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THE WHITE HOUSE
Dear Lovers of American History: Hound's-tooth-wearing liberal liars are fond of saying that Republicans don't give a tinker's damn about colored people. Well, my stars, nothing could be further from the truth! Even when I was a little girl back in Midland, I delighted at the spectacle of horribly arthritic old black men furiously tap dancing whenever I threw a dime at them. My love of these bizarre people is reflected in my "Mammy-o-bilia" collection, which I have selflessly loaned to the White House Historical Society for what I think is a more than generous undisclosed sum in the very, very low seven figures. These wonderful pieces of Americana reflect a time when folks had values and cared about the cleanliness of their kitchens and commodes enough to hire someone more used to dirt to clean for them. I hope you enjoy the collection - your tax dollars paid for it!

Doodle Pad: As the first piece of Mammy-o-bilia in my private collection, this objet holds special sentimental value for our family. Of course, its true value lies in its wonderful irony. It never fails to make me and Bushie laugh every time we see her perched on the center island in our Crawford kitchen. A big, sloppy black woman - who you just know can't read or write even her own name - holding a big old pencil and notepad! Cookie Jar: When Jenna and Barbara were still too young to drink, they were regular sugar-holics! No matter where I'd hide those Nilla Wafers and Cowboy Cookies, those girls would sniff them out and pig themselves sick every day after school. Well let me tell you - that all changed once Mammy Cookie Jar took up residence, because the twins wouldn't dare dig down in her bottom half for fear of catching a voodoo curse!
Toothpick Holder: When I was a little girl, my dear mother Jenna gave me a light-skinned (almost high yellow) mammy toothpick holder for Jesus' Birthday. I loved it then, but years later, while flipping through a Sotheby's catalog, I realized it's the darker (or as we say in Texas, "double dipped") coloreds that are the real collector's items, so I threw the one Mother gave me in the garbage. You know it took 15 years to find this magnificent replacement? Isn't she grand?! Watermelon Seed Packet: This is the latest addition to my collection. Given to me just this month by Charles Pickering, a dear friend of both ours and Trent Lott's, as a "thank you" for Bushie pushing through his nomination for a federal judgeship again now that the Senate is less likely to make a fuss over folks who segregate more than just their wash. What a lovely gift, proving that the chivalrous values of the Old South that we all treasure are on their way back!
Coin Bank: This wonderful piece has an amusing family history. Father gave it to me so that I would start saving dimes instead of throwing them at the old colored men in town. After a year, daddy was very dismayed when he looked inside and saw that I had not deposited even a single penny. When he asked me why, I explained that both he and mother had told me "If you give money to a Negro, never expect to see it again" - so I wasn't stupid enough to trust that old tin minstrel with my shiny change! Scrubbin' Soap: Whenever Bushie comes home sweaty and smelly from a long day clear-cutting cedars on the ranch, oh how he laughs when I chase him around the master bath waving this item and hollering, "Massuh Bush sho' gonna gits himma scrubbin' now!" It may seem strange, but in a world where a rich entertainer like Star Jones can shill for cheap Payless Shoes she would never be caught dead in, why shouldn't this other fat slob be able to adorn another product she would never use - soap?
Lawn Pickaninny: After Bushie couldn't find the anthrax nut or any Al Qaeda crazies and decided to just blame everything on Saddam Hussein, we had a perfect excuse to ban visitors and blame it on "security." (Who wants a tour group from Omaha wandering in while you're putting the hurt on a fresh bottle of rum?!) But to show that we still like dark-skinned people who don't wear towels on their heads, we had all 150 of the 2-ton barriers circling the White House replaced with 31:1 scale replicas of this lovely piece from my collection! Honey Pot: Bushie loved to get a rise out of Republican Congressmen and Senators on their first visits to the White House by asking them, "Have you seen Laura's cute little honey pot?" I asked him to stop this prank after the unfortunate incident when Strom Thurmond got three of his talons in my support hose before the Secret Service was able to pry him off. This really is a wonderfully versatile piece though. Why, in addition to holding honey, this mammy is all smiles doing triple duty as a bedpan and/or dog bowl, too!
Knick-Knack Jar: Ever since I had this appraised by Allstate, we decided it is far too valuable to store the spare set of ATV keys in. So, about three times a week, Bushie will walk over, pick up her little bandana head, look inside and say, "Gee, this here Negro's head is empty. What are the chances of that?" And we laugh till it hurts! Pincushion: Bushie has had some good fun with this pincushion. One time during a cabinet meeting, Condoleezza said something that didn't rub Bushie right, so he whipped out this doll and starting sticking needles in its eyes. It was just a silly joke, but Condi hasn't spoken up since. Those people are so superstitious!
Doorstop: Can you believe that some priss at the Smithsonian chewed me out about defacing this knick-knack and supposedly ruining its value. But Jiminy Cricket, I don't care what some snooty liberal thinks - little Sambo here looks a whole heck of alot better after three weeks of Crest White Strips on those nasty old yellow teeth of his! Paper Towel Dispenser: I don't need to tell you gals that when you have a spouse and children who throw up like the dickens all the time, the one thing you can never have enough of is paper towels! Mammy is always there to lend a crisp, dry towel to wipe a vomit-splattered chin before the prying press even smells a hint of bile and last night's vodka!



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