From Ironic Times

OUR MAN IN HELL
by Richard Nixon
Word of the president's problems is not playing well down here. Junior's been on the defensive ever since that bozo he hired turned New Orleans into, well, this place.
He's sitting on a massive deficit, an unwinnable war and poll numbers that look like Truman's in 1952 (which were lower than mine ever were!). Normally I'd say, "Burn the tapes!" But there's the rub.
So, here's what he has to do: resign. That's right. Get out. But not before dictating a carefully worded pardon to Cheney. Next year, during the Super Bowl, say, he can release a one-sentence announcement to the wire services.
In other words, it's over. Once they turn on you they're like ravenous weasels. Better to enjoy your later years with a nice fat book deal and wait to be rehabilitated after the next guy, or gal, screws up. Gotta go. John and Martha Mitchell are coming over for a barbecue.
(Mr. Nixon appears courtesy Hades News Service.)