Ohhhhh my achin' noggin! It sure was a tipsy weekend around Rove/Cheney '04 HQ (I don't know why everyone thinks it's so funny when I say that, but it got a giggle the first time I tongue-tripped and said it 'round the campaign office, and I guess it just stuck!)! I guess Miss Dr. Condi needed to blow off a little steam (Rovey said she's in the hot seat, so I guess even though I *keep* scolding him, he still thinks it's awfully funny to go and have a bare-bottomed sit-down in other people's office chairs after he's had lunch at Ben's Chili Bowl. Miss Dr. Condi is a very gracious lady for not reporting him to their boss!), so she invited a bunch of folks over for one of her famous White Chocolate Martini and Square Dance soirees. Well as you know, yours truly is certainly not one to ever miss a 'Ho-down, and especially not one featuring creamy cocktails to chug-a-lug, so Rovey and I spent the afternoon slaving over a man-sized tub of our masterful Condi Rice Pudding to share with the crop of staffers she'd invited. I was afraid that wasn't going to be enough, and while Rovey was off on an Oprah break, I started cutting up one of our spare area rugs, 'cause Rovey said that Miss Dr. Condi and her softball team pals enjoy munching on carpet, but when he came back in he giggled and said he thought the pudding would be quite enough. I said okay, but still made sure to pack along a bit of cardboard 'cause Rovey'd also mentioned she liked to lick a little box, and I sure wasn't going to show up empty handed!
Anyhow, when we got there, I was sort of disappointed to see that there were only a few cars in the driveway - our Gremlin, Mr. Cheney's ambulance, Reverend Ashcroft's Edsel, Mr. Rumsfeld's Black Hawk, and Mr. Colin's Ford Focus. I'd known that Rovey's boss wasn't going to be there because he'd just gotten up to Level 3 on Resident Evil for PS2 and everyone agreed that his time would be best spent on that, but I was at least hoping that my super-fun pal Ari would be there! He's a blast to hang out with, and he can dance around absolutely anything! And especially since it was supposed to be a square dance party, he would have been extra-helpful to have around because let me tell you - nobody spins like Ari! But still, I came in determined to have a good time. Not an easy task with that crowd. I tried to share a Do-Si-Do with Reverend Ashcroft, but he claimed that touching the exposed wrist skin of an unmarried female was tantamount to buying a one-way ticket on the Brimstone Express, and Mr. Cheney can only move within three feet of his defibrillator, so that was not much fun! Heck, it seemed as if all those grumpy Gingritches wanted to do was sit around and talk some panel Miss Dr. Condi was seeing later in the week. Boring! I tried to get into the conversation by telling everyone about the special soundproof paneling that Rovey and I installed in our basement Playroom, but no one seemed to care that much. Mr. Cheney offered me a handful of pretty-colored candy that he said was the reason for the wide, happy smiles on his wife's and Mrs. Laura's faces, and Miss Dr. Condi gave me a great big cocktail to wash it all down and then…oh what a rude little RoveHo I must have seemed! I vaguely remember giggling that my knees felt like Gummy Gergens and then the next thing I knew, I was home in the Playroom with no memory of how I got strapped into the Special Chair, how my shins and forehead got carpet-burned or who left me the spatula and Tupperware bowl with the leftover pudding. Maybe Miss Dr. Condi wanted to make me face some panel of my own, so I'd take her problems seriously - I don't know, but I'll swear under oath that I won't ever ignore that kind of intelligent information again! Golly, I feel bad. Maybe I'll send her some of the fish jerky Rovey and I just cured out in the shed. Rovey said she really likes eating tuna tacos, and it'll be just scrumptious once she moistens it up a little with a finger full of crema. Yum!