Yes, I was kidnapped by the Obama campaign in the dead of night! Well, actually, it happened in the morning if memory serves, but still!
I WAS KIDNAPPED BY THE OBAMA CAMPAIGN!
Never before in my life have I ever been so terrified – with the exception of shaving Mr. Reno's legs, making pilgrimages with Nancy to her OB-GYN and, of course, popping the boils on Her Excellency's bloated wart-laden ass. It happened so quickly and it was absolutely so terrifying that… that… I can't really talk about until after the Iowa caucus and when I have face-time with Barbra Walters. Oh, and Mike Wallace too (is he still in the news business? And can I get some time on 60 Minutes if at all possible?).
Anyways, it started around 6:30 in the morning when I was rummaging through Mr. Obama's garbage cans outside his palatial Chicago penthouse. I was personally sent by the Clinton campaign to see to it that Mr. Obama was properly recycling his banking statements and whatever other personal information he has which needs to be recycled, which is for the environment and the Children, of course. I mean, it's not like I was out there in the freezing cold going through his garbage looking for dirt on him or anything. Sheesh, I work for the Clinton campaign and we are above that kind of stuff!
So, I was out there, you know, making sure he was recycling when I came across a phone number from his local library. So I'm standing out there in the freezing cold with this phone number thinking that maybe, just maybe, Mr. Obama had some trouble with this local library and, well, I decided to give them a call – and I called them not for political reasons or to find dirt on Mr. Obama since the Clinton campaign is OBVIOUSLY above that kind of politics!
I gave it a few rings waiting for someone to hopefully answer – it was 6:30 in the morning if memory serves me…
Librarian: Hello, this is Tricia speaking, how can I help you?
Me: Tricia? Didn't I sleep with you before?
Librarian: Excuse me!?
Me: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Umm, yes, is this the Chicago Public Library?
Librarian: Why yes it is, sir. Can I help you with something?
Me: Uh, well, for starters you can tell me why you're open so early. I mean, aren't you unionized or something? I have never ever called a publicly funded institution before that was open this early! I mean this alone is insulting.
Librarian: Sir, do you have a real question for me or are you another crank-caller looking for kicks because I don't really have time for this and I have a lot of books I have to put on the shelves.
Me: Yes, I do have a question and you can just shut the Hell up and trouble someone else with your woes about “work” and “responsibility” which I'm totally against, mind you, and…
Librarian: Sir, this conversation is over. Goodbye.
I couldn't believe this little peon just hung up on me! How dare she hang up on me! Doesn't she know that I am Chairman Meowsevitch S. Punchenko!? Well, actually, I didn't tell her who I was and thank goodness I didn't because it appeared at the time that I would have to make a personal trip to the Chicago Public Library to find out for myself what Mr. Obama was hiding. And what indeed was he hiding? Did he kill someone, perhaps? Or, maybe he raped a librarian there or something. Yes, I had to get down to the library right away and find out what exactly Mr. Obama was hiding – which, again, is not for any political gain on behalf of the Clinton campaign and in no way was I sent to Chicago to dig up dirt on Obama to use during the New Hampshire primary. I'm saying that for the record, folks, so that no one will accuse Hillary of sending me to dig up dirt – which I'm not doing, of course.
It wasn't long before I arrived at the library since I had my handy-dandy supped up Hummer with me. Sure, I might have hit a few pedestrians along the way but there are always casualties when I'm behind the wheel drunk, stoned and fondling three hookers I happened upon along the way. And yes, I did decide to park inside the library since obviously there was no other place to park except for the handicap spot, and unfortunately for me I'm neither handicap or had my handicap parking pass on me at the time. It was then when I was approached by a rent-a-cop who had the audacity to question me since I parked my Hummer inside the library.
Rent-a-cop: GET OUT OF THE VEHICLE NOW, SIR! THE POLICE ARE ON THERE WAY!
Me: It's all right, officer. You can put your flash-light down since I am clearly not armed.
Rent-a-cop: SIR! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW! I WILL USE THE TASER IF YOU FORCE ME TO!
Me: Do you know who I am!?
Rent-a-cop: SIR! I SAID GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!
Me: I'm warning you, kid. Don't mess with me.
Rent-a-cop: SIR! THE POLICE ARE ON THERE WAY!
Me: I AM THE POLICE! I AM AMERICA! I AM A KENNEDY! YOU HEAR ME! I AM A KENNEDY!
It didn't take long for the rent-a-cop's face to turn white when I told him that I was Kennedy. But, judging by his posture it seemed that me evoking the Kennedy title was not enough to disarm this rent-a-cop of his lethal electric taser and trusty flash-light.
