should never own a gun kill people.

...., people who say "Guns don't kill people," kill people.

..., a loaded gun pointed at a person and discharged at them, kills people.

..., an ignorant redneck pointing a gun accidentally kills people.

..., Libertarians who should never own a gun, kill people.

..., a pathological version of penis envy (in men) kills people.

..., gun and ammunition companies that sell guns to fools, kill people.

..., children with their parents' guns, kill people.

..., white supremacists who should never be allowed to own an air rifle, kill people.

..., mentally-ill people with the God-given right to own an assault rifle, kill people.

..., God created people, and therefore, guns, so God kills people and must be evil on weekends.

..., but my .50 belt-fed machine-gun is good for hunting deer.

..., a bad political culture fed by the ignorant coward, kills people.

..., but Ted Nugent kills animals, and thankfully, isn't allowed to kill people.

..., but America is very good at killing people to turn a buck.

..., a projectile going faster than the speed of sound crashing into a human trunk or brain-pan, kills people, usually for no logical reason whatsoever.

Sgt. Rock demoted in Waco, Texas

Waco, Texas--Ted Nugent...where to begin, where to begin? Mmm-hmm. The Waco Tribune fired Nugent this last week for being Ted Nugent, an unsurprising outcome to everyone except Ted Nugent, for whom life is a constant surprise! Wheeeeeee!!! Yes, the rifts in the right are still very much alive it seems, at least outside of Congress, the domains of the D.C. lobbying cesspools, and the corporate boardrooms where they're finding it difficult to wipe these days.

The Waco Tribune was taken over by a new owner and they wanted Nugent to "tone it down" in his "Teditorial" columns covering home cooking and finery, a reasonable request considering what flows from his mouth and pen, never mind the rest. Ted got angry and threw a fit, but never had the anatomical manhood (pride) to talk face-to-face with his new editor. Once again, Ted's painting himself as some kind of comic book hero, another casualty of believing one's own press from over thirty years ago. How do I put this? Where to begin?

OK, first: Nugent got as many draft deferrments as he could during the Vietnam War, not unlike Dick Cheney, George W. Bush, Dan Quayle, or even Karl Rove. This makes this "reply"to the Waco Tribune's new editor, Carlos Sanchez, all the more galling:

...When the Nazis had the Americans surrounded in the town of Bastogne, they demanded American General McAuliffe surrender or they would level the city. General McAuliffe’s reply: Nuts!

The new editor of the Waco Trib recently told me that I could only write nice things about people, that I could not be critical. Basically, that I need to tone it down. I can not, nor will not, comply with this Romper Room request. My reply: Nuts!... ("The Nuge vs. The Waco Trib," Evan Smith/Ted Nugent, 08.16.2009)

He seems to have fixation on "nuts," probably implying that he has none. I had a great-uncle who was at Bastogne, by the way. He was in the 101st Airborne and literally had to fight his way out of Remagen in hand-to-hand combat with members of the Waffen-SS and Wermacht--all crack troops--with a knife. He was briefed by the OSS before going into Western Europe over a distant Slovak relative in their branch of the Waffen-SS, but that's another story for another time. But that was a real war fought by real men for the most part. Ted, being your typical Midwestern redneck doesn't know his history from his ass, and him invoking those kinds of stories had better know them well and have a damned good reason to do so. He does not. But we learned one very important message from all of this: one of Ted's favorite shows is Romper Room. And speaking of kids...

Second: he has oodles of illegitimate kids all over North America, and yes, he's that kind of deadbeat you're assuming he is right now. Reference that with his moronic and Libertarian-style economics and social policy opinions, and his hypocrisy takes on an almost aristocratic air, the bad kind.

Third: he stole at least half of his style from the hard left MC5, originators of the real "Detroit sound." Even "the Nuge" himself has admitted witnessing them back in the day and being scared shitless by them. The one thing he really copped from them was the sheer volume, dynamics, and intensity of Wayne Kramer's and Fred Smith's sound, and he wasn't alone; even Funkadelic did. Fine, whatever, but don't lie and tell me "I blew Hendrix off the stage in 1970, he was washed-up by then from the drugs, man," because we all know that story is bullshit you loud-mouthed asswipe. Frankly, I think he meant "I blew Jimi."

Fourth: Ted--are you perhaps the finest example of the North American male tendency for overcompensation, trying to prove to us all that "you're a man," when clearly you are not? Your invoking of the Nazis was nowhere to be seen under the last president, and yes, Obama is barely any different, except that he's black. That's your real problem, you thicko, you moron.

Fifth: We all know that all of this high talk of insurrection and secession isn't going to go anywhere and that nothing will come of it. Being a natural coward, you won't be on any battlefields. You'll be hightailing it like the yellow-bellied adolescent you are today.

Keep being Ted, and stay out of Edwardsburg! They say hobbyists are already reenacting the Vietnam War. Someone should tell the president, and you, Ted, that none of that was necessary with Afghanistan and Iraq, two more unwinnable wars to declare victory over in the our endless game of military adventurism and mindless stupidity.

"The Nuge vs. The Waco Trib," Evan Smith/Ted Nugent, 08.16.2009: http://www.texasmonthly.com/blogs/stateofmine/?p=1647

Make some Romper Room for my main man: http://www.tvparty.com/lostromper.html