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My Name is Pinkie Obama!

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My fellow comrades:

Since arriving at The People's Cube, I have searched high and low and in vain for a last name, even fancying myself married to Ahmadinejad, Che, or Brad Pitt, with the idea of taking their names, un-Progressive and un-feminist as that is. At times I contemplated just settling for the single name "Pinkie", thus ranking myself in the same pantheon of other single-named women of greatness, like Cher and Madonna and--dare I whisper it--Hillary.

Oh, but I could scarcely consider myself worthy of such self-aggrandizement.

Then, on this momentous day, I finally hit upon the answer to my dilemma:

Suddenly, Their Name is The One to Have: Obama

WASHINGTON — Nicanor Obama began to realize he might be on to a good thing when he didn't get a speeding ticket not long ago. After stopping the 28-year-old for a little downtown Washington lead-footing, a District of Columbia police officer looked at his driver's license and put the citation book away.

"He said, 'Well, I'm going to let you go because you have the Obama name,' " is how the Arlington, Va., resident recalled the encounter.

Since Election Day, his moniker has sparked goodwill, from nightclub freebies to hearty handshakes from fellow students at the University of the District of Columbia, where he studies political science. "I'm not related to the president, but I think Obama is a good name to have right now."

Their lives might not have changed as dramatically as a certain Chicago-based Obama family, but non-Barack Obamas have been basking in a little low-watt glory of their own. Suddenly, having the most famous last name in the world means cashing a check, flashing an ID or making a dinner reservation might never be the same.
...

Nicanor Obama said he has been riding a small social wave that started Election Night, when he was waved under the rope line at a Washington nightclub with no cover charge. He was the toast of the delirious crowds that night, he said.

I SHALL BE PINKIE OBAMA!

Ohh, there goes that tingle up my leg again! Oh, sweet Obamagasm!

At long last, I am Someone of Consequence! Everyone will love me and give me things for free, because my last name is OBAMA!

Now I can park in handicapped slots, and next to fire hydrants!

No more of those degrading breathalyzer tests and having to play Olga Korbut on a line of chalk, because I got pulled over for driving drunk again.

No more spending my vacation at Disney's California Adventure because there are no long lines. Now I can go to the Magic Kingdom in Orlando, and straight to the head of every line!

No more of those annoying calls from creditors and the IRS. And when I pick up the phone to make a call, no more voice mail or idiots working out of New Delhi.

No more frowning cashiers and scowling servers and glowering sales clerks handing my credit card back to me with the words, "Sorry, ma'am, but I'm afraid it's been denied."

I don't care if you've only ever served hamburgers, and fifty million at that. If I come in here and sit down and demand London broil, you bring me London broil and be grateful for the honor! And get those screaming kids out of here.

Nor do I care if Al Gore once had to be randomly screened by the TSA. Who the hell is he now? My name is Pinkie Obama, and like hell I'll take off these shoes or give you my box cutter.

What do you mean, was my name changed legally? How'd you like to be subjected to a background investigation?

Best of all, everywhere I go, people will smile at me and throw themselves at my feet in abject worship, gushing, "We love you, Pinkie Obama! You've saved us! You've saved the whole world! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Yes, comrades . . . all this and more . . . for doing absolutely nothing.

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Commissarka Pinkie Obama! I am honoured to be the first to call you by that name!
May I offer you my vodka rations for the next month?

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We must fix this by reassigning everyone's last name to Obama. We are all Obama's children, therefore we must all bear his name. And we can't have lowly proles who just happen to have the same name as the Obamesiah get some of the free treatment that is strictly reserved for Party Members.

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I wish I had the last name of royalty. I am very jealous. This is worse than my class envy.

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As BIG CTG might say:

Yo, that's too long, why not shorten it like P Diddy did to sumthin' like Pink O?

In other news, a despondant Brad Pitt has been committed to a Hollywood psych ward and is under a suicide watch.
Film at 11.

