27 September 2010

Democrat Logo: Fixed It For You

Progressive Douchebag Watch is a little late to the party but it finally struck us this week exactly what the new look Democrat logo really needs. First, here is the new look Democrat logo. Pretty (D)umb, right?



Let's examine it. The dim D, apparently standing for dim Democrat, is surrounded by the much bolder O, apparently standing for Obama. This illustrates the subservient nature of the Democratic Party to the personality cult of Obama. That is very important to the new fascist future of the USA under Maximum Leader Obama. There are three fonts in this logo, to demonstrate the incoherent policies and behavior of Democrats. And there is the same vacuous Change in the slogan, promising who knows what and delivering (D)isappointment and (D)espair to everyone. Good choices, Democrats. You have made a good start at describing Democrats' (D)umb party.

But you aren't there yet. Our crack staff thought that the circled D looked like a letter grade. Since the Democrats have manifestly failed in all they tried to do, it can't be the right grade. So let's fix that grade and make the slogan match it.



However, there is another possibility. D- might have been Obama's letter grade from Harvard.



That answer makes sense all right. But why would the Democrats want to advertise Obama's grades now, when they could have proved he actually passed Harvard without cheating by releasing these before the 2008 elections. Of course, Obama did give himself a grade of B-. Perhaps if the Democrats want to really become the Barack-ocrat Party they should just go all in now. Here is a logo that emphasizes the Barackyness of the Democratic Party and also reminds the voters of one of their proudest allies in the teachers' unions that have such a terrific job with the nation's failing schools.



After Velma Hart made her famous comment about Hot Dogs and Beans, the staff thought perhaps that the new reality Democrats had brought to Americans should be part of their logo. So they simplified back down to the original logo and changed the slogan to match.



But, you know the fact is that D just doesn't cut it. D is too high a grade for the Democrats. Unlike in school, effort doesn't count in real life. What counts is results. The real grade must be a low F. To really run on their undefeated record of failure after failure, going back 80 years to when Franklin Delano Roosevelt stretched out a one year recession into a 16 year Great Depression, every single economic and other decision made by the socialist/fascist FDR type of Democrats has proved that the road to hell is paved with good intentions and stupid Democrat policies.



We think that this final logo for the Democrats, I mean Failocrats, sums up the history of their party in the 20th and 21st century quite well. It's time to consign the socialist/fascist Democrats to the ash-heap of history along with all their logos.

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Young Love in Trouble

This skinny legged mack daddy seduced a lot of college kids in 2008, and now they are getting the morning after willing to chew their own arm off to get out from under his skanky ass blues. In other words, "Obama, it's not me. It's you!"



Who would have ever expected the halo to get rusty so soon?

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25 September 2010

What is funny about Boobs on TV?

My brain doesn't work when I see Carrie Keagen. Somebody please explain to me what is funny about this in the comments. I don't see funny. I see awesome! of the level of awesomeness! reserved to the fricking awesome! US Constitution!



WTF?

I keep on playing it again and again and again and besides getting chapped palms am not making any headway.

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24 September 2010

Borat Sponsors, Passes Bill in US Congress to make peeing illegal

Everyone noticed that Stephen Colbert testified about cornholing and corn-packing Iowans and all sorts of other corny jokes today, but nobody seems to get why. And no I don't mean because of Coate's testimony on the Vote Cheating Section of the Department of the Perversion of Justice. No, we all knew that was going to be ignored by the communist media vanguard and their communist lapdogs in the Democratic Party. I mean that today's stunt was an unsuccessful attempt by Colbert to one-up Al Franken's hilarious stunt of getting elected as the Junior Senator from Minnesota. The Franken comedy act is so subtle and yet so over the top, simultaneously, that people don't get it. Maybe if someone at NBC, where Zucker got zuckered out the door today, well, if NBC had a weekly show featuring the Junior Senator from Minnesota, say, on Saturday nights at 1130 eastern time, then people would get it. By it, I mean syphillis. Or trich.

But what has been so far un-noticed in the Stephen Colbert antics continuously broadcast by the hydrocephalic media is that Borat went into the House of Representatives today, flirted like a madman with Madam Speaker, and convinced her to pass a bill that made peeing illegal in the US. Then he took the bill over to Harry Reid, flirted with him like a madman, and got Harry "the needy reed gone to seed" Reid to pass the bill. Then he took the bill to the White House, and after some mad flirting with Michelle Obama, who hasn't been getting much attention from whats-his-name lately, got her to sign Barry's John Hancock onto the bill. That's how to get things done!

Now we will all have to hold it. Forever. I believe that Al Franken's massive practical joke on the American people has been beaten.

And remember, when you piss your pants, thank a progressive!

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Will Gary McDowell let Grandpa die?

Sources say; yes.




Is McDowell a good candidate for Michigan? Same sources; No.

In fact, Michigan may be thinking that Dan Benishek is the better choice soon.

Check out Benishek here, he's not a douchebag like McDowell.

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23 September 2010

Frankenfish Feast for the Fraidy-Cats

Genetic scientists have engineered a breed of salmon that grows twice as fast and can be twice as large as salmon in the wild. It has been dubbed by the media as a "Frankenfish", a play on the organic foods community purjorative "Frankenfood".

An article by Marion Nestle in the Atlantic sums up the generic opposition to Genetically Modified foods:

Of course the public does not trust genetically modified foods. The foods are not labeled. If the biotech industry and the FDA want the public to trust them, they need to label the GM salmon and all the other GM foods in the marketplace.

The public wants the right to choose. The public should have the right to choose. The issue of GM foods cannot just be about safety. My mantra on this one: Even if genetically modified foods are safe, they are not necessarily acceptable.

Before I get to the issue of people's aversion to GM foods, I just want to say that when I find the individual who coined the term "Frankenfood" as a purjorative for these foods, I'm going to beat him with a sack of doorknobs and then force him to watch every episode of "Greg the Bunny" until he scoops out his eyes with a celophane tape dispenser. Frankenstein reanimated dead tissue. If a scientist developed a method of bringing dead grain and other food plants back to life after they had died, a person would have to be completely out of their gourd to oppose it. Said person should be sterilized immediately. Preferably with a rusty fork.

Doctor Moreau was the geneticist (at least, as close as H.G. Wells could conceive of it). But since Boris Karloff never played the Hyena-Swine creature on film and no one went to see the adaptation with Marlon Brando and Val Kilmer, people use the "Franken" term. It speaks to the ignorance of the individuals who both generated and continue to use the term.

Actually, considering the Freshman Senator from Minnesota, the "Franken" term may be apt. I mean, the guy just has to be an escaped genetic experiment gone horribly, horribly wrong. There's simply no other explanation for it.The psychotic aversion to genetically modified foods by some has festered into a hatred far out-distancing any held by a Klansman, Third Reich operative or Democrat Party strategist (but I repeat myself). Rather than being content in themselves to simply eat foods certified as not being genetically modified, these circus side-show rejects insist that nobody should ever risk being exposed to possible contamination from italicized words or genetically modified foods. It's as if these people think that Resident Evil was a real event and actually filmed in a greenhouse.

No scientific study outside the organichippie foods industry has ever shown genetically modified foods to be harmful. There's more danger from eating tofu seventeen meals per week, taking the massive injection of estrogen into your system; the lack of animal protein starving your brain of desperately-needed nutrients that our genetic makeup requires for proper neurological development.

Speaking of hippie foods, why do these organic food eating vegan hippie retard pull-out-method-failure protazoa-dicks care about genetically modified salmon? Perhaps, in their diminished capacity resulting from not having the genetically required animal protein for advanced brain development, their thinking process seems somehow logical to them. "I'd never eat an animal and don't think anyone ever should, but only non-genetically modified salmon should be on anyone's dinner table!"

Stop trying to think, mouth breather. You might hurt yourself.

Of course, that's the extreme case. There are people who aren't vegan who oppose genetically modified food. These people need to be given a free one-way ticket to Mogadishu so they can experience a world without genetically modified foods. Not because Somalis turn down GM foods, of course. "No, I'm sorry, Mr. Peacekeeper Man, but you must take this rice away. It does not have a 'No GM seed' stamp on it. My family and I choose to starve rather than accept the product of a successful genetic experiment."

Um... Yeah, that seems likely.

Reality check: Almost all foods we have today were genetically modified through selective breeding. There is no place on Earth without genetically modified foods. The only way to go without genetically modified foods is to not eat. Or, y'know, eat pond scum.