Rent-a-cop: Sir, it doesn't matter if you are a Kennedy. You have rammed your vehicle through the front entrance, do you understand me! You have killed three bystanders after ramming your vehicle through the front entrance, do you understand me!
Obviously this kid wasn't going to shut the Hell up and I had to take drastic measures.
Me: I WORK FOR MAYOR DALEY!
Rent-a-cop: <gasp> I'm so sorry, sir! I'm so sorry! Here, allow me to help you out of the vehicle, sir! Oh, I'll call the station and let them know you work for da Mare and that everything is OK here.
Me: You're damn right you will help me out of my vehicle! Now get down on the ground and act like a step, for Gore's sake! I'm on top of all this rubble and crap – scared completely of my mind – and you want to shout at me and stuff.
Rent-a-cop: I'm so sorry, sir! I'm so sorry! Please don't fire me! Please! Here, step down on my back…
Me: No! I'm not going to step down on just you! Look how high up I am and how low to the ground you are! Now get those dead mangled bodies and build me a little stair case made of you and those dead people!
Rent-a-cop: Sir, you're only a few feet from the ground and…
Me: DO IT!
The rent-a-cop knew now who was in charge and it was clearly me. I should've known that Daley's name would get me around much quicker in Chicago than dropping Kennedy‘s name which only works in Massachusetts, California and parts of Florida. The rent-a-cop – who was just so very helpful – wasted no time at all in pulling the dead bodies of the bystanders to construct me a set of stairs to step down on. I mean, how was I going to get down when my Hummer was atop the masonry, steel and glass that made up the former façade of the library? How I ask you? What, am I just suppose to be stuck up there on top of that mountain of rubble and slowly die of thirst!? No, I think not and I'm forever indebted to that security guard and the dead bystanders who saved me from certain doom. So now that I was in library – and that my Hummer was parked close by so I wouldn't spend hours aimlessly looking for it in a sea of cars – I carefully made my way to the front desk where I found the skittish librarian that I talked to earlier.
Me: <rings> Toots! Over here, toots! <rings>.
Librarian: Sir, I'm standing right here.
Me: I'm surprised you are with all things considered. I mean, you would think this place would have evacuated after I decided to park my Hummer, well, you know.
Librarian: We are under strict orders not to leave when a functionary of Mayor Daley's arrives.
Me: Of course, of course. I can understand that. Now then, I need everything you have on Barack Obama here.
Librarian: May I inquire for what purpose you need this.
Me: Uhh, yeah, you see… uhh… the Mayor's office needs everything on him to prevent the Clinton campaign from using it as campaign fodder in New Hampshire which, mind you, the Clinton campaign would never under any circumstances engage in that kind of politics.
Librarian: OK? Well, he checked out a book back in 1984 which was never returned.
Me: Oh really! Is that so! Well now, that is certainly not good!
Librarian: I don't know about that. I mean, people forget to bring back books sometimes and we wanted to…
Me: Shh! Say no more, my child. You have greatly helped out the Clinton campaign with this information and I am more than happy to reward you with dinner, tonight, 8:00 sound good?
Librarian: Excuse me!?
Me: I know you would love to have dinner with me for your silence – that is, of course, if you pay the bill because I really…
Librarian: What!? No! I'm not having dinner with you and you just got done saying that you worked for the Mayor and that you needed that information to prevent the Clinton campaign from using something like that!
Me: Oh, uhh, we aren't using it for that. Goodness gracious! How silly! I don't work for the Clinton campaign and if I did we wouldn't stoop to that low!
Librarian: Sir, I'm entirely lost.
Me: Dinner? Tonight? You pay of course.
Librarian: No! No! No! I'm not having dinner with you and I'm calling the Obama campaign to tell them that you were here snooping! You and the Clinton campaign should be ashamed of yourselves, especially after digging up stuff regarding Obama in Kindergarten! How desperate are you people!?
This librarian was becoming bit of a problem and Hillary doesn't like problems. I had no choice but to act so that Hillary would be protected.
Me: Miss. I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me now.
Librarian: Oh my God! Is that a gun! This is a gun-free zone, sir! A gun-free zone!
Me: Turn around and walk out quietly. Do you have a car?
Librarian: Yes, I have a Ford Taurus outside.
Me: WHAT!? I CAN'T BE SEEN IN A TAURUS! What else do you have!? Surely there must be a nicer vehicle around here somewhere!? A Bentley or a Rolls, something! Tipper H. Gore! Me? In a Taurus? AGAIN!? NEVER! NEVER!
Librarian: Please don't shoot me!
Me: I should shoot you! I should shoot you for not owning a nice enough vehicle for me to kidnap you with! My Gore, if I were seen in a Taurus again I think I will die, yes, I would just die of embarrassment!
Librarian: What are you talking about!? Please! I don't want to die!
Me: Well, I don't want to be seen in a Ford Taurus again. Ugh, Commissar Roscoe… it's a long story lady and, well, I don't have time for this! Here, we'll take the library's van and I'll stay in the back! You'll drive!
Librarian: OK, OK, just please don't shoot me. Please!
Me: OK, put on these Obama stickers all over your blouse and help me tie this rope around my legs. Now then, I want you to drive real fast and if you don't I will shoot you, got it!?
Librarian: Yes! OK! Shouldn't you be tying me up?
Me: No! I offered you dinner and now you want sex too on top of it!? What kind of depraved librarian are you!?
Librarian: Huh?
Me: Just tie me up, dammit, and drive!
Librarian: OK! OK!
Me: Now step on it and swerve or else I'll shoot you!
Librarian: OK! Please don't shoot me!
It didn't take long until the police finally started chasing after us. I mean, I had this librarian doing 80 and running through every red light, she was a gem! Since the police were on to us it was time to plan my escape so I instructed the librarian to pull over and I placed duct-tape partially over my mouth.
Police: Get out of the vehicle, miss! Put your hands over your head!
Me: Help! Help! I've been kidnapped and she's armed! She's armed!
I squeezed off one round and then I immediately grabbed the librarian's hand and placed the gun firmly in her grip as she screamed.
Me: Help! She is shooting! She is shooting!
Police: Everyone get down! Miss, put the gun down and step out of the van!
Librarian: OK! I'm coming out! I'm innocent!
Me: No she isn't! She kidnapped me! She is an Obama staffer!
Police: Miss, get out now and place you hands over your head!
Librarian: OK, I'm coming out now.
The librarian made her way out and fell to the ground as a swarm of Chicago's finest swooped down on her.
Police: Sir, are you OK?
Me: Yes, yes, I'm fine. I'm a little shook up but I'll be fine.
Police: Were you kidnapped by this woman, sir?
Me: Yes, yes, I was kidnapped by her. She is a deranged Obama staffer and she tried to kidnap me after I told her I was working for Mayor Daley and, more importantly, Hillary Clinton.
Police: You work for da Mare?
Me: Yes, yes I do. And I want this woman placed behind bars for life! I also want you to keep her away from the media and I want you to get some reporters down here A.S.A.P.
Police: Yes, sir! Anything for da Mare's office!
The media was all over the place and a pack of reporters were all over me asking for my story.
Reporter: Mr. Punchenko, why did this woman kidnap you and what did she want?
Me: Well obviously she is a deranged Obama staffer trying to stop Hillary from winning by kidnapping innocent aides like me. Clearly Obama, the Republicans and gun-owners are all working together to stop Hillary from delivering affordable healthcare to the masses and from bringing the troops home. And… and… I am the victim in this and Hillary, of course, is the biggest victim in this and I refuse to answer any more questions until Barbra or Mike interviews me.
Reporter: How did you stop this deranged Obama staffer and how did you get her to surrender?
Me: It was hard. Luckily for me I had Hillary's book Living History ($35.99 - Buy now!!) with me at the time and I read passages to this deranged Obama staffer about how great a woman Hillary is and what a fine president she will make for the American people. I mean, Hillary is the real hero here and I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for her.
Me: That's all the questions I wish answer right now and I will remind you all that Barack Obama forgot to turn in a book back in 1984. Oh, and feel free to make that a headline too. Thank you.
So that is how it all happened, Comrades, and I just can't believe the Obama campaign would do such a thing. It's just shameful! SHAMEFUL! I missed a show-trial because of this and I for one am suing the Obama campaign!
I WAS KIDNAPPED BY THE OBAMA CAMPAIGN!
Never before in my life have I ever been so terrified – with the exception of shaving Mr. Reno's legs, making pilgrimages with Nancy to her OB-GYN and, of course, popping the boils on Her Excellency's bloated wart-laden ass. It happened so quickly and it was absolutely so terrifying that… that… I can't really talk about until after the Iowa caucus and when I have face-time with Barbra Walters. Oh, and Mike Wallace too (is he still in the news business? And can I get some time on 60 Minutes if at all possible?).
