Condi 500

If You Must Ask by Condi Rice
Yes, that is a gap in my mouth. I call it a beauty mark; one that my Alabaman roots are more than proud to display. When I was a kid everyone would stare at me for my gap. They seemed to want to ask how I came by such a beauty mark. I would tell them, “practice, practice, practice”. And then they insisted I show them. The deed was done. A star was born; the savior to this Evangelical nation. In adulthood it persisted, as I always got this look when I was in public. I just wanted to yell hallelujah. All these dirty, old men fixed their faces in sheer glee. I just smirked and giggled. People love me and my gap. When I was at Denver I was heralded around campus, by my young Republican friends, as something special of the future. I would not go onto walking on water, turning fish into wine nor healing retards. I would be the one to widen the gap. And so I proceeded like the great Moses. My mark began to widen just like the Red Sea. Each time I moved on up, my teeth would spread a nanometer to each side. I was like the girl Pinocchio. Each time I strummed a guy’s guitar, my gap would widen.
So now you know why I’m at where I am at. We all gather round the in the oval office for sleepovers every so often, you know to plan mischievous doings around this merry globe we control. While George, Dick, Donny, Colin, Paul, Ari, Ashcroft, Ridge and the rest would hoot and holler, I’d spread peace throughout the lands (Colin was ticklish and that derelict resented that. He resigned (from me as well) after our miscarriage; the greatest baby born to this nation: Zeus). It was my mission: the Condi 500. I still haven’t gotten there, though I am practicing hard. See that’s why I pleaded to Mr. Bush to obtain Secretary of State. My main initiative was to spread peace, democracy and diplomacy. I talk to the world, although my jobs do all the talking (I can’t really talk to foreign leaders with there stuff in my mouth). I give them my word and I swallow. America will be there to take the bad with the good. We’ll take your mess in our face. That’s what I embody: an all American woman.
I do not like to discuss details since they are confidential (psst… Putin is always in the mood for peace talk (he’s always drinking vodka) so hit him on his Nextel when you want to talk peace). I enjoy my job to the fullest extent. I realized the work I was getting into long ago and I accepted it wholeheartedly. I just stopped by the Middle East the past few days. Things are getting grim. Nobody wants to talk to me over there. The Sunni’s are even shunning me. I am here to clear up the rumor that Mr. Ahmadinejad whispered to the Arab world. He said I gave Ariel Sharon chlamydia. I so did not. It was a mild case of herpes. And to you Mr. Chavez of Venezuela, I most certainly do not suffer from “sexual frustrations”. I would love spend a night talking peace with you in Caracas, serenading your buffoonish ears with the soothing sound my vacuum suction of a mouth. No more anti-Americanism people, more loving. Peace talks will flourish, leaders will fall head over heals after I pleasure them. They will be in such a euphoric la la land afterwards, they’ll willingly hand over their peoples lives to Americans. Ha, Ha, Ha. My mouth was made for sucking and that’s just what I’ll do. Don’t worry Americans, by my mouth I will make peace on Earth.