Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts

Debt Ceiling Crisis Leaves Obama Smoking, Again

Washington, D.C. –

On a personal note, the debt-ceiling crisis has taken its toll on the health of the president lately, as he has taken up smoking again. It is reported that the First Lady, Michelle Obama, was the first to notice her husband’s relapse into his old nicotine habit, one which he had worked so hard to kick since he took office.

“I knew he went back to smoking,” said the First Lady. “He’d makeup some dumb excuse. Go outside, saying he needed some fresh air.”

Later, the First Lady picked out cigarette butts from her bed of flowers in the Rose Garden.

“At first, I don’t say anything to him,” said the First Lady. “Believing it’s really not my place. I mean so long as he doesn’t do it in front of the children, right?”

However, the First Lady expressed concerned that the president’s smoking was getting in the way of his job.

“He use to say smoking helped him relax, cleared his mind. So he could focus on the task at hand,” said the First Lady. “But I doubt that’s the case anymore.”

So the First Lady decided to confront the president with a handful of cigarette butts she found in the Rose Garden.

Only their meeting in the Oval Office was interrupted by a phone call from Speaker of the House Representatives, John Boehner.

“Honey,” said a confident and assertive First Lady. “I know you’re really busy with our nation on the verge of failing to meet it’s financial obligations for the first time ever, but I found these cigarette butts in the Rose Garden the other day. Now I understand you’re under tremendous pressure, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re using this debt ceiling crisis as some kind of smokescreen. Just so you can pick up smoking again.”

Just then John Boehner called, the president placing him on the speakerphone.

“Mr. President,” said a weeping John Boehner on the other end of the line. “For the love of God, please okay raising the debt ceiling. I don’t understand, we gave you everything you wanted weeks ago.”

After hearing John Boehner’s plea over the speakerphone, the First Lady looked down at the cigarette butts in her hand and then backup at the president with her mouth wide open.

From behind his desk, the president calmly reached into coat pocket, pulled out a cigarette and lit it up.

“I beg you, Mr. President,” continued pleading John Boehner. “There’s very little time left. Approve raising the debt ceiling and put an end to this godforsaken crisis.”

“Are we clear?” said the president to the First Lady as he drew on the cigarette, its glow lighting up his face.

The First Lady just nodded her head as she slowly backed out of the Oval Office, placing the cigarette butts in her skirt pocket.

John Boehner, still weeping over the speakerphone.

“Mr. President…” sobbed John Boehner. “Mr. President…”

Copyright © 2008-2011 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Beer Drinking, Chain Smoking Chimp Denies Addiction

Moscow, Russia --

Through his personal Russian sign language translator, Zhora the chimpanzee and former circus performer denies he has a drinking or rage problem, using hand gestures he was taught by his trainer before he was turned over to a zoo.

“I’ve been placed into rehab by my [BLEEP] zookeepers against my will, [hu] man,” said Zhora as he maintains that he is a recreational drinker and that he has a mild-mannered temperament.

“True I would on occasion ask the passer-by for a beer or smoke,” continued Zhora as he pulled out a clove cigarette, motioning the translator for a light. “But that was only because I’d always get carded at the liquor store.”

As the translator struck the matchstick on the black iron bars of the cage, Zhora began screaming uncontrollably at the flame on the tip.

Unmoved by the screaming, the translator continued to reach into the cage with the lit match. All the while the chimp was screaming, it motioned him to draw nearer.

As the translator held out the lit match at arms length, the chimp reluctantly approached, igniting the cigarette in its mouth. Still screaming in between puffs.

“Zhora engaged in a heated debate with the liquor store clerk,” said the translator as he too lit up a cigarette, joining the chimp in a relaxing smoke. “You know, I love this crazy monkey. He taught me how to drink deeply and live life. I’d do anything for him.”

After a five-minute break, Zhora and his translator continued explaining the incident that got the chimpanzee placed into rehab.

“‘Come on [hu] man’,” recounted Zhora through his translator, taking intermittent European style drags on the remainder of his cigarette, cupping the butt of it in the palm of his hand, while picking up the story right where he left off. “’You’re kidding me, right? You’re looking at a [BLEEP] chimp here! Do I look like I have a driver’s license to you? Even if I did, where would I put it [hu] man? Do you see any pockets on me? Or maybe, maybe you’re suggesting I get one, just so I can stick it up my [BLEEP]! Huh, is that it [hu] man? Hey, that’s an idea.”

Zhora was then placed under arrest for assault and battery, his rehab attendance a condition of his release.

“I’m so sorry I did that to that [hu] man,” said Zhora pacing his cage, flicking his spent cigarette to the floor. “I’m sorry…maybe they’re right about my having a rage problem. Maybe…the alcohol only makes it worse.”

As Zhora watches the rehab personnel walk by, he instinctively reverts to a primitive state. Grabbing the bars of his cage with one hand, he thrusts out the other in a begging posture.

Tears run down the translator’s face as he continues to interpret what Zhora is saying with his hands.

Suddenly Zhora stops motioning to the translator, instead he squats down in his cage relieving himself in his hand as he begins throwing the foul smelling contents at the rehab personnel for refusing to give him beer and smokes.

The translator rises to his feet, grabbing the bars of the cage.

For a moment, the translator just stares at Zhora, uncertain how to translate the chimp’s actions.

Eyes locked, the translator unbuckles his belt, drops his pants and squats down to the floor with one of his hands reaching behind him.

Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo