After days of denials and non sequiturs, Presidential candidate (and Texas Governor) George W. Bush changed his tactic. For the briefest of seconds (in political time), Junior stood hard and fast on his refusal to answer the question about past cocaine use. He was making a precedent. He was standing firm. He was putting a stake in the ground and pitching a tent. George W. Bush was drawing the line and to hell with anyone who dared cross it.

And then, inexplicably, he crossed it. No drug use in the last seven years. Then fifteen. Now the number is all the way up to 25. Junior is 53 years old, which means he is saying he hasn't used cocaine since he was 28. I can honestly say the same thing--mostly because I'm not 28 yet.

But here is the rub, if he's committed to saying that he's been clean for 25 years (as far as cocaine goes--we all know by now that he stopped drinking when he was 40--great story by the way, Junior), he might as well come clean. Let us hear the real scoop and get it all behind him.

He drew a line and then erased it with his own foot. Now he can't even draw a line anymore. He's lost that privilege because he couldn't even keep his own rules. So let's hear the scoop, Junior. Were you a cokehead in your twenties, or was it just to impress your friends or a girl or what?

Okay, I know it's hard, so I'll start.

About four years ago, I used cocaine.

There were these two girls, you see. One of them was seeing my brother (sort of, in the non-going out, going out type of way that happens in post-modern early twentysomething society) and the other was a friend of hers. And they loved coke. It was their thing. And they wanted to let us in on it.

Now I've always been a little apprehensive about it because I saw all of those scary commercials about what happens to cokeheads.

You know the one where the guy is walking around in a circle in the middle of a padded room saying he started doing coke so he could do his job better so he did more coke so he could do his job better so he could do more coke so he could do his job better and then it all came crashing down and he ended up in this padded room?

Yeah, that one got me good, because I don't understand why anyone would do drugs to do their job better. I mean, I don't even want to work at a job, so why would I do a drug that made me want to work more?

So these girls came over one night and after a bit of discussion we pulled a CD case over and cut a few lines. Originally we were going to use Sublime's Robbin' The Hood, but since Brad Nowell had just O.D.ed, we thought that was in bad taste. So we used Ween's Pure Guava, which, to this day, still makes my fingers a little numb when I pick it up.

They were small lines (or so the girls said), but after one, I was off and running like I'd just downed a pot of coffee and a half. I had the greatest conversation in the world, talking at top speed, for about two to three hours (I did two lines eventually, the second coming during a slight pause in the marathon yapping). And I didn't get to sleep until sometime the next day.

The only cool thing was the floaty teeth feeling that occurred after smearing a bit of coke dust around my gums--now there's a medical use for coke, except that eventually it will start to eat through the gums and thus render any good side-effects null and void.

That was it. I had a chance to do more a month or so later (same girls), but I declined. I was already wired from Coke (liquid form), so I didn't think it was necessary. That and I really didn't want to be up until noon the next day, staring up at my ceiling waiting to come down.

I didn't like it. I don't want to be that awake. As a matter of fact, I rarely drink coffee, except when I'm writing (half cup of coffee, fourth cup of Irish whiskey, fourth cup of milk is great for spewing forth upon the page). But you see, I drink coffee so I can write better so I can drink more coffee so I can write better so I can...uh, nevermind.

I just don't enjoy being more awake than merely awake. And since I haven't seen those girls (and no one I know has offered), I haven't even been tempted with coke since that time.

So does this mean I can be President, or will there be other questions? Cause I might have to draw the line, y'know. There are some things I probably shouldn't talk about. And I promise, when I draw a line, there's no stepping over it.

See Junior, it wasn't that hard.

Matt Worley apologizes for the second straight week of The Presidency 2000, but he is slightly addicted to politics, despite earlier protests to the contrary.