In just 500 years, corn (or maize to you liberal veggie-loving brain dysfunctional types) has more than doubled the size of the cobb and tripled the mass of the individual grain. Tomatoes are larger, juicier and more resistant to disease than when they were first cultivated. Cucumbers are larger (and are increasingly enjoyed by lesbians, fat chicks and Barney Frank). Cows have grown in size and calmed in demeanor since being domesticated, while sheep are increasingly more attracitve and compliant in sub-dom relationships. Banana trees grow bigger fruit clusters and produce larger fruit (intimidating even the most virile vegan men). All by genetic manipulation. Much of it done for thousands of years by simple farmers who wouldn't have known a DNA strand from my Uncle Herb's ass hair.

Somehow, this type of genetic modification is okay to the religious leaders of the Church of Organic Foods. As long as it takes place slowly and over many generations, it's invisible to them. Maybe since they can't see it or feel it, it's like it's not there. Maybe Medicaid should take the same viewpoint when these tofu-swilling morons end up with prostate cancer.

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12 September 2010

Resident Obama: Situation Room

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30 July 2010

Desperate Johnny

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09 July 2010

No Offense, Cracka, it's just Bidness

What y'all upset about?

Hmmm, I seem to have intercepted a strange communication;

I can see you're all upset about shit like this right here, where the NAACP is calling that Kenneth Gladney dude an "Uncle Tom" just 'cuz he don't "walk the walk" of a black man whose been victimized by society and can't get ahead 'cuz that same man, or "The Man" is keepin' the brother down.

Y'all got to understand, a person has to make a living, and being a Race Hustler is a competitive and demanding profession in 2010, what with all the damn equality and crap going on these days.

Now, a couple of the younger brothers might be getting a lil' out of hand lately with the death threats and attacks on some of y'all crackers, but you need to know, it's just bidness y'all. Aint nuthin but a thang!

Tell y'all what, you just help a brother out and it'll all go away. In other words, donate sucka!

Oh, and you might just wanna spread it around, my friends are hungry too.



Who the heck is this guy?

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08 July 2010

The Suck is Strong in This One


Markos (of Daily Kos) is whining about why PMBNBC doesn't like him, and supposedly banned his lame ass;

I've criticized Chris Matthews before, sometimes harshly, and it never led to me being banned. This was not about criticizing some random MSNBC host, but about criticizing the network's token conservative, a man who wilts in the face of the awesome power of Twitter and its 140-character limit. Morning Joe happens to be Griffin's pet project at MSNBC. He's staked his career on it, and as such, lets Scarborough call the shots -- to the point of having its least successful host dictate the guest list of its most successful one.


At least Markos admits one thing, MSNBC is all leftist hackery, except, apparently (allegedly) Scarborough. Oh, and of course, @Markos now, cuz he's friggin banned. heh

Wow, MSNBC won't have him, who's left that's left? Maybe Kos can get a gig at Logo?

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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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26 May 2010

A *ucktard, by any other name…

With the recent dearth of real issues to contend with in DC, the Senate Health, Education, Labor and Pensions Committee (wow, that goes together like Alcohol, Tobbacco and Firearms, doesn't it?) unanimously approved the bill that will, if passed, become Rosa’s Law. From The Hill:


Rosa’s Law, introduced by Sen. Barbara Mikulski (D-Md.), had strong bipartisan support.
It would replace the terms “mental retardation” with “intellectual disability” and “mentally retarded individual” to “individual with an intellectual disability.


It doesn’t take a Cro-Magnon to realize how much better off the American people are with the Senate tied up on issues like these. I mean they could be actively screwing us over like they did in December, remember?


But it does leave us with one nagging question. What do we call Joe Biden? Let’s face it, while “the intellectually disabled Joe Biden” does carry a smidgen of humor it will get old. Fast. Will the ‘tard suffix still be usable or will that be illegalized as well? If they take that away from us it eliminates several of my personal favorites!


We can always use the Wicked Witch of the West’s advice and “Wait till its passed to find out what’s in it” but I, for one, would like to have my adjectives prepped and ready to fire when needed. And we’re going to need them Monday when Biden opens the gaff-o-matic at Arlington.


I’m going to need the help of all the Progressive DoucheBag Watchers for this one. Open thread, have at it…

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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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