Dick Cheney In My Time: A Personal and Political Memoir

Dick Cheney here, so listen up you America hating ass clowns.

I have a new book out today, and that free-thinking bastard Matt-Man, has graciously offered me this venue in order to pimp out my sure to be best selling tome:

Dick Cheney In My Time: A Personal and Political Memoir

Let me tell you right now, you pussinistas, when people inside the beltway read this, heads will explode like a camel jockey’s ass being hit by a goddamn RPG.

My book is full of international intrigue, insight on secret, high level strategy sessions, and tiny, tiny tears being shed by Crybaby Condi. 

Jesus Christ, that chick has some fucked up teeth. They look like they were put in by some drunk bastard operating a pile driver.

Anyway…

This book is not for the faint of heart, so I guess I won’t be able to read it. But I wrote the son of a bitch and that’s all that matters.

I talk about things like the joys of water boarding, my close, homoerotic relationship with Don “Big Missile” Rumsfeld, and my consternation over playing second fiddle to an Ivy League educated dumb ass from Texas.

Bush always held that over my head. He’d say to me:

“Hey Dick, what year did you graduate from Yale? Oh that’s right…you couldn’t cut it there…could ya, Pork Chop Boy!!?”

George also found it funny when I’d get all worked up because he had hidden my goddamn Jack Link’s Beef Jerky. Whenever he would do that, the dumb ass would laugh, and call me Sasquatch…Listen, there are two rules I live by.

Number One…never participate in a land war in Asia, and number two?

Never fuck with a man’s goddamn, Jack Link’s Beef Jerky!!

I also write about my personal life in this book. My love for my wife of 47 years, Lynne, and the two visits that I made to her vagina that produced two wonderful children.

Our oldest daughter Liz, or as I call her, My Fifth Deferment, followed in my footsteps as an operative in campaign management and as an expert in Near Eastern affairs within the State Department.

Our youngest daughter Mary, or as I call her, The Son I Never Had, has traveled a different path. While her careers in public relations and public policy somewhat mirror my work, unlike me, my little Mary really digs the ladies.

So there you have it. It’s a great book. I wrote it. So please buy it. And when I say, “Please buy it.” I really mean, “Buy it or else, you commie, pinko faggots…sorry Mary.”

Now before I go, I just want to ask…

Where in the hell did that Rose drinkin’ son of a bitch, Matt-Man, hide my goddamn Jack Link’s Beef Jerky!!?

Sincerely,