So, a lot of people ask me if I regret anything I did during my eight years in office. And the answer is, just one thing.
Now, I know some of you are thinking I'm going to say Iran Contra. And you're wrong, Not because I thought it was a good idea and am glad I did it, cause that's far from the truth. You'd be wrong because I didn't do it. Well, not intentionally anyway.
Back in those days, Casper Weinberger and I used to go on a four or five day bender every now and then. And before you judge me, let me tell you being cooped up in the White House with a bunch of tight-ass conservatives is like a prison sentence. Every now and then you need to cut loose.
So on about the third day, Cap started up for the 900th time about how those pussies in Congress wouldn't give him any money to buy guns for the rebels in Nicaragua. God, he could be such a nimrod - always like him to bring up work when we're shit-faced.
I was freaking tired of hearing it, so I said shit Cap, you've got more weapons than God - just give a few of them to the Contras. Cap said he would if they weren't so easily traced back to him.
So I said, "Well, sell some and give them the money. You know, on the sly, to someone who can't buy them on the open market. That way it'll be kept on the down-low and they'll have to pay five times the usual price. Shit, sell them to those fuckin' rag-heads in Iran. And make them release the Hezbollah hostages in Lebanon on top of it, hahahahaha!"
Well, of course I was kidding, and Cap and I had a good laugh over that. And that should have been the end of the story.
But no such luck. It turns out that numbskull, Ollie North, was hiding outside Cap's office and heard every word. Now, there are two things about North you might not know. One - he's a total moron. Okay, you might have figured that one out. But the other one, you probably haven't. Ollie had a total man-crush on Cap. He used to follow him around with moon-eyes like a puppy dog, hoping Cap would take him on as his body man, if you know what I mean.
So being a moron, and wanting badly to kiss Cap's ass, he hears us and thinks we're serious. And by the time we sober up, he's already well down the path of putting our drunken fantasy into action.
Well, what could I do? By the time I realized what was happening, Ollie had already violated the Constitution nine different ways. And of course I knew the dumb shit would get caught. What was I going to do - admit that the whole thing happened because I had a few too many shots of Jameson?
No, I couldn't do that. So instead I started faking Alzheimer's symptoms. It worked, but it played hell on my legacy.
And poor Cap was criminally prosecuted. Thank God that snobbish little WASP George Bush managed to squeak out one term and pardoned Cap. I was grateful for that - which leads me to my one regret. I still feel bad about all the times I sent him off to funerals on the other side of the world just so I could nail Barbara while he was gone. That was just wrong.
Like I said, don't judge me. At least I didn't go after a chubby little intern.
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