ear Uncle Sam,

Hello dear Uncle, this is Arnold. I am fine, how are you? Please send money, lots of it. I have run out of cash, all my credit cards are maxed and nobody will loan me a dime. I don’t know why!

No, Uncle, I didn’t do anything wrong, at least I don’t think so. I still have blank checks in my checkbook, so I must have money, right? I keep grinning, giving the camera a “thumbs up” and saying “Fantastic!” but for some reason people are all mad at me.

I was busy, Uncle. I had trips to China and Israel, $50,000-per-plate Wall Street fundraisers and outlawed incandescent light bulbs. I even made being stoned at orgies a respectable resume item for the office! Gray Davis could never have done that! Like I’m supposed to watch pennies, too?

The people are all upset with me just because those horrible, girlie-man home-owners refuse to pay their bills due to the nice men from the banks who write great big checks to my various political action committees. Thank goodness all their other friends there in Washington, D.C. were able to get together and help them. I hear that some of those people have almost even had to downsize from their private jets to – gasp – commercial flights. Can you imagine? I couldn’t get to work without my friends letting me use their jets and letting me crash at that great little luxury hotel suite in Sacramento.

And That’s Not the Worst
They are so unfair. Uncle, they are making a big deal out of the fact that I have increased the state’s general obligation bond debt $78 billion, from $42.1 billion to $120.1 billion since I became governor. So what if the entire California general fund is only about a hundred billion dollars? I still have another $68 billion in authorized bonds that I have not sold yet. As far as my friends and I are concerned, that means I have really actually cut our debt from nearly $200 billion. That makes sense, doesn’t it?

Besides, the REASON Foundation wrote Sept. 9 that we only have to pay back $1.30 for every dollar we borrow. That’s a good deal, Uncle.

Here is part of what I need the money for; I hope that you can help.

• $9.95 billion to get started on a wicked cool $45 billion choo-choo train (I call this one Proposition 1A on the state ballot, Uncle).
• Proposition 3 is $980 million for what I call “capital improvement projects at children’s hospitals.” What capital improvement projects you ask? Oh, I dunno, I think they are going to build new stuff, maybe put in a golf course so the doctors won’t have to drive so far.
• Proposition 10 is one of my favorites. This one gives me $5 billion for what I call “renewable energy” and “alternative fuel” along with programs for “energy efficiency” and “air emissions reduction.” See how clever I am with this one? It is even less specific and more vague than that “capital improvement” stuff in the other one. I can spend that money on anything I want or give it to whoever pleases me the most.

We can’t forget our veterans either, Uncle, so I need to borrow another $900 million for a farm and loan program that I call Proposition 12.

I know that you have problems of your own but I am Arnold, so if you could please drop a check for $7 billion into the mail, that should tide me over until my new plan to solve California’s fiscal crisis is ready. Here’s the great news: A nice disposed prince from Nigeria emailed me inviting me to share in his windfall and all I have to do is send him the $7 billion as security and he will wire me all the money that I will ever need.

Thank you, Uncle, you’re swell!

Arnold