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Life of Dubya Revealed: A Pictorial Biography (Part 1)

Look, Barb--he smiles when I say "oil." Look, Barb—he smiles when I say “oil.”

It was true: Gas made baby Dubya smile. A lot.

Even to this day, Dubya enjoys a hearty laugh at the expense of natural gas.

Help! Make it stop, Daddy! Get James Baker on the phone! Help!

Make it stop, Daddy!

Get James Baker on the phone!

Sunday after-dinner excursions to the CIA's secret interrogation camps. Dubya retained fond memories from childhood’s halcyon days…like frequent Sunday afternoon excursions, when his father would laugh, help his son pull on his red boots, and then fly the entire family to see heinous detainees grunt and sweat in the CIA’s secret interrogation camps.
Dad says I'm not supposed to talk to terrists... Dad says I’m not supposed to talk to terrists…
Dubya's poop never stank. George H: Son, I remember when you were just a baby. I had to change a lot of diapers.

Barbara: And your poop didn’t stink then, either.

Dubya sulks in front of his Dad's oil well. That ain’t fair Daddy done drilled up all the oil in Texas.

When I grow up I’m gonna have more oil than he does.

Don’t know where I’ll steal it, but I’m gonna have more, just wait and you see…

Wanna play nukular winter? Hi! Wanna play nukular winter with me and little Jeb?

Continue to Part 2: Life of Dubya Revealed: A Pictorial Biography (Part 2)

And don’t miss When They Were Young: The Bush Administration.

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