Anyways, it started around 6:30 in the morning when I was rummaging through Mr. Obama's garbage cans outside his palatial Chicago penthouse. I was personally sent by the Clinton campaign to see to it that Mr. Obama was properly recycling his banking statements and whatever other personal information he has which needs to be recycled, which is for the environment and the Children, of course. I mean, it's not like I was out there in the freezing cold going through his garbage looking for dirt on him or anything. Sheesh, I work for the Clinton campaign and we are above that kind of stuff!
So, I was out there, you know, making sure he was recycling when I came across a phone number from his local library. So I'm standing out there in the freezing cold with this phone number thinking that maybe, just maybe, Mr. Obama had some trouble with this local library and, well, I decided to give them a call – and I called them not for political reasons or to find dirt on Mr. Obama since the Clinton campaign is OBVIOUSLY above that kind of politics!
I gave it a few rings waiting for someone to hopefully answer – it was 6:30 in the morning if memory serves me…
Librarian: Hello, this is Tricia speaking, how can I help you?
Me: Tricia? Didn't I sleep with you before?
Librarian: Excuse me!?
Me: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Umm, yes, is this the Chicago Public Library?
Librarian: Why yes it is, sir. Can I help you with something?
Me: Uh, well, for starters you can tell me why you're open so early. I mean, aren't you unionized or something? I have never ever called a publicly funded institution before that was open this early! I mean this alone is insulting.
Librarian: Sir, do you have a real question for me or are you another crank-caller looking for kicks because I don't really have time for this and I have a lot of books I have to put on the shelves.
Me: Yes, I do have a question and you can just shut the Hell up and trouble someone else with your woes about “work” and “responsibility” which I'm totally against, mind you, and…
Librarian: Sir, this conversation is over. Goodbye.
I couldn't believe this little peon just hung up on me! How dare she hang up on me! Doesn't she know that I am Chairman Meowsevitch S. Punchenko!? Well, actually, I didn't tell her who I was and thank goodness I didn't because it appeared at the time that I would have to make a personal trip to the Chicago Public Library to find out for myself what Mr. Obama was hiding. And what indeed was he hiding? Did he kill someone, perhaps? Or, maybe he raped a librarian there or something. Yes, I had to get down to the library right away and find out what exactly Mr. Obama was hiding – which, again, is not for any political gain on behalf of the Clinton campaign and in no way was I sent to Chicago to dig up dirt on Obama to use during the New Hampshire primary. I'm saying that for the record, folks, so that no one will accuse Hillary of sending me to dig up dirt – which I'm not doing, of course.
It wasn't long before I arrived at the library since I had my handy-dandy supped up Hummer with me. Sure, I might have hit a few pedestrians along the way but there are always casualties when I'm behind the wheel drunk, stoned and fondling three hookers I happened upon along the way. And yes, I did decide to park inside the library since obviously there was no other place to park except for the handicap spot, and unfortunately for me I'm neither handicap or had my handicap parking pass on me at the time. It was then when I was approached by a rent-a-cop who had the audacity to question me since I parked my Hummer inside the library.
Rent-a-cop: GET OUT OF THE VEHICLE NOW, SIR! THE POLICE ARE ON THERE WAY!
Me: It's all right, officer. You can put your flash-light down since I am clearly not armed.
Rent-a-cop: SIR! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW! I WILL USE THE TASER IF YOU FORCE ME TO!
Me: Do you know who I am!?
Rent-a-cop: SIR! I SAID GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!
Me: I'm warning you, kid. Don't mess with me.
Rent-a-cop: SIR! THE POLICE ARE ON THERE WAY!
Me: I AM THE POLICE! I AM AMERICA! I AM A KENNEDY! YOU HEAR ME! I AM A KENNEDY!
It didn't take long for the rent-a-cop's face to turn white when I told him that I was Kennedy. But, judging by his posture it seemed that me evoking the Kennedy title was not enough to disarm this rent-a-cop of his lethal electric taser and trusty flash-light.
Rent-a-cop: Sir, it doesn't matter if you are a Kennedy. You have rammed your vehicle through the front entrance, do you understand me! You have killed three bystanders after ramming your vehicle through the front entrance, do you understand me!
Obviously this kid wasn't going to shut the Hell up and I had to take drastic measures.
Me: I WORK FOR MAYOR DALEY!
Rent-a-cop: <gasp> I'm so sorry, sir! I'm so sorry! Here, allow me to help you out of the vehicle, sir! Oh, I'll call the station and let them know you work for da Mare and that everything is OK here.
