Skip to comments.CLINTON'S MEMOIRS (first sentence a problem)
Posted on 04/09/2003 10:39:37 AM PDT by Liz
William Jefferson Clinton will fetch a handsome $10 million plus to write his memoirs, but that's only if he completes the manuscript.
Already, we have inside information that he's struggling with the first sentence:
1st DRAFT: Once upon a time, on a girl called Hope ... (crumple, crumple)
2nd DRAFT: Once upon a time, in a town called Hope, I was looking for a place to dispose of Vince Foster's body when ... (crumple, crumple)
3rd DRAFT: Be honest. You know why you purchased this book. You want juicy details about the defining episode of my presidency. Well, you've come to the right place, because starting here, in Chapter One, I will reveal everything I know about my attempts to broker a lasting peace in Northern Ireland ... (crumple, crumple)
4th DRAFT: As I sit here in my Harlem office, smoking a fine cigar ... (crumple, crumple)
5th DRAFT: My close friend Lani Guinier ... (crumple, crumple)
6th DRAFT: My close friend George Stephanopoulos ... (crumple, crumple)
7th DRAFT: My close friend Webb Hubbell ... (crumple, crumple)
8th DRAFT: Are you an attractive female between the ages of 18 and 35 years old and looking to meet a well-connected gentleman friend? (crumple, crumple)
9th DRAFT: Monica. If you're reading this, please call. (crumple, crumple)
10th DRAFT: I still can't believe she kept the dress. (crumple, crumple)
11th DRAFT: Hey, Starr. How much did Knopf pay for your memoirs? In Your Face! (crumple, crumple)
12th DRAFT: Inhale? Shoot. I practically swallowed the whole bong. (crumple, crumple)
13th DRAFT: This is the story of great love affair between a dashing young president and his ruthlessly ambitious, withholding shrew of a wife. (crumple, crumple)
14th DRAFT: Ruth Bader Ginsberg makes me hot. (crumple, crumple)
15th DRAFT: It was a night to remember. Barbra Streisand was bouncing on the trampoline in the Lincoln Bedroom. Ted Kennedy was sprawled in the corner, drinking a 32-ounce Singapore Sling. I knew then we needed to bomb Iraq. (crumple, crumple)
16th DRAFT: I'm just going to dodge this draft. (crumple, crumple)
17th DRAFT: Economy good. The End. (crumple, crumple)
18th DRAFT: It's tough to write a memoir when you're not sure what the meaning of "was" was. (crumple, crumple)
19th DRAFT: Remember when I saved Haiti? Nobody ever talks about that. (crumple, crumple)
20th DRAFT: During the darkest days of my presidency, when my moral failings were exposed to the world, I sought spiritual counsel from the Rev. Jesse Jacks ... (crumple, crumple)
21st DRAFT: Pardon me for squandering my legacy. I pardoned everyone else. (crumple, crumple)
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"Call me Ishmael..." (crumple crumple)
But history, in the form of 9/11, caught up with the two lying connivers. They have to revise,
regroup and rewrite so as to make themselves look good in light of the devastation they've
wrought upon our nation.
"There I was, speaking on the phone with Congressman Hoyer about funding for current military operations, when of a sudden..."
Nope -- it was Linda and Markie.
Have you noticed how Klintoon rape victims were treated and how "that woman" was treated with all kinds of "deals" like payola for losing her fat A$$ (what happened?).
Am I the only one who doesn't believe that it was just "oral sex"? Like here is the certified rapist (when sees the woman) and here is the stupid emphatuated intern resorting only to "sucking" ? - RIGHT!
She had the dress, she had him by the balls, she agreed to keep qiet if properly rewarded. Where is the pack of "just" journalists (still chasing Lott)? Will Klintoons get away with EVERYTHING! Hitlery for President - that's all we need!
Freep & Roll!
Bill Clinton was born (a poor black child, named) William Jefferson Blythe III on August 19, 1946, in the small town of Hope, Arkansas. He was named after his (purported) father, William Jefferson Blythe II, who (like dozens of other Clinton associates) had been killed in a car accident just three months before his (evil) son was born. Needing to find a way to support herself and her new (evil) child, Bill Clinton's mother, Virginia Cassidy Blythe, moved to New Orleans, Louisiana, to study nursing. Bill Clinton (had his horns surgically removed and) stayed with his mother's parents in Hope. There he was surrounded by many relatives who (married each other and) gave him love and support and who played a significant role in his upbringing.
Bill Clinton's grandparents, Eldridge and Edith Cassidy, taught him (to not have) strong values and beliefs. They owned a small grocery store just outside of Hope, and despite the segregation laws of the time, (Bill's spinmeisters invented the story that) they allowed people of all races to purchase goods on credit. They taught their (evil) young grandson that everyone is created equal and that people should not be treated differently because of the color of their skin (although you should choose cabinet members not on their qualifications, but on their race and gender.) This was a lesson Bill Clinton never forgot (yet he couldn't remember getting sucked off by an intern).
