George H. W. Bush: Yale Cheerleader, Disappointed Father, Spook

“I will never apologize for the United States — I don’t care what the facts are.”

George H. W. Bush, a man so dishonest and racist he even offended Roger Stone, is now spending the afterlife in a Bosch painting performing a ventriloquist act with Augusto Pinochet’s crow-emitting anus. 

The attending physician pronounced Mr. Bush dead after examining his body for a thousand points of rigor mortis.

Those at the scene recalled the former president’s final words as, ”Read my lips: no CPR.”

Totally bereft, son Jeb refused to accept the physician’s decision until he forced a feeding tube down his father’s throat.

Bush’s term as president was defined by his quick response to Saddam Hussein’s 1990 invasion of Kuwait when he assembled an impressive international coalition of 35 soldiers, two trucks and a rake.

In tribute to their father’s legacy, the Bush family requested Americans not remember any of the last 50 years.

To honor the deceased, President Trump called for a national day of mourning and closed Wall Street, a fitting tribute to the man whose son shut down the economy for 10 years.

Trump also decreed government agencies fly Old Glory at half-staff- as soon as he received a new shipment of flags from China. 

The 94 year-old Bush, who lived longer than any previous U.S. war criminal, is survived by his immediate loved-ones: a son named Marvin nobody talks about, MSNBC and CNN, FOX News, Oliver North, the Saudi royal family, and Ellen’s glass coffee table.

Bush requested his remains be grabbed by the ass after someone asks his corpse who his favorite magician is.

Oh, and Dan Quayle.

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Barbara Bush: A Nation Mourns And Eats Its Lunch

BUSHMy fellow Americans: Major combat operations in Barbara Bush have ended.
In the Battle of Life, time and a beef-heavy diet have prevailed.

And now our coalition of Earth’s natural elements is engaged in securing and deconstructing her cell structure. The tyrant has fallen. And Kennebunkport, Maine, is now free from her brooding presence at Mabel’s Clam Shack.

As Jesus once said: “No one can escape the relentless grab-ass of death.” And so, Barbara (Pierce) Bush, a First Lady whose main claim to fame was allowing two war criminals in and out of her bat-filled sniz, is now playing host to more beneficial parasites.

Known for bravely facing her many illnesses, Mrs. Bush once remarked, ”I have no fear of death because I know there is a great god,” -a motto later adopted by ISIS.

Close friends eulogized her as a “national treasure whose glaring frown could really light up the room.”

Upon hearing the news, Barack Obama declared her ankles “Too Big to Fail” in between giving speeches to hedge fund managers. Then he remembered he wasn’t president anymore.

Miss Barbara Pierce first met George Herbert Walker Bush in college and soon after they married. She later said George was the first man she ever kissed without reading his lips about no new taxes.

In 1946 their union brought forth a healthy baby boy, George Jr., inspiring her immortal words: “Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.”

But it wasn’t until she became First Lady that she took the world by storm with her Bess Truman charm and relentless grudge keeping.

Indeed, Mrs. Bush’s casual, down-to-earth manner soon earned her the label of “America’s grandmother” from those in the Bush administration. It’s not clear who they considered “America’s grandfather,” but I’m thinking maybe Joseph Goebbels.

Bereaved family members are consoling themselves with the thought that the deceased is now up in heaven getting confused for the Quaker Oats guy.

The deceased requested her remains be interred in the family fetus jar.

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(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)