Wednesday, April 05, 2006

It's All True

The problem with being on Letter to America is that there is a tendency for the layperson to think that Jett and I make shit up.

We don't.

Every nuance, every intonation, every syllable is simply dripping with God's Own Truth. And, if I may be blunt for a moment, it kinda ticks me off when people think otherwise. Regardless, I've received a virtual mountain of emails asking me to back up my recent story about the the Clinton/Presidential Suite. If you haven't listened to the podcast do so NOW...I'll wait. Are you finished? Good.

Anyway, I remember it like this...(insert your own mental BWOOP BWOOP BWOOP! or WEENAH WEENAH WEENAH! music that indicates that someone is telling you a story in flashback... Wow! That's what it sounds like in your head? Oh, well...whatever...)

I was minding my own business with my co-worker Allyson one day in the Europa. Belfast isn't exactly known as a "Hotspot" for international movers and shakers (though the occasional stoned pizza delivery boy does stop by and stare at the floral arrangements on the desk) so we certainly weren't expecting what was about to happen.

OH SHIT!

It's former President Clinton and he's demanding that he sleep the night away in the uber comfy Presidential Suite! But somebody else, somebody very important with steely gray hair and an enigmatic smile has already moved in! I tried to explain but it was for nothing.

"I don't give a good gal-darn who's in the Presidential Suite," he said. "I'm the former president of the United States of America (Hock! Spit!)! And what I says goes."

"I'm sorry Mr. Former President," I said, "I just can't go and kick this worldwide celebrity out on his tooshy. It just wouldn't be right!"

"Fuck 'right' I'm Bill Clinton."

Well, what could I do? I walked slowly up the stairs, breathing deeply and collecting my thoughts.

"This ain't gonna be easy, but how do you say 'No' to The Man?"

I knocked on the door...

"Hello? Are you in there? I was just wondering if, by chance, I mean ya don't have-ta or nothin' but would you mind giving up your room for the President of the United States?"

"Who's there?" Elliot Gould shouted. "Which President? Bush? Reagan? Nixon?"

"Um...no sir. Someone just as popular and savvy, however. Do you remember President Bill Clinton?"

"Clinton! Did you say CLINTON??!! That bastard slept with my ex-wife of almost 20 years ago. You might know her better as Barbara Striesand, International Songbird! As far as I know she was the love of my life and he bonked her like a bumper car at a cheap county fair! Tell him to go to the Days Inn across the road! Or better yet, Jett Loe says any weirdo stranger fan can sleep on his couch. Begone, insignificant bellhop! Begone, I say!

Well, what could I do? Nothing, is what. So I slunk down the stairs and told Clinton what happened.

"Oh yeah, Babs!" he said, "I did the Humpty Dance with her all night long. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

Bill was so nice about the whole situation he even agreed to take a crappy single room as long as I renamed it the "Clinton Suite" in his honor, which I did.

And it had nothing to do with his secret service men threatening me with large scary weapons.

And that's the true story of the Clinton Suite at the Europa.

Really.

(special thanks to Phil)

3 Comments:

Blogger Phil said...

To back up this story, it is widely known throughout the media that Hillary banned Streisand from the White House.

I believe every word of it.

1:16 am  
Blogger WOA said...

As well you should.

11:55 am  
Blogger Phil said...

And you are welcome for the historical photos of this event. We had to dig into our archives for these.

3:01 am  

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