Pleasure Boat Captains for Truth: Pleasure Boat Captains for Truth
Pleasure Boat Captains for Truth
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Pleasure Boat Captains for Truth
If you are a current or former pleasure boat captain and you believe George W. Bush is lying about his so-called "party animal" past, please post your eyewitness testimony/hearsay here.
George was on my boat on Lake Superior in the early 70's around Christmas time....I rememeber in was cold as crap and "W" was so wasted he kept trying to catch snow on a little mirror and snort it and kept shouting "BRAIN Freeze!!!!!". Well to make a long story short we grounded the boat in Canada and bought some beer but he told us not to tell anyone because he couldn't leave the country while he was in the Alabama National Guard ...or something like that ........I told him to stop being such a wuss ..It wasnt like we are were on some Swift boat going into Cambodia ... To make a long story short "W" puked his ass off after drinking a case of Molson and downing a Bottle of Tylenol threes with Coedine ......I will state this here and now that George W Bush is not fit to serve as commander in chief and I'll tell you why ...HE INVADED MY SISTER AND LIED TO GET INTO HER.......
Well, George insisted on taking the helm. Wanted to impress some churchgirl, figured he'd dock the boat real smooth-like, showoff, and later try 'n put his cabin cruiser in her slip, if you know what I mean. Idiot came in too hot, forgot to put it in reverse. Aside from taking out the dock, everyone - and I mean everyone - spilled their drinks. Not a drop was left in any glass. Damn landlubber...
Sometime in the Spring of 1972 (I was so wasted back then, I don't recall dates too well), GWB flew into Miami from Houston on a coke run with some of his buds, including that asshole James Bath, whom I employed occasionally to help me clean up my profits. Anyway, I had a quarter pound of pink flake left over from a recent excursion around the Caribbean and I knew the Bush crew would pay an exorbitant price for the stuff - those wimpy Houston frat boys were known for paying almost street price for large quantities.
I sent my partner, Raoul, with the limo to meet the boys at the airstrip and he brought them back to my yacht, "The Party Hardy" (since confiscated). The limo, of course, was well-stocked with Hienies, and apparently young George threw one down on the way to the yacht. After just one beer, this future president half-stumbled onto the yacht giggling like a friggin' school girl. I was unimpressed. A frat boy who can't hold his beer?
One of my girls -- Sapphire, I think -- served more brew as we settled in the cabin and I brought out the snow for a taste. While Bath was hitting on Sapphire, I saw George popping a valium. "Nervous about flying back?" I asked him.
"Hell, no," he replied. "I can't fly a plane - James is flying. No, it's just that I won't do coke without a blue. Takes the edge off." Needless to say, this confirmed my suspicions about young Bush.
When the flake was chopped and the lines were laid out, the frat boys went at it. George went last, and he wouldn't use the straw I had provided. He took out his own, fancy-looking tube from a case. It took him three terrible sniffs to vacuum a line that should have disappeared in one try. Each time he snorted, Bush's face contorted wildly and he made these god-awful snuffling, gagging sounds. It was horrible to watch. What was worse, is that he would slap his nose silly after each toot. I'd never seen anything like it!
Well, after a few more lines, George's nose started bleeding. It couldn't have been from the blow - the stuff was pure and chopped well, and nobody else even had a sniffle going. No, Bush's nose bleeds were cause by the slapping he engaged in each time he snorted. I know Bush later bragged about the horrible nose bleeds he suffered from his cocaine use, but I'm here to tell you the truth: those nose-bleeds were self-inflicted.
To make a long story short, after one more brewski and a few more lines, and as the valium kicked in, George became a raging nut-case. He kept babbling about if it was wrong for a man to want to kill his father, and the stuff he said about "Babs," well, I won't repeat it. After puking overboard three times, he ended up having to be carried back to the limo and, thankfully, I never heard from him again. I do know that the wimp had to miss some sort of military physical exam because of this.
Look, there's a lot of people who will swear up and down that President George Bush is a genuine hard-partier, a real man who can hold his liquor and dope, a real hero of the dope days of the sixties and seventies. But those of us who served with him on the front lines of Miami and in the trenches of Houston and Cape Cod know the truth. The lies about Bush's ability to party sully the good name of all of us who really could party and sail at the same time, who fought the good fight back in the glory days. George Bush - you're a lightweight.