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Commissarka Pinkie O

I am pleased to have been considered as a potential candidate for your new last name. I never would have guessed that you held me in such regard. You are probably better off with the big O's name, for it will command utmost respect from any progressive who hears or sees it in written form. I take it that your are not worried about the NTE, Michelle taking your name change to heart? I am sure that she knows that now that the New World of This Tuesday is upon us, that she will be sharing the Obamessiah with all. I give you my most hearty congratulations, and wish you many perks and privileges.

feeling your joy,

Che' Gourmet

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Long Live the Commissarka! Pinkie O

Am spray painting all shovels here at the collective in honor of this occasion; "Pinkie Pink".

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Good Day Commissar Che' Gourmet,

As Overseer of the People's Kitchen I'm sure you've been busy, but maybe time for a special treat for Commissarka?

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Grigori E.R. wrote:Good Day Commissar Che' Gourmet,

As Overseer of the People's Kitchen I'm sure you've been busy, but maybe time for [HIGHLIGHT=#ffff00]a special [/HIGHLIGHT][HIGHLIGHT=#ffff00]treat[/HIGHLIGHT] for Commissarka?

Good Day Grigori E.R.

Have you had a gastronomical vision, my dear seer? Yes..yes.. I have been extremely busy, but I can always find time to create something for the comely Commissarka Pinkie O.
She flatters me, and therefore I can deny her not. Tell her to call me on my personal communicator and I will be delighted to blast her tastebuds with whatever she wishes.

waiting for her choice with anticipation,

Che' Gourmet

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Ahhh Commissarka Pinkie (Obama) I too am having glorious “Leg Tingles” for you as well. I shall go out right now and steal, procure Champagne, Lobsters, Steaks and many other tasty delights for Che to whip up for a party in your honor. I shall even find those little Potato Balls, Perhaps Great and Kind Leader Commissar Theocritus as well as the rest of us can throw them to Bruno, so much fun watching him jump and beg for them.

I understand that Che had some problems last week, the Illegal Aliens, Errrr. kitchen staff were rounded up in an “ICE” raid all were hauled away. I had to drive all the way down to the home depot and round up a new crew. I stopped and the “Do it yourself car wash” and hosed them down. I know that Che gets a little pissed if they are not clean.

Oh this will be fun, perhaps we can have games!!!

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Bordgious, you gorgeous comrade! Yes, thank you very much for your vodka rations! I'll look forward to them every month from now on!

And Grigori, thank you for painting all the shovels Pinkie Pink! Such an honor is no more than I deserve.

Che, my favorite Gourmet, how about some champagne vodka and chocolate-covered beets, there's a good comrade!

Now what about the rest of you?? Where are my tributes? Don't you know who I am? I only hope for your wretched sakes you're all patriotic enough that you're caught up on your taxes, and that none of you call yourselves by your middle names. Middle names are nothing but evil bourgeois neo-con conventions.

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And for those of you still delinquent in your tributes to me, Pinkie Obama, I'd like to present for your consideration the sterling example of Red Star! Look what he's giving me! Now THAT comrade knows groveling! Let's see who can top that!

Already they're gushing on "The View" that red headscarves are flying off the shelves because all the women want to look like me!

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Thank you Kind and Lovely Commissarka:

If you have not noticed yet, I sent 12 Illegal Aliens working comrades to your Dacha, to rake the leaves, mow your grass, wash the windows, and give you a back rub. I lifted Chairman Meows wallet. I recently had a wind fall of cash. If there is anything else we can do for you Kind Lovable Adorable Commissarka, if there is an endangered species bothering you, we'll wipe it out. If there is a Comrade angering Just let me or cat I call Fluffy know, we will deal with them...

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A windfall of cash? By all means blow it my way, Comrade Red Star! That would be the patriotic thing to do.

Also, I've heard so much about the so-called Faberge Eggs that are reputed to be quite rare and priceless. That being the case, I think I'd like to be served two for breakfast each morning. Do you think you could do that for a long lost member of The One's extended family? You need only find them; I'm sure Che Gourmet could perform mouth-watering miracles with them.

