An open letter to Rep. Patrick Kennedy, D-R.I., who just pled guilty to driving under the influence (DUI) of an intoxicant...
Paddy, me boy, I enjoy the drink meself, but I also know that after a few pints of the bitter it’s designated driver time. You should know that too, lad.
Don’t go giving the long shillelagh of the law a reason to rap you on the knuckles that'd put Sister Mary Elephant's skills to shame. And don't go making excuses that medicines to help you sleep and make your belly feel better caused you to crash your car, stumble around, speak incoherently and try to unlock the gate to someone else's home while the cops were waiting.
I mean, yeah, the stuff can make you drowsy, but I'm not going to use my melatonin as an excuse for bad driving. Surely "temporary demonic possession" (TDP) would better explain that to the arresting officers. But you were stocious, mate. Fluthered. Stonkered. Hammered. A few jars too many. You're a Kennedy, for Christ's sake; it's in your genes.
So, now you'll pay the fines and do the AA thing. One bad decision behind the wheel doesn't mean you're an alcoholic, but just humor the people, ok? It could be much worse.
As for what this incident may do to your future in public office: No worries, you still may be president one day, just like your uncle, and stop the Venezuelan Missile Crisis. Hell, a DUI didn’t stop what’s-his-face from becoming a two-termer.