Letter to Bush Family to Adopt me - by Scott Mahler

Dear Bush Family:

My name is Scott Mahler, and I want your family to adopt me. There's nothing wrong with my current one, they're great -- lots of good times, etc. -- but it's time to move onward and upward. In fact, they're all Republicans (had to be in order to be in my later Grandmother's will), so they not only understand but encourage this move. Here are some of their comments:

Personally, I think I would fit right in with your family. I come from a middle middle-class background, so I already fear and hate the poor -- all their whining makes my ears bleed. They complain and complain about not having enough money, no affordable health care, blah, blah, blah. Well, I say -- "In stead of watching 'Cheaters' every night, go out and get a third job." One thing I can't stand is a lazy freeloader -- it's simply un-American. Plus, they smell like cheap polyester and fried baloney -- not an appealing potpourri.

Another thing we have in common is our dislike of the French -- although I was born on Bastille Day (July 14th -- oh, the irony). Their art, culture, food, wine, and condescending attitude make me want to puke! Who do they think they are? And I never trust anyone in a beret. If I were ever to ascend to the presidency (and I'd be a shoe-in being a Bush), I would advocate unprovoked attacks against them -- they would never cross us again!

If you were to adopt me, I would of course have to learn how to shoot a gun -- I've wanted to do that anyway. Perhaps I could go to the firing range with Charlton Heston. We could blast big clay targets that look like the Ten Commandments out of the sky -- very Hunter S. Thompson. Not that I condone his drug-riddled lifestyle -- the only drugs that people should be using are the ones put out by large pharmaceutical companies.

I'm sure you guys could show me all kinds of neat stuff, like how to take out bullies. No one really terrorizes me anymore (I am thirty-four now), but there are some people that I think need a swift kick in the butt -- and you don't need U.N. approval for that. Perhaps George Sr. could show me some CIA hand-to-hand combat moves -- that would be cool. And after I smite the evil-doers, I could say it was all part of God's plan -- look it up in Revelation. I would also be more than glad to help you with other family members. For instance, I don't drink anymore, (well, rarely -- okay, often), but I would be Barbara & Jenna's "Sober Skipper". I could go bar hopping with them and weed out the losers that hit on them -- believe me, I know the eyes of a date rapist who intends to slip them a Ruffie. They won't be in any tabloids on my watch -- that's my guarantee.

I could go back to get my MBA at an Ivy League school, and then have you set me up in business -- all without really trying. I would like to have my very own Ohio-based minor league baseball team called the Midwestern Automatons. It shouldn't be too hard getting fan support -- I'm a Bush now. And if it fails, not to worry -- I know you would bail me out and set me up in another business -- how about oil? It seems like there is money in that.

There is one problem, however: I voted for John Kerry in this last election. Not to worry though -- I'm sure all I'll have to do is bribe a few local election officials to change my vote. Perhaps Jeb can show me how to do that -- it's only one vote in a small town on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, not an entire district in Florida. I really hope you consider adopting me. All of you seem so functional, like a dishwasher or vacuum cleaner. I picture myself going to McDonalds for dinner and ice cream with George Sr. and Barbara in a Range Rover, and then eating it with a big silver spork. We could Super Size everything -- that's the American way.