I was live on air wrapping up my radio show Friday afternoon when I caught the image of Bill Clinton standing behind the presidential podium, in front of the presidential seal. Realizing that Clinton looked much older than for this to be a clip from the 90s, I slid my headphones off right when we cut to break and exclaimed to my news guy, Church, “Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot?”

“Yeah. He’s giving the presser.”

I’m not sure what was more disturbing: That President Obama jumped ship in the middle of a contentious tax cut battle, leaving Bill Clinton in his stead to assume the duty or that our media didn’t flinch and continued with the questions.

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ARF!

Bo here, the conservative dog in the White House. I’m in the Oval Office with Barry and the boys while they decide on a strategy for the State of the Union speech. They can’t make up their minds. Big surprise, huh?

It’s been quite a week here since the Massachusetts senate race, all of them whining and moaning like a litter of pitbulls finding out they’ve just been sold to Michael Vick. Barry, of course, has been hardest hit. A retiree in Pompano Beach, Florida, gets bit by a sand flea, and Barry is hardest hit.

Still, the Scott Brown victory was a genuine blow to the faithful. Barry thrives on self-delusion, so the team here firehoses him with flattery non-stop. The One. The Lightbringer. Captain Smooth. Except for Rahm, the only guy who can tell Barry the truth. The only one who actually enjoys telling Barry the truth. Teleprompter Jesus. President Fist Bump. Harry Reid’s Immaculate Negro. Barry doesn’t appreciate it, but Rahm doesn’t care. Anyway, Scott Brown’s election really shook the place up. I was there. I smelt the fear…

“Now what?” Barry kept saying as he flipped through the channels looking for good news. “Now what?”

On CNBC, Norah O’Donnell woodenly read the latest vote tallies, mascara running down her cheeks like Chuckie the killer klown. Keith Olbermann was in the background, loudly vomiting into a waste basket. (more…)