Bush's Horrible Boyfriend.

Thanks to Ron Suresha -- http://wolfbear.livejournal.com -- for tipping me off to this.

I feel really bad for the president.  Sure, he’s pretty much destroyed our country.  He’s looted the treasury, made us world pariahs, and continues to hire idiot hacks to send our judicial system back to the Stone Age.  He totally deserves all the blame for the mess he’s made, and he should have been impeached by now.

But there’s one strong, unshakable bond that the two of us share that his complete ineptness can’t erase.

He’s had man trouble.  Bad man trouble.  And brother, that’s the one thing I know.

I’m talking about Jeff Gannon/James Guckert, of course -- the male hustler turned “reporter” who used to drop by the White House like Fonzie dropped by Arnold’s Burger Shack.  I understood how Bush could fall for him, even before I went to his website, Hotmilitarystud.com.

Aside from being hung and hunky, Jeff was so incredibly thoughtful.  He’d drop into press briefings every chance he got and lob his boy some softball questions.  It was his way of saying hello, I’m thinking of you, like my man texts me “hugz to mah beeyotch.”  “Aren’t Democrats stupid?” he’d ask, playing boy reporter.  “And why is Hillary on the rag?” Bush’s glazed look of confusion would dissipate like a raincloud, replaced by a warm, sunny glow.  You could tell it took every ounce of his willpower not to run into the audience and give his man a hug.  Hell, if I had a supportive dude like that behind me, I’d give him access to classified documents too, even if he billed me two hundred bucks an hour.

Like most relationships, though, this one burned hot and fast.  In March of 2003 Gannon logged eighteen visits to the White House.  There were two overnight visits and one six-hour tryst, the average visit lasting over two hours.

If he’d put that kind of time into college, he might have gotten a journalism degree.

Put Bush’s vacation schedule next to Gannon’s visit list and you’ll see just how deep was their love.  The length of stay doubles if the president was going on vacation, or had just gotten back from one.  On April 30, Gannon drops by for three hours, presumably to say goodbye as Bush heads off to Crawford Ranch.  On May 8, Jeff visits for six hours before Bush leaves for New Mexico.  On May 28, Jeff drops by twice before Bush takes off for Poland the next day.

Now, you know the president must be hooked bad, because think about it for a second.  He’s going on vacation in mere hours.  You know what that’s like, right?  You’re running around like a crazy person, wondering if you packed the toothpaste, making sure the stove is off, tossing out your bananas so they won’t rot while you’re gone.  You’re sweating, you’re freaking out, you’re sure you’re going to miss the plane.

Even if you hang around with male hustlers, you aren’t going to stop and chat should one happen to drop by.

Somehow, though, Mr. Gannon always fits into the schedule.

The same two time lines show us how quickly the bloom fades off the rose.  By March 2004, the visits have dropped off dramatically.  Jeff went to see George just eleven times.  There’s only one overnighter.  One lone visit is over two hours, and one is a mere six minutes long.  The average visit time is 72.7 minutes.

That's what clued me into this affair in the first place.  I mean, real reporters don’t lose interest in the most powerful man in the world after they get to know him:  no, that’s what boyfriends do.  Six-hour visits turning into six-minute visits?  Sister, that screams "RELATIONSHIP!" to me.

Like with Bennifer and Vaughniston, it’s the media that split these lovebirds.  Some busy-body realized Jeff wasn’t really a reporter and the crap hit the fan.  Gannon’s last two visits read like a Dear John letter:  There’s one last overnighter February 1, 2005, before Bush heads off to mid-America.  When he returns, there’s a three-hour visit.

And then, he doesn’t come again.

Now that the relationship has fizzled, Mr. Gannon is denying everything.  He claims he never spent the night at the White House, which means either (1) the Secret Service is terrible at recordkeeping, or (2) he's a horrible boyfriend, hitting the road once he gets what he wants.  He says that when someone neglects to check out of the White House, they’re logged out automatically after twelve hours, making it appear as though they’ve had a lengthy visit when that might not have been the case.

Let’s set the stage.  This is America post-9/11.  Americans are strip-searched trying to enter the neighborhood library.  We need to file notarized documents to order Moo Goo Gai Pan at Chinese restaurants.  Yet a man who’s starring on six X-rated websites can walk in and out of the White House at will.

There’s no way even a federal agency can be this inefficient, and I’m including the post office in here.

So while Jeff Gannon disappears to write his memoirs, George is left holding the bag.  He has no one he can talk to, no one he can trust.  His world is crumbling around him, like most of Iraq.  In the spirit of brotherhood, I’d like to offer my services.  Mr. Bush, know that you can call on your friend RomanHans, any time, day or night.  I could hold your hand, keep your spirits up, make you realize it’ll all be okay.

And, as you write about it in your diary, I can tell you that things like "humilified" and "miserating" really aren’t words at all.