And what about the rest of you? Why are you all being so quiet? Why are you not giving me free things? Why are you not soiling yourselves at the very thought of being in my presence? Are you all racist and stupid? Do I detect insane rage?

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Kind and Lovely Commissarka: I am getting right on the Theft of Faberge Eggs. I am sure there are a few that can be borrowed. Cat I call Fluffy is Scouting for them as I write.

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Commissarka Pinkie wrote:A windfall of cash? By all means blow it my way, Comrade Red Star! That would be the patriotic thing to do.

Also, I've heard so much about the so-called Faberge Eggs that are reputed to be quite rare and priceless. That being the case, I think I'd like to be served two for breakfast each morning. Do you think you could do that for a long lost member of The One's extended family? You need only find them; [HIGHLIGHT=#ffff00]I'm sure Che Gourmet could perform [/HIGHLIGHT][HIGHLIGHT=#ffff00]mouth-watering [/HIGHLIGHT][HIGHLIGHT=#ffff00]miracles with them.
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And what about the rest of you? Why are you all being so quiet? Why are you not giving me free things? Why are you not soiling yourselves at the very thought of being in my presence? Are you all racist and stupid? Do I detect insane rage?

Greetings Commissarka Pinkie O

While I will try my best (anything for you, gorgeous) to cook whatever you desire, I must point out that those so-called Faberge Eggs are unedible, unless you are fond of eating gems, gold and the like. By all means, send Comrade Red Star to find as many (there are 54 known to still be in existence) as possible, for those eggs are worth a big fortune. I'm sure that Comrade Grigori E.R. would have most valuable intell on this subject, as he served the Czar Nicholas at the time the fantastic eggs were crafted. They truly are wonderous, so I recommend that you beef-up your dacha's security should Comrade Red Star be successful. We have more than our fair share of opportunists(thieves) here.

Have a most pleasant day my lovely Commisarka, and please keep me apprised of
your quest.

I will be taking preferred reservations for the opening of the newest, soon to be famous Lucretia Borgia People's Restaurant

Che' Gourmet

PS No need for you to make one, (with your new prestigious name), my comely Commisarka!
You will always have a standing reservation in any restaurant under my command.

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Commissarka Pinkie wrote:Ohh, there goes that tingle up my leg again! Oh, sweet Obamagasm!

At long last, I am Someone of Consequence! Everyone will love me and give me things for free, because my last name is OBAMA!

Now I can park in handicapped slots, and next to fire hydrants!

No more of those degrading breathalyzer tests and having to play Olga Korbut on a line of chalk, because I got pulled over for driving drunk again.

No more spending my vacation at Disney's California Adventure because there are no long lines. Now I can go to the Magic Kingdom in Orlando, and straight to the head of every line!

No more of those annoying calls from creditors and the IRS. And when I pick up the phone to make a call, no more voice mail or idiots working out of New Delhi.

No more frowning cashiers and scowling servers and glowering sales clerks handing my credit card back to me with the words, "Sorry, ma'am, but I'm afraid it's been denied."

I don't care if you've only ever served hamburgers, and fifty million at that. If I come in here and sit down and demand London broil, you bring me London broil and be grateful for the honor! And get those screaming kids out of here.

Nor do I care if Al Gore once had to be randomly screened by the TSA. Who the hell is he now? My name is Pinkie Obama, and like hell I'll take off these shoes or give you my box cutter.

What do you mean, was my name changed legally? How'd you like to be subjected to a background investigation?

Best of all, everywhere I go, people will smile at me and throw themselves at my feet in abject worship, gushing, "We love you, Pinkie Obama! You've saved us! You've saved the whole world! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Yes, comrades . . . all this and more . . . for doing absolutely nothing.

Wouldn't it have been cheaper and perhaps easier to pass yourself off as the Chairman? It wouldn't be like the first time the Chairman had been spotted in female attire. For that matter, you could just say you are from the Office of the Chairman. Works for me whenever I want something really bad.

