“It takes only one drink to get me drunk. The trouble is, I can't remember if
it's the thirteenth or the fourteenth.” —George Burns
Obviously a chronic alcoholic, Snow kept jesturing to the press corps with his hand holding what apeared to be a double martini. The drink kept sloshing out, but it was apparent that he'd already had more than enough to produce the first truthful press conference in the last six years. Occassionaly he would pause to refill his glass from a pitcher beneath the podium, muttering something that sounded like, “Get off my lawn. Oh, these hands are so filthy.”
When he admitted that it was he who had leaked the classified report regarding the tracing of bank records of the terrorists, he broke into tears and announced he was resigning but to hang around as either Rush Limbaugh or Sean Hannity would be taking over as press secretary. “They’re both better men than I,” Snow choked. “Both great Americans.”
Thereupon, he produced some birch limbs and proceeded to flagelate himself wimpering, “Mea culpa, mea culpa, I'm not worthy. ” Then he appologized profusely some fifteen times, wet his pants and vomited on “OK, you,” in the corp’s front row.
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