The White House
Dear Human Fetus,
First of all, thanks for your votes! It was neat how Karl managed to sign up all you little guys in the final count.
I know y'all are probly not happy about that slip-up the other day, where I called you a human feces. I'm not sure what that is, but I think it's bad, so I'm sorry.
I'm just writing to let you know the great things I'm doing for ya. I'm here to let you know we're doin everything we can to make sure your mom goes to prison if she tries to do anything to ya. Don't worry, not your dad. He can water as many little seeds as he likes. Plus, he'll be going to Iraq, or maybe Cameroon in South America. They've got some oil, too, Condi says.
We've made it a great country fer ya. We're the boss of all the other countries, which means we are a real man.
Here's a few little rules to keep in mind as you git ready to birth yourself.
1. Make sure you git the right kind of family. If you're not
sure what's the right kind, just ask me.
2. Religion is important. Especially mine.
4. Listen to your father, your preacher, and me. Don't listen
to any scientists, teachers, historians, writers, or people who
don't speak English good.
We've got a great country where people have great health care, if they deserve it. A man can git as rich as he likes, with the right connections, naturally, and he won't have to worry about sharing a dime with the so-called poor. We got a pay-as-you-go deal; you can't pay, you go. These sniveling weenies who are afraid of guns and don't like killing animals and foreigners are gonna hafta shut up now. They're gonna see that true compassionate conservatism means taking care of you.
After you git borned, o' course, you're on your own.
Your uncle,
W.