LETTERS FROM HENRY
[from The Henry Rollins Show, IFC, April 1, 2006]

Dear Laura Bush,

I'm writing you today out of a genuine concern for you and your wonderful daughters.

First of all, please allow me to compliment you on standing by your man. I know how unbelievably trying, embarrassing, and infuriating it must be for you at times. I know you're college-educated, literate--a librarian, no less--and that conversations with George W. Bush may be reminiscent of the time you waved and said hello to the gorillas at the San Diego Zoo a few years ago, or trying to establish a meaningful dialogue with a bowl of wax fruit.

Your patience is only matched by the perpetual frozen expression of fear, heartbreak, and startled surprise that cries out, "I self-medicate. I'm on half a bottle of Stoli and a fistful of Zoloft before noon." I see you at his side as he visits Louisiana and dodges questions about FEMA and the lack of aid going to people in that region. You are with him every step of the way as his approval ratings continually sink.

Your wonderful monologue at the Correspondents Dinner a few months ago had me in stitches! They should rename you the First Lady of Comedy! You know, you and I have a lot in common. Neither of us feel any safer since the invasion of Iraq, and both of us read. We both have an attention span that lasts longer than half an hour, and we both have a sense of humor.

That being said, I'm going to go out on a limb here and offer my friendship to you. I have to think we could have a better time than what you're used to. I mean, come on. How many hours of a drunken Lynne Cheney reading aloud from "Mein Kampf" can anyone stand?

If you do want to hang out, think of all the fun we could have. WE could go to one of the many American seaports and watch weapons of mass destruction get waved in by Dubai nationals. We could light bags of dog doo on fire at Hillary Clinton's doorstep, ring the buzzer and run like hell!

All I'm saying, Ms. Bush, is I know you're suffering your husband as much as I am, and we might as well get our kicks before the whole shithouse goes up in flames. What do you say?

--Henry