President Harper's Crystal Balls

So President Harper is forcing Canadian taxpayers to pick up the bill for a staff psychic when what he really needs is a staff psychiatrist and a jelly enema.

Word out of the White House North bunker today is that the lesser President got so pissed off at the Psychic Hotline for not answering his repeated calls, he decided to hire a psychic, who also doubles as a make-up artist, shoe picker, thong presser, food tester and ass wiper (much to the chagrin of Minister of Hot Air and Global Warming John Bully Beard).

Those close to the lesser President say he has been severely depressed because of the sudden death of his beloved cat Cheddar, who may have taken his own life after some disturbing months living at the cat mansion overlooking the Ottawa River.

Harper has been so despondent, say the fart catchers around him, he has been using his psychic and her powers to communicate with the dead to reach out to Cheddar.

A transcript of a recent seance was sent to the Pain anonymously:

"Cheddar, are you there," Harper asks as the semll of incense wafts throughout the basement at 24 Sussex Drive.

"Who the fuck is asking?" purrrrrrs a familiar feline as Harper's psychic massages a crystal ball and scratches a rash on her primped arse.

"It's me Cheddar, the President. Can you hear me."

"What the fuck do you want asswipe. I was having a nice dream."

"I miss you Cheddar. Everything is unravelling around me and I have an itchy rash the national media is preoccupied with. I haven't had a bowel movement in a week and Laureen keeps pestering me to lose weight."

"You are one rotund motherfucker. You are the only cheese head I have ever heard of who has received a parking ticket in a McDonald's drive-thru. That should tell you something."

"Oh Cheddar, I miss our private time together. You know how to lift my spirits. I feel like a giddy schoolgirl."

"Listen door jam, you are a boob, an embarrassment, an incompetent leader, a climate denier and all-round mean person, a bully. And now I hear you use eyeliner and foundation and want John Bully Beard to call you Britney."

"Cheddar, why are you turning on me?"

"Because you named me after your favorite food and I hated living in the mansion. So piss off, I'm going back to sleep and never bother me again."

"Cheddar, Cheddar, Cheddar," Harper cried as the link to the other side was closed. "Oh why Cheddar. Why me. I have never been so Thunderstruck."

Indeed. Send in the clowns.