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The gods have already destroyed me, long ago. Why are they still trying to drive me mad?

First there's that rat stoolie fink John Dean. The four-eyed punk who torpedoed my presidency. At one time his picture was in the dictionary next to the definition of "weasely scumbag."

But today this two-bit ex-con is a celebrity pundit. Everybody wants to know what this <expletive-deleted> thinks. Watergate figure returns from the 'dark side' to condemn Bush. John Dean Blasts Warrantless Eavesdropping. John Dean on the Missing Weapons Of Mass Destruction, for Christ's sakes, like he'd recognize a WMD if one blew off his big mouth.

But what really sends me spinning in my grave is seeing what a president can get away with these days. Hell, they tripped me up on some candy-ass obstruction of justice charge, just because I causally suggested that maybe we should call off the FBI dogs about some stupid break-in. Suddenly that's the smoking gun that ended my glorious presidency.

Smoking gun? Jesus, this president has a whole <expletive-deleted> arsenal of smoking guns — Downing Street memos, White House memos, leaks of classified information, illegal wiretaps, signing statements, phony reasons for war.

And now — if you can believe Scooter Libby, who looks like he may be the 21st-century John Dean — it turns out that Bush himself is the guy who authorized leaks of classified information. Jesus, where are the goddamn White House plumbers when you need one?

What more do you people need to fire this guy? Hell, I've heard it said that he could bite the head off a live kitten on national TV and still keep his job.

Oh, where were all you forgiving folks when I haunted the halls of the White House?