Rec and Sports

How Nancy Pelosi Could Become President

Last night I was totally engrossed int the Georgetown-Syracuse basketball game when the old lady butts in to ask about the presidential line of succession. Now this is normally something I don’t get involved in when a Big East game of this magnitude is going on. Luckily for her, halftime was coming up in 43 seconds, and Georgetown was up by a substantial margin.

I certainly don’t have a clue what brought this “I have to know” discussion, what I know is, I’m gonna be stuck answering her questions for a while.

First, what is the line of succession if something happens to the President?

Obviously, the first in line would be the the Vice President, Joe Biden, next would be (yikes) Nancy Pelosi the Speaker of the House, then next to Pelosi is the (mentally incompetent) Senate President Pro Tempore, Robert Byrd, followed by the Secretary of State Miss Hillary Clinton. I could go on and on, but this presumption is really frightening in and of itself.

Apparently there was a rumor that something BIG was going to happen during the Inaugural day, and it seems to have spread so quickly where my wife works. And it’s gotten all the people curious who’s gonna replace or take over if something BIG happened.

I did my best to convince the old lady that nothing such as this was going to happen, and she seemed comforted anyhow. After all, the event would have a security surveillance camera to keep things safe.

A little later, she came back to me with another question, What if this something BIG happened and everybody in the line of succession is at the event, who will take over?

Well, I don’t know, and certainly don’t want to think about it, but I’m reasonably confident we could work it out quickly, and respond by taking out whole sections of the Middle East with some weapons the other side doesn’t even know exist.

(Oh…I forgot about diplomacy)

Well…as Ronnie Raygun used to say…when no one could hear, “The only thing to negotiate is the funeral.”

And as I told you yersterday, I’ll be sitting, or laying, in the sun, contemplating my bellybutton, when the Inauguration happens. I’m going to miss Beyonce, The Jonas Brothers, Bruce Springsteen, P Diddymous, and the Queen of Soul, Aretha, (2000 pound bomb), Franklin. And Oprah, and Scarlet, (Penpal) Johansson.

No. I’ll have my headphoness on, and I’ll be listening to Ludwig Van. I downloaded just about everything recorded from the Lud V catalog, and when I run out of that I’ll switch to the Chairman of the Board, Old Blue eyes.

And that’s before I get to the greatest of all time, Tonny Bennett. You can’t just listen to Bennett’s music and not be in a good mood.

Anyway, the old lady seemed finally persuaded that no one’s gonna set off a nuclear bomb on the Inaugration on the 20th, and I gladly went back to watching the Georgetown crushing the Syracuse Orangemen.

If you can’t protect yourself next week by going way south and working on tanning all your fat molecules, you might check out the stun master telescopic stun baton, which gives you the power to be Obi Wan Kenobi, or Boris Badanov, depending on your own imagination. There isn’t any imagining for the mook you use it on though. They’re going to ride the lightning all the way to hell, or Pottawannamee County, as my Uncle Jack used to say.

Uncle Jack used to say “If you won’t shut up, I’m gonna kick your silly ass all the way to Pottawannamee County!” He doesnt say much here lately, he’s so preoccupied telling stories to a rhapsodic audience upstairs.