Fly on the Wall: The Presidential Conversation You Weren't Supposed to Hear.

At last, a legacy congeals into actual brick and mortar.

Dang, it's about time; the world has teetered on pins and needles long enough.

Located upon a twenty-five acre spread on the campus of Dallas' Southern Methodist University, the George W. Bush Presidential Library and Museum is slated to open April 25.

And according to the numerous sources I've dug up with the oxidized metal detector that is Google, President Obama and his four living predecessors-in-chief will also drop in to the hoedown for the slow clown.

By the way, why is it necessary to point out that all former presidents attending are still alive? I'd hate to see what Nixon looks like these days.

I'm guessing that Bill Clinton, Barack Obama and Jimmy Carter will probably sit together and pretend to save the seat next to them for Al Gore, the man actually elected president in 2000. Naturally, Gore won't show, but now they'll have a little buffer so George the Elder won't nestle in and hear the dirt they're dishing about the child he probably wished he'd left behind.

What I wouldn't give to catch a whiff of their confidential vitriol. Oh, well, let's just imagine, shall we?

Obama: Afternoon, gentlemen. Great to see you two. You're looking fit, Jimmy. Building houses for poverty-stricken families across the planet suits you…doggone it, look at those leathery hands of yours. What are you now, a hundred and seven? Granted, what you're doing doesn't achieve the same lofty altruistic heights that painting puppy portraits does, but you're no spring chicken, either. Heh, heh!

Carter: Well, you know, Rosalynn and I do what we can. Holy Christ, those Texas crickets are loud!  Are they coming from that field over there or inside the head of that mouth breathing peckerwood we're honoring today?

Clinton: Easy there, Jimmy. You and I are southerners, too.

Carter: And from what I understand, Bill, you asked an intern or two to move south, if you know what I mean.

Clinton: Touché, my friend.

Obama: Can you believe this place is a quarter of a million square feet? Damn. Maybe they should just move Gitmo here. Then they can just execute them all—you know—being Texas and whatnot.

Carter: I can't believe it's the second largest presidential library. The only book the guy read in eight years was My Pet Goat, and I'm not even sure he finished it.

Clinton: Touché, my friend.

Obama: Yeah, well it's also a museum. It's gonna have the bullhorn he used at the Twin Towers and Saddam's revolver. Cheney suggested they be displayed together! Heh, heh!

Carter: Good one, buddy. Where is that Cheney, anyway? At his vacation bunker?

Obama: I heard he's pissed that there isn't a waterboarding station where you can get your picture taken like when you're riding the Six Flags roller coaster. He's not coming.

Clinton: Okay, let's cut out the smack talk, eh, gents?  This is a library, after all, and educational institution meant to both celebrate and enlighten. As George himself said in 2004, "the illiteracy level of our children are appalling."

Carter: You guys always make me feel so much better. Oh, looks like we're getting started. I knew I should have peed earlier.