hmmm. Obamy is 46. Bill is 60.

Nobody has seen the actual birth certificate. The Moron doesn’t look like any of the thousands of people in his immediate family.

Neither one has done a lick of work in his life. Neither one has a stop switch on his motor mouth. Neither one ever met a plant he wouldn’t eat or smoke. Neither one is confused by the truth.

hmmm.

“CLINTON NAMED ENVOY TO HAITI”

The glaring headline caught the eye of a startled Hillary. Am I? she wondered. No one said anything to me about…oh –right. It’s Bill. Him again. Well, if it keeps him out of my hair…

Hillary lit a cigar and tossed the paper on the floor. She put her feet up on the ornate desk, carved from Ethiopian teak and precious Bongo horn, and inhaled a lungful of rich, Cuban flavor. God, my feet are huge she mused, idly wiggling her size 11s. Really huge.

So Bill’s going to Port-Au-Prince. They’ve got a lot of AIDS down there, she thought hopefully. Not that that would stop him, oh no. When that man dies they’ll have to take a baseball bat and beat his pecker down to get the coffin shut.

Not that I minded that much, back in the old days, when we first started going out. Oh no. Those were the happy times. We were young and foolish and so in love.

Bill was soooo handsome; with his long, flowingesque hair and his Vikingesque beard and his yokelesque accent – every girl on campus was crazy about him but he chose me, ME, with my buckybeaveresque teeth and my weirdly shaped hips and all my, er, “emotional issues”.

We were magic together: Bill’s brains and easy charm and my, er, well, I was there too. We’d spend hours making hot, passionate love – sometimes even with each other. Anyway, it was great at first but then, somehow, things began to change.

When did she first notice that things weren’t right? Maybe it was after Bill became governor. He said they’d celebrate, just the two of them. He was taking her out to “a new place”. That’s what he said: “a new place”.

“Subway?” she’d wondered, looking up at the colourful sign. “Is this it?”

“Uh huh” said Bill. “An’ you kin have anythin’ on the menu you want, honey – as long as it’s the Sub of the Day”.

“But I don’t like turkey and ham” she complained. “What are you going to have?”

“Well, I’ll be ovah across the street in Swankington’s, havin’ the Maine lobster –but don’t you worry. You can watch me through the window”.

“But Bill; its cold out here. I’m shivering!”

“Now, now honey. It’s not always about you. Let’s not spoil mah special day with your whining, huh? Here’s five dollas: you can get a small sub and a fountain drink and a bag of chips and still bring me some change. Go on now –scoot!”

“Can I at least have extra cheese?”

“Nuh uh” said Bill. “Sorry”.

So she’d stood there, alone in the October darkness, slowly chewing her sub and watching Bill eat lobster. There were a couple of women at his table too, “cousins from out of town” he’d said but she wasn’t so sure. Bill had never mentioned any cousins who were black or Chinese before.

He didn’t come home that night or all the next day. When he finally turned up, his eyes were all red, there was a crust of white powder around his nostrils and he’d lost his underpants somehow. It all seemed a little suspicious but Bill explained that he was doing secret undercover work for the FBI, uncovering a secret drug smuggling and prostitution ring operating in Little Rock.

Phew, she’d said. Why didn’t you say so? At least you finally told me the truth. I’m glad we’re not one of those couples that keeps secrets from each other.

“Me too, honey, me too” said Bill. “Look, Ah gotta meet anothuh, um, couple of secret contacts tonight. Don’ wait up, okay?”

Okay –but at least take some State Troopers with you –so I’ll know you’re safe.

“Um, okay. Sure – why not?”

… Haiti was the place for the political and monied In Crowd of yore. Before the infamous “Kennedy Compound” in Florida the Kennedys had an awesome estate in Haiti that was their chosen lair, I mean get away spot.

What makes this interesting to me is that there was a fantastic struggle over Haiti waged between Aristotle Onasis and the Kennedys. (the Greek blood feud between these families is hair raising and terrifying)

Onassis used to own most of Monaco and had grown fabulously wealthy. (since this is book length history, I’ll be paraphrasing) So much so that the Rainers in essence nationalized Onassis’ holdings and cast him out.

Where did Onassis get enough capital to pull off such a move? To own the rights to gambling, liquor, supply businesses, hotels, docks, marinas, etc in a tiny bit of isolated sovereignty? Drugs. He was the chief drug smuggler into Europe out of South America. And he did that with WWII surplus Victory ship tankers and fuel ships (what became the first backbone of his shipping empire). Moving drugs out of South America. Therein lies a tale of crime and deceit because it was highly illegal for him to own US National surplus ships. See theforbiddenknowledge

Anyway, when Onassis was run out of Monaco he searched for a suitable place to re-establish his gambling empire and chose Haiti. There’s another book length history regarding this topic, but to sum it up, The Kennedys ruined Onassis (for a while) by having all his ships confiscated and maneuvering events politically so he couldn’t take over Haiti … a little something/something the Kennedys planned on doing themselves to emulate the Mob in Cuba.

Billy is a Kennedy operative from the word Go.

So I find it credible that Billy has been posted to Haiti. Either he’s making his Caribbean bones in order to become our first Ambassador to Cuba, or Haiti is up for distribution and the Clintons are in on the ground floor. Meaning the Kennedy Empire is expanding again, and Haiti is cheap land, tropical paradise, a cheap labor force desperate for something good to happen and I’d hazard that casino gambling with few laws is on the way. Can Marriott and Hilton be far behind? Good way to launder money, too.

Whatever it is, the Kennedys are backing it and it’s immoral, illegal and shocking to angels and demons alike … that being their M.O.

But the money-laundering idea makes some sense too.

Just sayin’ ….