Farewell To President Bush

Theocritus, did you remember to mention the part about the mandatory testicular vice apparatus?
 

Rex, I'm a bit uncertain. Testicular vice sounds like something that our first black President, Mr. Clinton had. Testicular vise sounds like something that Our Many Titted Empress has.

For the man with the testicular vice.
 

D'ough
There is always strings attached.
I knew it!
 

c and s, I alwayc get thoce sonfuced.
 

Me too. Once I called Our Many Titted Empress a sunt, and a Latin professor chimed in, "Yes, they are!"
 

How can you capitalist pigs like bush, he fucked up our economy, and got us into 2 horrible wars, how can you still like him?
 

anactualcomrade

How can you capitalist pigs like bush, he fucked up our economy, and got us into 2 horrible wars, how can you still like him?
 

anactualcomrade, you are are so right.

Although the credit crisis was caused by Fannie Mae buying bad loans, Bush was at the back of it. Even though Jimmy Carter started the law and Roberta Achtenberg and Janet Reno of the Clinton Administration pressed for mortgages which couldn't be repaid. And Our Blessed President, on returning to Chicago, was hired by Madeline Talbot, the director of Chicago's ACORN, to train her troops in community organizing.

Such a mensch! These ACORN people threatened the wives and children of mortgage lenders to make these bad, but utterly necessary, loans, and Barney Frank and Chris Dodd got Fannie Mae to buy the loans.

And all the while George W. Bush wasn't even president. So he must be responsible.

And for those two horrible wars. I have on good authority that all the votes for the wars, the votes for, by Democrats, were actually fraudulent votes, just like the Florida 2000 election was fraudulent. Because good Democrat shock troops couldn't go behind closed doors to get what they want.

And Bush is still responsible because the stimulus bill is being called an Emergency Measure, and so the Republicans aren't allowed to review it. And even though Barack Obama ("We'll start following our ethical standards soon") let Nancy Pelosi write a bill which will have his name on it, it's Bush's fault.

And most of all, it's Bush's fault that Saddam Hussein's abbatoir has been shut down. You know, the rotating knives with a truck underneath that he and his sons would throw inconvenient people into.

Yes. It's all Bush's fault. I quite agree. What an evil, horrible man.
 

anactualcomrade

How can you capitalist pigs like bush, he fucked up our economy, and got us into 2 horrible wars, how can you still like him?

Actually, comrade, it's quite easy. To paraphrase Lauren Bacall, "You just put your lips together and blow!"
 

anactualcomrade

How can you capitalist pigs like bush, he fucked up our economy, and got us into 2 horrible wars, how can you still like him?





As Obamissar of Gulags, I nominate this Comrade for Platform 11, which leads straight to the Gulag for Trolls. However, I do not have an Obamissar's Magic Wand yet...

-OV
 

Just use that stick that's been stuck in that rotting corpse over there. it should work just as fine.
 

Vodkavich

Obamissar's Magic Wand

No one does. That's a boogie-man story.
 

Eeeeewwww....
 

Commissar Theocritus

Vodkavich

Obamissar's Magic Wand

No one does. That's a boogie-man story.

...which man?

(see thread on Obamah products)
 

Rex, that sound you here is this confused Commissar with an index finger on each temple. Obama's magic wand...using Obama's magic wand.

I see Keith Olbermann. I see Chris Matthews. I see knee pads...
 

Commissar Theocritus

I see Keith Olbermann. I see Chris Matthews. I see knee pads...


Lined with extra thick layers of Kevlar, I hope.
 

Double-duty Kevlar. They can vacation in Pahrump, Nevada, where they can give master classes.
 

Commissar Theocritus

Rex, that sound you here is this confused Commissar with an index finger on each temple. Obama's magic wand...using Obama's magic wand.

I see Keith Olbermann. I see Chris Matthews. I see knee pads...

sorry, bad joke, and far too subtle. So here, I'll explain it and take all the humor away.

Vodkavich said "Obamissar's Magic Wand" from which my mind immediately leaped to the earlier discussion about certain, um, inappropriate Obama products which were constructed by a well-known proprietor of Jessica's Well.

Then that same proprietor said that this Magic Wand was a "boogie-man" story from which my mind leapt to the other more nuanced meaning of the word "boogie" as in "to boogie" or "boogie down" or "boogie in your butt" (Eddie Murphy); to which I asked obscurely "which man?" as in which man would be getting boogied by the Obamissar's Magic Wand.

So, anyway, too subtly perverse for my own good, I guess and now I'm hoisted on my own canard.
 

Ah. Sorry. The Obamado was just about my only outing in PS. And I'm not the proprietor of Jessica's Well, only the most obnoxious one there. See? I'm a good progressive. I make noise and don't do the heavy lifting. Ask Red Square.

Since I am of the opinion that His O'liness has Nanners' arm all the way to the elbow up his butt, does the Obamdo ring the changes on Onanism? It certainly redefines autoencephaloproctology.
 

I second Betty, Obamissar of Ewwwww...

