Brit Hume's interview of Dick Cheney on FOX about how he shot his lawyer friend, Harry Whittington, is going to be the non-event of the month. It's tape delayed so, even if Hume gets delusions of being a real journalist, anything interesting will be cut. This is what an honest interview would sound like.
Question: What happened?
Well, I was drunk out of my gourd and showing off for Pammy. I heard a rustle in the brush behind me, spun around, and nailed poor Whit.
Q: He was thirty yards away, right?
Pfft, where’d you get that shit. He was like fifteen, twenty feet. He was like, right there. Boom. You should have seen it.
Q: What did you do first?
I barfed. He was all bloody and moaning and Pam was screaming. Yea, I threw up, I’m not embarrassed. You want to know what bothered me? I’ve got this Secret Service, you know, they’re supposed to take care of me. Well, I’m barfing my guts out and they’re over there with Whit like I’m not even there. I’m going to write them up on that too, I tell ya. They shoulda been taking care of me. They’re gonna be in big trouble.
Q: You didn’t go to the hospital, you went to the ranch for supper. Why?
Didn’t you hear I threw up? It’s not like I was hurt or anything and I was hungry. Besides, I needed a couple of stiff drinks and then I needed to sober up. You can’t do that in a Texas hospital.
Q: What the worst thing about this?
The worst thing? I’ll tell ya, I asked the girls which one wanted to say she shot him, and they both refused. Can you believe that? What kind of loyalty is that anyhow? They said they were willing to lie for me, big woo, but they weren’t willing to take the rap for me.
Q: Thank you, Mr. Vice-President.
Yea, whatever.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
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