The Anti-Sinatra

Think not?

Frank: Fought for scraps, made it big on his talent.

Dubya: Constantly fucking up, made it big on Daddy’s Rolodex.

Frank: Grew up poor, liked to dress up rich and hang out with his crew.

Dubya: Grew up rich, likes to dress like a cowboy and hang out with lickspittles and yes-men.

Frank: Fell in love with Ava & broke his heart.

Dubya: Fell in love with Dewars and constantly bruising his face.

Frank: Regular guy who hung out with mobsters because he liked the reputation it gave him.

Dubya: A Fredo-grade gangster who rubs himself up against hand-picked “regular people” in hopes of covering his moral stink.


Still not convinced?

Well just look at Dubya’s cover of “My Way”. Then decide.


1...2...3...


And soon, November nears;
And so we face the next election.
My friends, keep pimping Fear,
It's all that give us our erection.

I’ve lived a wastrel’s life
Should be trailer-bound and selling Amway
But Daddy’s rich; friends richer still
So I get things my way.

Regrets? My drunken kids.
Except for them, I am perfection.
Shivved who I wanted to
And spied on you without detection.

But though I planned Dubya parades;
Down each Iraqi byway,
I fucked it all, fucked it in spades
’Cause we did it my way.

Yes every day, I’m sure you knew
That I bit off way, waaay more than I could chew.
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I ran away, to wait it out.
While I goofed around, Karl slimed ‘em down;
And called ‘em all gay.

I’m weak and mean and dim
Done more than my share of boozing.
And now that I am SOTU-dry,
I find the real world so confusing.

Hard to believe I told so many lies.
And not one told in a shy way,
Oh no, got right in your face:
That’s lying my way.

For what is a Neocon, what has he got?
If he’s not my ass-man, then he has naught.
The GOP has spines like eels,
When I walk in, everyone kneels.
The record shows, they blow me like pros
In that Mehl-man-ly Guy Way!