I'm Captain "Panama" Red and this is a true account, I think.
In 1987 I was with a group of guys on 50' Hatteras sportfisher berthed in Corpus Cristi. Someone had invited 'W' along. After two beers drank over the course of a few hours, he started giggling uncontrollably, shreiking "five dolla sucky fucky!", grabbing the crotch of whoever was near him, and talking about how he couldn't wait to go back to Bangkok for more "14 year old poon tang." On the way back he insisted on sitting on the foredeck, where he got drenched every time the bow hit a wave. He seemed to come to his senses after that, apologized half-heartedly, then said "well, if you won't forgive me, I know Jesus will."
> My name is JoeBob Jackson. I'm from Montgomery Alabama, and I'm a cocaine addict. I've been in recovery for a while, > but it's never really over. Ask my snort buddy. George Bush. No kidding! > > It was late 1972, maybe early 73 and we met at the dealer's place. George seemed like a nice guy, and we hung for a while. > Pretty soon, we were doing it all together: snorting, drinking, hunting up coke, even a little small-scale dealing of our own, to > George's buddies down at the campaign. I was 4F (flat feet and braces) and I assumed George had lucked out in the draft > lottery. He was in town working on Winton Blount's senate campaign. > > I remember a couple of wild nights-- picking up some street girls to party with, barely staying on the road... of course, > that sort of thing was no big deal in those days... lot's of people in Alabama didn't even know what driving under the > influence meant! > > Anyhow, we got nabbed. Our dealer was fingered, and he turned us over, like who wouldn't. George was with me. I > still remember how surprised I was when he didn't give his right name to the cops! When I asked him about it, he said he > couldn't be arrested under his own name-- his grandfather had been a senator, and his dad was ambassador to the UN! > > Plus he was worried that he'd be thrown out of the Guard and get sent to Vietnam. Guard, I said, You ain't in no guard! > You never been more than a day from the dealer's place that I know of! Yeah, sweet deal, hunh, he said. He told me > if you know the right people you can't really get into trouble. > > Anyhow, I never thought about it much. George served his time on misdemeanor posession; I got off because I was just in > the place-- not carrying when they got us. > > I never said anything about it in the 2000 election-- George still seemed like a nice guy to me, and everyone deserves > the right to a new beginning, I say. Plus he said he found Jesus! I respect that. Plus the statute of limitations on my > dealing the 70's wasn't up-- I could of been taken in until 2002, 2003. I've been clean since that arrest, and I didn't want to > give up what I've made of my life since those days. > > But now I'm in the clear. And I just can't believe good ol' George would allow attacks on John Kerry's war record, when > he used his connections not just to get in the guard but to blow it off once he was in it. And that he'd smear John McCain, > who was being tortured in Hanoi when George was high as a kite in my house in Montgomery. Once you find Jesus, you > got to live right. Not do wrong and let other people do wrong to benefit you. > > So here's the truth. George didn't show up for the National Guard because he was buzzing around on cocaine, and then he > was in the Montgomery County lockup. Maybe in between he went to the dentist down at the base-- rich people always > take advantage of free stuff, even if they don't need it. > > Scout's honor. > > JoeBob Jackson, Montgomery Alabama
dude yall are a bunch of old ass pricks that find harmony (if yall can understand that word) by making other peoples lives hard, get a FUCKING LIFE, who cares what he did when he was young, if yall were right there with him when he was doing it, then your no better then him, so who the fuck are yall to be saying shit about george w. i mean serriously, yall need to find something to do with your lives
We were doing "elevators" one time... an elevator is when you are drunk or high and you hyperventilate for a minute or so and then you have a buddy wrap his arms around your chest from behind and lift you up in the air till you hallucinate shit.
Well this one particular elevator I did, after my buddy let go and I crashed face-first into the ditch, I'm pretty sure I saw George W Bush somehow floating under the gravel.
He just looked kind of unsure about what was happening, then disappeared.
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Many thanks and best wishes,
Iza, Roberto Iza
Muy Señores Míos:
Algunos de nuestros comentarios incluyen vínculos rotos que bien pudieran llevar hoy a una tercera persona. Por tanto, le rogamos, por favor, que los deseche o desestime.
: 11:14 PM