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My dearest devoted Che Gourmet, I do indeed mean to break my fast on the Faberge eggs. For does the real Obamessiah not shit gold? Are his kidney and gallstones not precious gems to be prized by anyone fortunate enough to have them pass into their grabby, grubby hands?

Pupovich, the Chairman fancies himself as one of the Kennedys. I see myself as one of the Obamas, the new royal house. You might say the Obamas have supplanted the Kennedys, rather like the Bonapartes did the Bourbons.

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Finally, a name befitting the magnificence of your magnificence. And now my Commissarka, with a righteous wind at your back all things good will flow your way. I would grovel but you shut me out earlier, so I will just bask in your radiance. Yes a new radiance is about you.

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Commissarka Pinkie O
Though not original (I'm still making some calls) may this Faberge Egg continue the glorius procession of tribute:

The Pink Quartz Egg
Inspired by The Bouquet of Lilies Clock Egg given to the Empress Alexandra Fedorovna by Tsar Nicholas II in 1899, The Pink Quartz Egg takes its styling from the Bouquet of Lilies Egg, but is not intended as a reproduction of it.

Image The Pink Quartz Egg is hand carved of Pink Quartz, mounted on a base of beveled edge onyx covered with scrolls of gold. The supports and the segment dividers are also gold as is the band representing the clock face. The hours are marked by cabachons of pink quartz. Rising from the apex of the Egg is a surround of roses set with cabachon rubies. The Lilies are hand carved amethysts and hand carved rock crystals with pistils of citrines and leaves of hand carved jade. The Egg on its pedestal stands 12 inches tall. All of the gold is 23 karat plate over sterling silver. This strikingly beautiful work of art is a limited edition totaling 50 pieces world wide.

Your Humble Spiritual Advisor,
Grigori E.R.

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Pupovich, the Chairman fancies himself as one of the Kennedys. I see myself as one of the Obamas, the new royal house. You might say the Obamas have supplanted the Kennedys, rather like the Bonapartes did the Bourbons.

Ah, dear Pinkie, apple of the collective eye. How delightful you have settled on a proper surname, and one with such possibilities. Consider:
--His Obamaness likes to be compared to JFK (And FDR and LBJ and JVD)
--JFK was married to a perfect woman, held in high esteem by all perfect women
--This perfect woman went on after JFK's assassination to marry Ari Onasis, earning the hip and trendy sobriquet of "Jackie O."

Thus it seems to me, that in the quest for the perfect name, perhaps the full style and precedence should be "Pinkuline Bouvier Kennedy Obama," to be known and loved by all as simply "Pinkie O." (I smell a like of designer scents and handbags in this...)

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My Most Beautiful Commisarka,
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Michelle gets some bling!

Despite her numerous unwitting attempts to foil her husbands' run at the White House, President-elect Barack Obama said thanks to Michelle the only way a normal guy (just like you) would -- with diamonds. Not just any diamond, either. Barack went for some serious bling. Still ashamed of the country Michelle -- or are you no longer bitter while clinging to your bling? Check out the rock Mr. 'man of the people' gave Michelle.

I just found out about this. I guess Michelle, our new NTE, wasn't too happy when she heard that you were to become one of the family. What a jealous witch.....the ring is huge, and it cost plenty of rubles too. Wouldn't anyone be happy with this kind of bling?

planning the Show Trial after-party,

Che' Gourmet

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Red Star wrote:Kind and Lovely Commissarka: I am getting right on the Theft of Faberge Eggs. I am sure there are a few that can be borrowed. Cat I call Fluffy is Scouting for them as I write.

Please ensure, good comrade the cat is named Fluffy, but the fluffy omelette for our beloved Pinkie will remain free of feline protein...

My dearest Commissarka, I am heartbroken while overjoyed...heartbroken that I was not the first to seize upon the thread, and cough up a host of gifts and accolades for your enjoyment and edification. No failthful servant of the party deserves it more! And overjoyed because you are finally beginning to receive just a down payment on all you deserve and more. Allow me to rub my cute furry body up against your tingling leg and share your pleasure at the coming delight of Next Tuesday!

