As President Bush prepares for his

second term, the number of high-profile resignations continues to mount. We obtained copies of a few letters that didn't make the front pages.


Monsieur le President,

Je le regrette, but I fear I can no longer be a part of this charade.

My sympathies were with you, mon president, when you suffered le shocking wardrobe malfunction during the first presidential debate. The fashion faux pas in the middle of your back had the media hunting me down like a dog, but I, your humble servant, remained silent.

I understood when first you denied the bulge. But, Monsieur le President, your people go too far with the suggestion that the protrusion is simplement a natural pucker, the result of . . . le bad tailor! Quel horreur!

You know, Monsieur, I love tous les presidents I have worked for and I have ze soft spot for you as well. But it is not good for business if prospective clients believe that my specialite is to design garments for les hunchbacks.

Enough is enough. It appears it is always easier for you Americans to blame la France for your many foibles. I am a tailor fantastique, but even the worst designer in the world could not have created this crise de couture.

So respectfully, I must submit my resignation effective immediately, just as soon as I finish hemming your trousers for le Bal d'Inauguration.

Au revoir,

Georges de Paris

White House Tailor

(Vive la France!)


Dear Dad,

We know this may not be the best time to bring this up what with all the other changes going on at the White House these days, but . . . we just can't be your official goody-two-shoes anymore!

You know we did pretty well keeping up appearances over the last few months, convincing the American people what a great family we are. How we're all into moral values and all that stuff. Okay, you kept your job, and now it's time for things to go back to the way they were before the campaign.

You always say how hard you work, but do you know what a drag this has been for us? Remember when you were our age? Okay, maybe not, since you probably don't remember much if the stories we've read about you are true. LOL!

Look, we projected that wholesome image thing like Uncle Karl said we should, but this has gone on waaaaay too long. Like forever? We're about to seriously crack! Do you want us to end up like those Olsen girls? Didn't think so. So you, Mom and Gammie need to back off and let us be ourselves again.

We'll keep the good face on until after you're sworn in again, but after that, you're on your own . . . and so are we! Yippee!

Love and kisses,

Jenna and Barbara

White House Twins


Dear George,

Love the new pup you got for the first lady. She's a real cutie. She's also grabbing all the attention around here. What am I all of a sudden, chopped liver? After Spot left the picture, I thought I had it made. I thought it would be just you, me, the missus and a couple hundred Secret Service agents. One big happy family. But noooo, now it's "Miss Beazley this" and "Miss Beazley that." I don't have to tolerate this sort of disloyalty. Remember, it's only four more years for you, but that's 28 for me! No way I'll make it. I'm outta here.



"Former" White House Dog


Dear Mr. President,

While I appreciate your offer of amnesty, I cannot forget the hundreds of thousands of my brothers and sisters who will suffer at the hands of gluttonous Americans this Thanksgiving. In solidarity with artificially produced portly poultry everywhere, I feel I must take a stand and just say "No!" to the privilege you have extended to me.

What's the point anyway? So I get to live out my days on some fly-by-night farm. Big whoop! What fun is that when I can't even move, after being pumped up with more steroids than Gov. Schwarzenegger in his prime. I respectfully ask that you accept my resignation as 2004 Presidentially Pardoned Poster Fowl.

Gobble Gobble,


Briefly the White House Turkey

Author's e-mail:

Jill Rachel Jacobs is a New York writer and humorist.

Barney with Benedict -- er, George.Biscuits bows out.