So Long, Joe: Barack Obama Raps On The Joe He Knew Prior to Mental Decline
* As Joe fades into oblivion, Kamala Harris and Barack Obama prepare for Barack's fourth term in office, sans Joe, via K.
As Joe fades into oblivion, Kamala Harris and Barack Obama prepare for Barack’s fourth term in office, sans Joe, via K.
There was a time when I knew Joe – or at least I thought I did. What remains of my former VP and this nation’s POTUS strikes me as a mystery.
But hey – I’m not complaining.
To commemorate the good times with Joe, I’m writing a book…to be released just as soon as Joe is dead.
Let me give you some of the hightlights.
On my conversations with Joe
“There was a time back sometime when you could have a pretty decent, I wouldn’t say stimulating, but decent conversation with Joe. He had this way about him. Always smirking, always giggling. A lot of chatter, you could say. He would say the darnedest things. There was no telling what he was going to say next. That’s what we loved about him. I was always send out the message through the grapevine, “He says whatever, just let it be, that’s Joe, we know Joe,” and guess what? It worked.
On Joe the VP
“As Veep he loved a good story. Sometimes he would take over the cabinet meetings with his recountings of the good old days in Delaware. None of us knew anything about Delaware, but we admired him for his love of that state and the way he was able to hold political power for so long. My belief is that about ninety percent of what he said was false. The other twenty or so percent had some roots in Ireland.
On Joe’s recognition of Me
“It’s a sad day in America when a great American like Joe Biden no longer recognizes who you are. I like to say hi to him now and again. But he calls me “the negro.” And that’s fine, we’re cool, I can dig it. He’s Joe. We all know Joe. He used to call me that for sport. Now I think he means it. But, look, he’s not like Rush Limbaugh, in that he can’t help himself.
Here’s a final excerpt from The Joe I Knew that sums up what I saw and knew of Joe Biden.
When I say I knew Joe, I’m talking out of necessity in the past tense. The Joe I knew is gone. And I don’t just mean that he’s dead. I mean there was a time, a few years ago, when I saw his mental acumen slipping. The quick wit, outlandish gaffs, and smart ass smirk were now replaced by a confused expression, mumbles, and gaffs that were no longer funny. I felt somewhat saddened by this new Joe, a Joe I had never met.
When I say saddened, what I mean is, I realized, when I first heard his diagnosis, that now was the time for Joe to be most useful to me in my bid for a third term.
With Joe’s mental state in question, he was more pliable, would be even less inclined to moral scruples than before. Hell, he wouldn’t even know what was going on. And that would give him a kind of deniability. We would be working hand in hand, as it were, along with several other members of my Phantom Cabinet. This was a new day—for Joe, for me, and for America.
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