I will always remember what I was doing when I heard that Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize: Taking a Crap

Ah, morning. With the window shut against hated pollen, I was sitting, more like slouching, eyes encrusted with sleep, mouth feeling as fuzzy as if I had unknowingly eaten the cat overnight, on the porcelain throne. I surveyed the damnable scale and the off-white painted wall beyond it. I was listening to the clock-radio and slowly waking up when I heard it. I'm sure that many of you, my deranged readers had the same experience on this most historic of all mornings, the morning that the One, The Messiah, Lord Barack Hussein Milhous Yasser bin Obama the Most Merciful, Prince of Hyde Park and Emperor of Ice Cream had finally won the award for which he had labored so much and waited so long, the Nobel/Arafat/Carter/Gore/memeorandum Peace Prize.

Oh blissful bliss of rectitude, out from my relaxed and serene rectum popped a blessed turd. And it was good. Really good.

So what were you doing when you heard the news? Taking a crap like me? Pissing? Gargling the Listerine around your epiglottis? Whatever you were doing, I hope you also have a blessed turd to show for it like I do, and like Obama who so totally deserved to get a Nobel Peace Prize because of having two fronts open in a hot war against global terrorist assholes, and keeping the captured terrorist assholes in a sunny and pleasant paradise far away from horrid plaintiff's lawyers from the communist ACLU.

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