So you're telling me that none of you Big Mighty "real" Commissars have wands that can edit other people's douchebaggery into the Gulag for Trolls?!! Just what makes y'all so freakin Progressive?!?! A lot of big talk and nothin' to back it up, huh?? You remind me of The One trying to pimp the PORKulus... I guess it's true what they say- pimpin' ain't easy. Well since Big Mighty "real" Commissar powers are just figments of ass-boogie (Thanks, Rex, for the pervisons. The man is Everyman, btw) I will take the one from that dead man over there since it will do just as much good.

Congratulations to Theo for not doing the heavy lifting. I guess he's the only psuedoREAL Commissar here.

To recap: It's Progressive to talk smack and then not do anything UNLESS it's advancing the Progressive agenda that doesn't get done, in which case it's just lame, UNLESS it's Theo or the third Thursday of the month, or Labor day when we all don't work, or if Nanners has a pimple on one of her ass cheeks.... Hmmmm...

-OV
 

Nanners with a pimple on her ass---EEEWWWWW! There. I did it.

Vodkavich, there is a wand in my house but a just what fairy do you think is going to wave it? Hmmm? I tread the line. I'm closer to the diesel dyke with steel-toed drillers' boots than I am the queen with his elbows handcuffed behind his back. But the reason that you can tell I'm not a dyke is that I grew my own tool and didn't buy it NAPA or Tractor Supply Store.
 

Commissar Theocritus

Vodkavich, there is a wand in my house but a just what fairy do you think is going to wave it? Hmmm? I tread the line.

Now that's the kind of subtle humor I'm talkin' about.
 

Obamissar Vodkavich

... or if Nanners has a pimple on one of her ass cheeks.... Hmmmm...


In which case Bruno has to work. It's his job to "attend" to Nanner's ass pimples. Hopefully there will be no more like that monster-sized one she had the last time she was at Theo's Rancho del Rio Grande. *shudder* I can't even think about that much less talk further about it. I'll have to let Theo take over from here and explain the rest.

--
 

Quote:

But the reason that you can tell I'm not a dyke is that I grew my own tool and didn't buy it NAPA or Tractor Supply Store.


So what you're saying is, you don't have a SnapOn tool.
 

No, they're the sponsors of Martina Navratilova.

I have heard though that there is research done in the Clinton Library on this subject, allowing people to choose their own SnapOn tools. Gennifer Flowers said, "Hillary Clinton has fat ankles and her husband has a small penis and they'll just have to learn to live with their imperfections."
 

Fairy waving wand... Very nice comrades!!! A nominee for Obamissar of puns?
 

Zampolit, why did you bring up that pimple again? I had repressed it. In fact I had to have therapy to overcome the hysterical blindness. But it's all come back in gory detail.

One time Nanners was here at the Rancho, practicing her ventriloquism act with Bonnie Fwank. He prefers having her hand up his ass to make his mouth move to say Teddy's fat paw. I know that the nails are a danger but it's in general more comfortable, according to Bonnie, than Teddy. (By the way, one of the provisions in the Porculus Maximus Bill is $50M for research to make dummies computer powered so that their upper lips move.)

The sight was, well, gruesome. And this was not helped by Our Many Titted Empress being passed out in her own sick all the time and on my best Persian carpets too. Of course. Would she stay in the sluice-down room? No, even though I built is just for her. She'd start heaving, just like a cat, and run, just like a cat, to the middle of my best carpet.

Nansky kept walking with that curious stilted gait she has. You know, those tiny steps that make me think she was foot-bound. Each day it looked like she was growing a third buttock. She didn't notice it of course, because it wasn't OPM, but kept scratching it on the doorways. She'd back up to a doorway and scratch, and scratch and scratch, and even rubbed the paint off a couple of them.

"Hill, dear, I think there's something wrong with my ass," Nanners complained. "What do you do when you ass hurts?"

"I made him attend cabinet meetings," she snorted, licking her right tusk.

"Look at this, Hill," Nanners said, and pulled down her pants.

And there it was. It looked like an eggplant on a partially deflated beach ball. Nanners kept picking at it.

Our MTE snorted and dug her trotters into my carpet and an evil glint came into her tiny red eyes. "You ought to get Commissar Theocritus to pop it."

"Empress! After what I've done for you? After the way I've massaged your back? After the way I've used a diamond file on your hooves? How could you?"

"Theocritus, pop Nanners' pimple. NOW!"

I could not do it, comrades, I just could not do it.

"Empress, I have an idea. Let's play a game. I promise I'll get it popped."

I went to the home theater where Bruno was watching Moulin Rouge, for the eighth time. "Bruno! We're going to play a game! I've got a piñata!"

"Goody! Goody! Goody!"

So I blindfolded Bruno and gave him a bat, and led him to Nanners, and told him to swing. Since the bat was not expensive Nanners just didn't register that it was there. Bruno swung, and missed. He swung. And missed.

He swung, and hit. That pimple popped and blew out a wall, and the greasewood and sagebrush beyond the wall still haven't grown back.

And I because hysterically blind, and when Meow saw that, everything else in my house disappeared. Except of course Bruno.