THE FIRST LADY: Good morning, gals. I hope you're all enjoying your breakfasts. I promise to be brief, so we can all get back to those punchbowls of Ritz Carlton Hollandaise sauce that help fill out our control-top JC Penny underthings so splendidly.

(Laughter.)

You know, as a former librarian and teacher who talks ad nauseum about loving to read, I understand the importance of pretending to value literature – so much of which is nothing but the boring, written-down blah-blah of America-hating intellectuals. Which brings me to the matter at hand. This morning, I want to congratulate Senator and former First Lady Hillary Rodham Sometimes-Clinton – whom I'm sorry to say isn't welcome at our events – for neglecting her duties as a mother, wife and public servant long enough to churn out all those chapters of liberal fiction which make up her new memoir, Living History.

I just don't know where she got the energy to write so many pages! Personally, after I finish the USA Today crossword puzzle, have a few ciggies, then endure my daily 90-minute call from Bar, it's nearly all I can do to wrestle the safety cap off my Xanax bottle, take a six hour nap, then be refreshed enough by 5:02 to greet George in the family quarters lobby with a frosty mug of Tequiza.

(Applause.)

To me, it's just so impressive that Ms. Rodham – it is "Ms.," isn't it? And "Rodham?" How confusing! That's why I flushed my old name down the toilet and just go by "Mrs. George Walker Bush." Anyway, it's so impressive to me that whatserface had the courage to slap an $8 Million price tag on dredging up the lurid details of her humiliation so that America's high-minded news anchors and Matt Drudge can breathlessly revisit the salaciously yummy comings and goings of her hubby's horse-like pee-pee. Why, just imagine the crushing shame and dishonor by association that poor woman felt knowing that her husband had gushed mansnot all over some chunky little Jewess. In comparison, I thank Jesus every day that George's only faults have been minor little peccadilloes like a running a string of failed businesses, dabbling in insider trading, and reducing his septum to a Peruvian blue flake-flavored strip of Knox gelatin!

And so I again I say, congratulations Senator Hillary. I'm sure your book will be a big hit – one that will serve to humanize you, yet whose lurid details will fade from the popular consciousness just in time for your failed 2008 Presidential bid against my brother-in-law Jeb. That's right – Columba and I are already choosing fabrics for the 2010 East Wing renovation, so don't even think about it, sister.

In closing, let me just assure you Washington Wives that you won't ever catch this First Lady writing a messy book on politics or something mean-spirited like Neil's horrible wife almost did. We have a little saying at our White House: dungarees and typewriters are for cowboys and lesbians. That said, I have been considering writing a book with the help of my friends at the Austin Women's Flower and Garden Club. It's a simple children's tale about a little girl named Laura who befriends a Mexican girl named Consuela, then teaches her that beauty can be found pulling weeds shoulder-to-shoulder with her cancer-ravaged daddy in a finely manicured country club flowerbed.

(Applause.)

Of course, I'm going to have the good graces to not publish until I'm back at home in Crawford and all my enemies and naysayers are dead.

(Applause.)

Thank you all for coming and have a wonderful day.

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