And now the most purrfect present for a deserving Commissarka worthy for the One: the Laika edition KosmoKar!

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(Voice of Don Pardo)
Yes, Pinkie, you will be the first in your prefectorate to glide down the highway with a deluxe Laika Edition by KosmoKar. This technological wonder provides the finest in luxury and announces that you travel with the 'Inner Circle' in style as you arrive at state dinners, or merely step out on the town for for stewed beets and borscht.

Equipped with an AM radio and LaikaSpeakTM telemetry, you alone can communicate real-time with our beloved space canine while cruising in politically reliable comfort. A special red-phone with a single 'O' button enables you to dial the White House to contact Barry whenever you have a question or need he can fulfill. A fully-functional Sputnik satellite with launcher allows you to detect thoughtcrime around the globe, or tune in to subscription movie channels. There is even a spacious trunk - larger than most dachas - for your collection of designer shovels, 6 to 8 political prisoners, or a recalcitrant Michelle. It's perfect, Pinkie, just like you.

And it's yours!

There, now perhaps I have begun to show my true appreciation for your beauty, grace and wit, my dearest Pinkie!

Top that, you shovelheads!

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Oh, Mousey-Tongue, it's beautiful! Oh, you are the cat's meow! The cat's pajamas! The puss's boots, the kitty's titties. You are THE CAT. Jump up on my lap, and know that I don't say that to just anyone. But mind you don't leave any cat hair, or it'll be off to the violin string factory with you. (Speaking of which, I wouldn't mind owning a Strad. Always wanted to play the fiddle and learn clogging.)

And Grigori! Twelve inches! I've read that about you, you old scoundrel, but--oh wait . . .

The Egg on its pedestal stands 12 inches tall.

Oops, must've read that wrong, or perhaps my keen, thoughtful intellect, so like Cousin Barry's, was wandering to great lengths. You meant The Egg! What a silly goose I am. Which gives me an idea: It stands to reason that an egg that big must come from a very big goose.

So who among you can bring me The Goose That Lays Faberge Eggs? No hemming and hawing and shuffling of feet now. I'm an Obama!

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Brilliant move with the name, Pinkie O.

I'd do the same, but Cradle-to-Grave-Marxist Obama is redundant and already trademarked by some politician in DC.

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The most amazing Fabrage Egg I ever heard of was one the last Nicholas presented to his wife that actually had a working locomotive train crossing the Trans Siberian Railroad inside!


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Outstanding Commissarka! I had no idea the train was as big as that.

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Premier Betty wrote:We must fix this by reassigning everyone's last name to Obama. We are all Obama's children, therefore we must all bear his name. And we can't have lowly proles who just happen to have the same name as the Obamesiah get some of the free treatment that is strictly reserved for Party Members.

Image Brilliant!

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Premier Betty wrote:We must fix this by reassigning everyone's last name to Obama. We are all Obama's children, therefore we must all bear his name. And we can't have lowly proles who just happen to have the same name as the Obamesiah get some of the free treatment that is strictly reserved for Party Members.

I will have to pass on this.... lest one forget the way we progressives can turn and eat our own. Now of course I am all for a Cult of Personality, provided I am that personality.

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Marshal Pupovich wrote:Now of course I am all for a Cult of Personality, provided I am that personality.

That would be the "I Denounce Marshal Pupovich" thread. ----------------------------------------->

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Oh, that silly thing? Why you need to go see where I denounced myself, or the other trials I have undergone. Poor Commissar Theocritus, just hasn't been the same since Hillary, Nancy, and the Chairman used to use the Commissar, and his home, in the most unsavory manners. But I am sure the Obama and his cohorts will soon discover the "joys" that can be found in the Commissar's back rooms, and the Commissar will once again "feel their need" the way he used to feel the Empress' cloven hooves.


 
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