His mother returned from New Orleans with her nursing degree in 1950, when her (evil) son was four years old. Later that same year, she married an automobile salesman named Roger Clinton (who soon realized that he was the stepfather to devil-spawn). When Bill Clinton was seven years old, (he spun his head around 360 degrees and) the family moved to Hot Springs, Arkansas. Known for its natural mineral hot springs, its scenic beauty, and its racetrack, Hot Springs was bigger than Hope and offered better (chicks and) employment opportunities. Roger received (oral sex from a hooker, and then landed) a higher paying job as a service manager for his brother's car dealer-ship and Virginia was able to find a better job (and accidently kill a guy) as a nurse anesthetist. In 1956. Bill Clinton's (dopey) half-brother, Roger Clinton, Jr., was born. When his (halfwit) brother was old enough to enter school, young Bill (killed a cat in a ritualistic offering to Satan and) had his last name legally changed from Blythe to Clinton (much to the chagrin of his stepfather)...
Nice dream to contemplate.....hope it comes true.
"Now let's talk about me for a minute..."
Clinton family portrait. That's young
Roger Clinton, left, with his parents.
"Tee hee. This is the real me. I'll
write about my multiple personalities."
"Dear Penthouse Forum,
I know that everyone always says it but you'll never believe the story that I am about to relate!
I was working in the office late one night when one of the college interns cozies up to me. I order a pizza (her favorite!) and..."
"I was born a poor black child."
When are you gonna do a centerfold on Playmates of Presidents Who Fooled Around?"
"Now let's talk about me for a minute..."
Check out this description (and my heckling) of Bubba's thrill at writing his autobiography:
[Q: Let me ask you about your book. Maybe you can do anything, but with respect it's hard to imagine you sitting in a room for hours at a stretch, pulling out your hair and writing. Can you actually write this book?]
Yes. [The "yes" was very quick a sharp. Then a pause and a shift to a more jovial and reflective tone.] But let me tell you how I'm doing it.
You know, I was scared to death I wouldn't be able to do it. So we had this old barn at the house, a hundred-year-old barn. And I converted it into an office. There was a little apartment in the back, so I made it a little bigger and converted it into an office. And in this office I have all my Native American pottery and stuff I've been collecting for thirty years. And my photo albums from the White House, the kind of non-right-wing-kook books about the Administration[Ah, those must be the boot licking toadies and lapdog books.], a whole collection of other people's memoirs, my tapes of the White House years, increasingly tapes I've done with Ted Widmer for oral history. [Widmer was a White House speechwriter and now teaches at Washington College in Maryland.] And then I have out in the garage all these boxes of stuff. I've got my grade school band programs. I've got every letter I wrote to my mother in college and every letter she wrote to me. I organize this stuff, I bring the boxes in, I sit down and make an outline. I read what I've got in the oral history. And I sit and I write in a notebook.
I have a notebook, and I write it all. I got the most done in August when I didn't have anything else to do.[I guess that the foundation he spends 'half' his time with must have been on vacation] But when I get free days, book days, I go out there and I sit at a glass table, and I sit there and I write. I do get some work done on the road. I make outlines of how I want to write the next section. I started out with an outline I made well over a year ago that I've pretty much stuck to. But it has been difficult. It's been frustrating. I haven't gotten the time. When I get a little bit behind... I'm more or less on schedule for where I'm supposed to be to be finished next June. So it can come out around Thanksgiving. I want to have it come out at the holiday season.
Some of this has been painful for me, but it's all been wildly instructive. And it convinced me that nearly every person over fifty should try to find a time to sit down and engage in the same exercise, even if you never intend to publish anything. You need to think about what really meant something to you. Who did you really love. Who really made you what you are. What the seminal events did. And also it's an incredible discipline. Because I found it shocking to me what I remember and what I don't. [Dont' worry, Bubba, some of us will never be able to forget what you did to this nation.] It's shocking to me what I can remember factually and how hard it is for me to be absolutely sure about how I felt at the time. You know[An accomplished author and a Rhode scholar should really try to avoid phrases like "you know"], how did I feel when I was 16?[Bubba this really shouldn't be so hard, you are a perpetual adolescent. Grow up.] I don't really know. Because I have some letters and other things it's a little easier to kind of return to those days. I've got an amazing amount of stuff in my pre-public life, and I'm working through it.
But so far I've had the time of my life. [Of course this is the time of your life. You're spending it obsessing over the person you love the most in your life, yourself]You know, this is scary. And you know it's frightening to write a book. Even if you've been totally honest, and think the book is you, what if people don't like it? [Yeah, tell me about it.] You can't make 'em buy a book. You know, what was that line from The Producers - Sometimes they won't come and you can't make 'em; [Clinton laughs heartily]
The link also explains its origins.
We shall see.
It was the worst of days, it was the uh worst of days...(crumple, crumple)