It's late. I'm tired. There's the door.

In my house I think I'd get up in the middle of his waxing semi-eloquent and clean the kitty litter box. I'd spill the contents on him, insist it was an accident, claim that this particular cat's poo is toxic and tell him to go straight to the ER.

I know it would work.

Read This:

Hasn't He Gone Yet?

[Excerpt]

Have you ever had a boring guest long-overstay his welcome, perhaps after breaking several family heirlooms and spilling red wine on the rug? It's late, you have a really big day ahead, and you just want him gone. But he stands unmoving at the door, saying his goodbyes, and that leads to him telling another tall tale and then another. Oblivious to the late hour, oblivious to reality right in front of him as you weave dizzily, about to collapse. And he just goes on and on, talking about himself, how great he is. And all the while, the pounding in your head screams, "Just Leave Already!!!"

I think that's a little how most of America is feeling with the George Bush Interminable Farewell Tour.

Is he still there? Hasn't he moved back to Texas yet? Doesn't he have the decency to just go off already and pack? Or is George Bush still standing in the doorway, boorishly telling his hosts how great he is, after having broken their treasured possessions?