Laura Bush's Diary

February 14, 2016

So Jenna and Barb and I were sitting on the back porch sparking up a couple of splifs while we were watching the NBA All Star game festivities. We just love to watch muscular black men running around without a lot of clothing. Reminds me of my days working in the Peeps on the Deuce. Memories

Anyhoo just as we were all just getting nice and mellow we heard a crash and some loud obnoxious cursing coming from the Family room. It was W’s Mom. Again. She was always starting a freaking ruckus and smashing stuff. I don’t know why. I mean it wasn’t time for the wrestling yet so I don’t know why she was acting out. She always got real agitated when one of her favorites started to lose. Especially the midgets. Babs loved the midgets. 

"Jenna could you go into the house and see what is up with Gram’s?” “Oh Momma I can’t. I did it the last three times. Let Barb do it for once.” “On no..no…no” Barbara said as she rocked back and forth and twitched. I swear she gets more and more like the retarded sister on Downton Abby every day.

“Shitfire I guess I have to in to find out what’s up with the bug eyed twat.”

You see I have never seen eye to eye with Babs. She has always hated me ever since W brought me home to meet the family. She even tried to stop me from getting the “First Lady’s Traveling Underpants” but luckily Hillary gave them to me which is why we have always had a soft spot for her. Now Babs is getting meaner and meaner. Poppy Bush is getting feeble and it is impossible for him to keep her in check anymore. And now that her favorite Jebbie is running she is insufferable.

When I got to the family room I had to step over broken glass and spilled beer. It seems that she had been drinking PBR and watching a reply of last night’s debate and just lost her shit. She Elvised the TV by throwing a bottle through the screen. Perfect.

“So Babs what’s up?” I wanted to keep it light. “What do mean you idjit. Didn’t you watch the debate? That animal Trump is ripping poor Jeb a new asshole again. He even went after your husband saying he lied to get us into Iraq. Not that you care. You always liked Trump that Atlantic City asshole. Just like my idiot husband. You traitor.”

“Now Babs you know that is not true. W and I are fully behind his little bro. Way way behind but whatever. Here have a couple of these nice aspirins for your rheumatiz.” I gave her a couple of downers and she zoned right out. It was the only way to control her when she got like that. You had no idea what she might do. She bit a maid in Venezuela one time. Took her ear clean off. That was hard to cover up.

W walked in. “Oh no Laura. Is Mom acting out again?” “Yeah she is. I drugged her up. She was pissed about what the Donald said. She even mentioned Atlantic City. You better have your shit together if you are going to South Carolina. You know the Donald might bring up your Dad and that Don King thing.” “Crap. That damn Jeb always lands me in it.”

You see back in the day we were all good friends with the Donald. Both W and his Daddy liked to gamble a little. They would fly into Atlantic City for the fights or just for the weekend. Boy’s night out. I didn’t care. I trusted W. But it burned Bab’s ass. She was always bitching and moaning and crying whenever they went to AC. Now Poppy would bullshit her and tell her they were visiting Trump to collect the pay-offs for the Trilateral commission. But she knew that was bullshit.

Anyhoo this one time they flew in for a Tyson fight. I think he was fighting Alex Stewart in the Convention Center. Don King was promoting it and invited Poppy and W and the boys to check out the fights and stay at the Plaza. Of course Jeb tried to pussy out because Consuela wouldn’t let him out of her sight. But Poppy forced him to come. You see he wanted to make a man out of him.

When the boys get to AC the Donald had laid it all out for them. A suite at the Trump Plaza. Front row seats at the fight. Tickets to the after party. Which was always a hell of a party in those days when Tyson was unbeatable. He bitch slapped Stewart in one round and then the party started. Now Trump had just started screwing around with Marla Maples in those days. She was a hot young thing. She was at the party with a bunch of girls. Some actresses. Show girls. Cocktail waitresses. A hooker for Tyson to rape. You know. The usual suspects.

The unusual thing was that the Donald had invited Lola Falana. Now Poppy Bush was infatuated with her beyond all reason. He loved to watch her on Dean Martin and would rub one out when Babs wasn’t lookin’. So it was an extra special treat that she was there at the party. My old friend Joey Heatherton was there as well and W was catching up with her and talking about the old days. The problem was as it always is: Jeb.

You see Babs had called Jeb on his cellphone and wanted to know what was going on. Little did we know that she had flown into AC and was planning to surprise Poppy. She badgered Jeb and demanded to know where they were. He folded like a cheap suitcase. Even though Trump had invited Charo for him. He told his Mama the Room Number and everything. And of course she barged in.

Now it was quite the scene as W described it to me. Trump had Marla on his lap. And Poppy was getting a lap dance from Lola Falana. Don King was fingering Della Reese. Tyson was banging some video ho on the table and everyone else was cheering him on. That ended right quick. Old Babs waded in and went bat shit crazy. Hit Tyson over the head with a giant ashtray. Punched Marla Marples in the snoot. Pulled off Lola’s weave. Gave Poppy a shiner. It was a giant mess. It took forever for the Secret Service to break it up. And that wasn’t the worst part.

You see Babs is a vindictive old beyotch. As soon as she got home she dropped a dime to Ivana Trump. Called up and told her all about Marla. You see she had the FBI give her a copy of her file and sent it over to Ivana so she could use it in the divorce. There were photos and tapes and everything.  Donald never got over it. He has hated the Bushes ever since. Especially Jeb. The stoolie.

This is not going to end well.