Best Plagiarized Lines from Bush’s Book « Borowitz Report

Best Plagiarized Lines from Bush’s Book

"After it emerged that entire sections of George W. Bush’s memoir Decision Points were plagiarized from books by former aides, The Borowitz Report asked our followers on Twitter to come up with the best plagiarized first line for the book:

They were betterer times, they were worserer times.

Are you there, Satan? It’s me, George.

The past is a foreign country; we need to blow it up."

Scoop's additional suggestions:

In my younger and more inebriated years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since, trying to understand it. I wish he hadn't used so many big words, the prick.

The human race, to which so many of my readers belong, has been playing at children's games from the beginning, and will probably do it till the end, which is a nuisance for the people who grow up. Lucky for me, I ain't one of 'em.

You don't know about me without you have read another book by the name of The Auto-biography of Dick Cheney; but that ain't no matter, cuz I didn't even know Cheney could drive, let alone write a whole big book about one auto.

I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story. Man, that confused the shit out of me.

If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. The important thing is this: I like those marshmallow circus peanuts.

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by Cheney, these pages must show.

I, George W Bush, President and Governor and This-that-and-the-other (for I shall not trouble you yet with all my titles) who was once, and not so long ago either, known to my friends and relatives and associates as "George the Idiot," or "That W," or "George the Stammerer," or "D-D-Dubya" or at best as "Poor Junior," am now about to write this strange history of my life; starting from my earliest childhood and continuing year by year until I reach the fateful point of change where, some nine years ago, at the age of fifty-five, I suddenly found myself caught in what I may call the "golden predicament" from which I have never since become disentangled. I'll tell you that shit later, but right now my head hurts from all that copyin' 'n' pastifyin'. I'm gonna clear me some brush.