26 June 2010

The Touch of Obamus


Once upon a time a tiny nation had a great King. King Obamus was loved by his people, well, by 52% of them anyway. Obamus loved golfing and spent every minute possible on the links. One day while swinging wildly in a sand trap Obamus saw a satyr cavorting drunkenly on the green. They partnered for the remaining holes and Obamus took Slickus Willus, the satyr, home to the White Palace. There Obamus and his wife, Wookie, entertained him with lavish parties, sparing no expense. After several weeks of non-stop party, all on the taxpayers dime, the satyr brought a strange man to meet Obamus. The man was hugely fat, extremely sweaty, red-faced and appeared to be out of breath. He was clothed in only a towel which he held with one pudgy hand to keep it from slipping off. Obamus instantly recognized Goreacle, the god of nature, drunkenness, polar bears and massage parlors.

"I owe you a debt of gratitude," said the strange towel wearing god, "Slickus Willus is my teacher and my boon companion, he has told me how you found him lost upon the green and of the millions of your taxpayers dollars you have wasted upon his entertainment since you rescued him. I will grant thee one wish as thanks for your unselfish redistribution of wealth."

Obamus instantly knew what he wanted, the King of Phrygia, one of the neighboring kingdoms, had recently received a gift from Dionysus. King Midas' touch could turn things to gold. A power like that would be even better than pay-go.

"Let me make my wish perfectly clear," began Obamus, but just then a young servant girl walked past with a flagon of wine.

"Uhhm, yea, ok, done," said the god over his shoulder. The towel was still fluttering to the ground at Obamus' feet while the god rushed after the servant girl, whispering cajolingly.
Obamus rushed off to try out his new powers. Bursting into the throne room he found his advisor, the dread Rahmbus. "Check this out!" said the excited Obamus, grabbing Rahmbus' arm. Rambus emitted a short lived shriek and turned to... something totally disgusting. Now it was Obamus' turn to shriek. Advisers and fellow travellers rushed into the throne room to see what was wrong. Obamus was wild with fear and confusion. The throne was now a huge dripping pile of crap, as was the desk, the other furniture and poor Rahmbo. "Where is all this corn coming from?" mumbled poor confused Obamus, "Find that disgusting god!"

The Goreacle was nowhere to be found. Weeks passed, then months. Obamus' advisors calmed him and kept him aloof, he seldom met with people from outside his inner circle. Rumors began to spread throughout the kingdom. Rahmbo and the throne room had been cleaned, though the odor lingered. Obamus took to wearing gloves, and kept on with his agenda of stealing from his subjects and growing his government at their expense. He no longer touched anything, the Wookie was thrilled, but strange things began to happen.

Obamus' favored aristocrats began to be overthrown by the people. Obamus' own handpicked General, leading Obamus' "good war" turned against him and had to be flushed. Every new law that Obamus and his minions forced upon the people only served to anger them, the percentage of people who loved Obamus plummeted. Obamus' handpicked judges and sherrifs were hated by the people, a group of aristocrats in the rubber stamping houses of legislation began to oppose his every move. Obamus and his minions continued to spend like drunken sailors but with no gold to refill the coffers the foreign nations that lent Obamus the money began to circle like vultures waiting for teh overladen beast to fall. Obamus's Touch had grown beyond the need for physical touch, anything Obamus now desired was tainted and turned to... crap.

An evil witch appeared in the throne room one day. Nancus told Obamus he must travel to the headwaters of the great river and throw himself in to wash away the Goreacle's failed, inverted spell. She volunteered to take him herself on the broomstick Obamus' government had provided her. They flew for hours till they reached the small creek flowing from a mountain spring. Obamus leaped into the waters, desperate to salvage his agenda for the kingdom. At the instant he hit the waters thunder pealed across the heavens, Nancus' broomstick turned to a canoe and plopped into the now thick, brown, reeking waters of the creek. As Obamus clambered aboard the tiny canoe he heard Nancus exclaim, "Great, we don't have any paddles... and where did all that corn come from?"

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17 June 2010

Separated at birth

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10 June 2010

Dirty Harry Reid

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08 June 2010

Census Cats

http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/funny-pictures-cat-takes-census.jpgAnd now for the Cheech and Chong routine about the census cats:.. Only, Cheech has been under the weather and filling in for him is President Obama, who accepted this bullshit gig because he doesn't get enough positive mentions in the press.

Obama: [knock knock]

Chong: Yeah, man, what the fuck? I mean who in hell are you?

Obama: Sir, Uh, I've been trying to find out who lives, uh, in that house across the street. Nobody, uh, nobody answers.

Chong: Yeah man, that's a funny place, man. Why the fuck are you calling me Sir, Mister Preside... oh fuck I fucked that up. Shit. [pause] Hey, you got a light?

Obama: Uh, no.

Chong: Just a hemidemisemiquaver then, man, Ima go grab a light offa the stove.

Obama: Uh. That's okay then.

[a very long wait]

Chong: Man, that electric stove really sucks as a lighter man. Doesn't light a cancer stick worth a tinker's damn. I had to hold my cig against the eye for like five minutes. And then I had to smoke a bong cuz I can't believe the fucking President is at my front door. Man, this is some crazy shit or I been smoking some crazier shit!

Obama: Uh. So... about the house across the street.

Chong: Yeah, man, what a bunch of crazy cats over there man. They keep crazy hours and shit man. Must be fifteen or twenty of them.

Obama: Fifteen or twenty? Is that one family?

Chong: Yeah, man, it's like an extended family and shit with grandparents and parents and little kitties, man.

Obama: Grandparents, and parents, uh, and little kiddies?

Chong: Yeah, man, those are some crazy cats over there. You ought to hear their music, man. Like something Yoko Ono would sing in space, if there was sound in space. Which there isn't.


Obama: Fifteen, uh, are you sure about that fifteen?

Chong: Yeah, man, fifteen easy. [whispers] Say, are you high too? You saying "uh" a lot like you're stoned or something, man.

Obama: [frowns] Thank you sir, that's what I needed to know. You have done a great service to the census and the correct distribution of federal funds.

Cheech: Okay, laterz, man. ... Man what a funny dude, man. Why does the census care about an empty house full of cats and shit?

Obama: [furious, into Blackberry] Timmy? I want you to send your nastiest IRS motherfuckers out and crawl up this guy's asshole and audit him back to the day he was born, and his parents to the day they were born, and back through the generations until the fall of the Roman Empire in Istanbul. Find some fucking dirt on him. Oh, and send $15 million in stimulus money to the poor family of artists across the street.


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Why pick on Progressives?

Progressives are neo-barbarian, luddite fools who want to replace all scientific progress with their failed, pseudo-scientific, utopian fairy tale and take us back to the paleolithic period. In other words they are douchebags.

Q: Do you have a problem with Progressive Insurance?

We don't have a problem with their insurance product. But the company is also a major giver of money to politically progressive causes, and because of that the owners and managers are total douchebags.

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