Didn't want ol' Scooter to feel all hurt, and in a moment of weakness, reveal that the only reason we found Saddam Hussein in that there spider hole was because Donald Rumsfeld called him on his personal cell, and our soldiers followed Saddam's "Baby Come Back" Chicago ringtone. And luckily for Scooter, he's not some piss-poor, ignorant colored fella who got sent to Texas' death row for selling some of that lousy non-powdered cocaine. In that case, I'd have fried his ass.
You know, y'all in the press should have a little sympathy for me. The Democrats bitch and moan about how I perverted justice by sidestepping a turncoat prosecutor and judge my very own peeps nominated, while overturning a jury's verdict. They accuse me of subverting the rule of law, by holding my pals to different standards than the chump suckers who actually pay their fair share of federal taxes. Meanwhile, I got conservatives 'bout ready to floss my nutsack with barb wire because I didn't give Scoot a full pardon, buy him a yacht, and milk his prostrate. Can't win! No sir.
It seems that many in Washington are sharpening their fangs, and are positively giddy that my Administration seems weak. They assume I'm sitting in the Oval Office, biting my nails and weeping like some Iraqistan widow covered in the bloody clumps of her former husband. But nothing could be farther from the truth. In fact, I feel liberated! Liberated from scruples. Liberated from cumbersome conservative ideology. Liberated from all the totally faggy "love your brother" parts of the Bible. Y'see, what y'all got now is George W. Bush UNPLUGGED. I am unmoved by polls, common sense, or morality. I got the interests of my kinfolk to care for, and the accountants of them kinfolk, and their hedge fund managers, and their corporate lobbyists, and their CEO hangers on. This is gonna be fun.
Which is why I'd like to say, for the record, as the end of my second term inches closer and closer: Fuck You. Fuck AAAAAAALL Y'ALL!
White House Information:
THE PRESIDENT: I want to take a moment to address my recent commutizing of the prison sentence of that great American patriot, I. Lewis Libby. I know my actions are at flip-flopping odds with all my prior statements opposing the use of my special legal powers to reward the loyalty of folks like Vice Presidential hatchet men, but well, that motherfucker Scooter done blackmailed it out of me in exchange for shutting his face pussy! And how could I say no? After all, there is nothing like sitting in a concrete cell to make a man all sad and blubbery like a sorority girl at her first spring break gang bang. 
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