Me: You're damn right you will help me out of my vehicle! Now get down on the ground and act like a step, for Gore's sake! I'm on top of all this rubble and crap – scared completely of my mind – and you want to shout at me and stuff.
Rent-a-cop: I'm so sorry, sir! I'm so sorry! Please don't fire me! Please! Here, step down on my back…
Me: No! I'm not going to step down on just you! Look how high up I am and how low to the ground you are! Now get those dead mangled bodies and build me a little stair case made of you and those dead people!
Rent-a-cop: Sir, you're only a few feet from the ground and…
Me: DO IT!
The rent-a-cop knew now who was in charge and it was clearly me. I should've known that Daley's name would get me around much quicker in Chicago than dropping Kennedy‘s name which only works in Massachusetts, California and parts of Florida. The rent-a-cop – who was just so very helpful – wasted no time at all in pulling the dead bodies of the bystanders to construct me a set of stairs to step down on. I mean, how was I going to get down when my Hummer was atop the masonry, steel and glass that made up the former façade of the library? How I ask you? What, am I just suppose to be stuck up there on top of that mountain of rubble and slowly die of thirst!? No, I think not and I'm forever indebted to that security guard and the dead bystanders who saved me from certain doom. So now that I was in library – and that my Hummer was parked close by so I wouldn't spend hours aimlessly looking for it in a sea of cars – I carefully made my way to the front desk where I found the skittish librarian that I talked to earlier.
Me: <rings> Toots! Over here, toots! <rings>.
Librarian: Sir, I'm standing right here.
Me: I'm surprised you are with all things considered. I mean, you would think this place would have evacuated after I decided to park my Hummer, well, you know.
Librarian: We are under strict orders not to leave when a functionary of Mayor Daley's arrives.
Me: Of course, of course. I can understand that. Now then, I need everything you have on Barack Obama here.
Librarian: May I inquire for what purpose you need this.
Me: Uhh, yeah, you see… uhh… the Mayor's office needs everything on him to prevent the Clinton campaign from using it as campaign fodder in New Hampshire which, mind you, the Clinton campaign would never under any circumstances engage in that kind of politics.
Librarian: OK? Well, he checked out a book back in 1984 which was never returned.
Me: Oh really! Is that so! Well now, that is certainly not good!
Librarian: I don't know about that. I mean, people forget to bring back books sometimes and we wanted to…
Me: Shh! Say no more, my child. You have greatly helped out the Clinton campaign with this information and I am more than happy to reward you with dinner, tonight, 8:00 sound good?
Librarian: Excuse me!?
Me: I know you would love to have dinner with me for your silence – that is, of course, if you pay the bill because I really…
Librarian: What!? No! I'm not having dinner with you and you just got done saying that you worked for the Mayor and that you needed that information to prevent the Clinton campaign from using something like that!
Me: Oh, uhh, we aren't using it for that. Goodness gracious! How silly! I don't work for the Clinton campaign and if I did we wouldn't stoop to that low!
Librarian: Sir, I'm entirely lost.
Me: Dinner? Tonight? You pay of course.
Librarian: No! No! No! I'm not having dinner with you and I'm calling the Obama campaign to tell them that you were here snooping! You and the Clinton campaign should be ashamed of yourselves, especially after digging up stuff regarding Obama in Kindergarten! How desperate are you people!?
This librarian was becoming bit of a problem and Hillary doesn't like problems. I had no choice but to act so that Hillary would be protected.
Me: Miss. I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me now.
Librarian: Oh my God! Is that a gun! This is a gun-free zone, sir! A gun-free zone!
Me: Turn around and walk out quietly. Do you have a car?
Librarian: Yes, I have a Ford Taurus outside.
Me: WHAT!? I CAN'T BE SEEN IN A TAURUS! What else do you have!? Surely there must be a nicer vehicle around here somewhere!? A Bentley or a Rolls, something! Tipper H. Gore! Me? In a Taurus? AGAIN!? NEVER! NEVER!
Librarian: Please don't shoot me!
Me: I should shoot you! I should shoot you for not owning a nice enough vehicle for me to kidnap you with! My Gore, if I were seen in a Taurus again I think I will die, yes, I would just die of embarrassment!
Librarian: What are you talking about!? Please! I don't want to die!
Me: Well, I don't want to be seen in a Ford Taurus again. Ugh, Commissar Roscoe… it's a long story lady and, well, I don't have time for this! Here, we'll take the library's van and I'll stay in the back! You'll drive!
Librarian: OK, OK, just please don't shoot me. Please!
Me: OK, put on these Obama stickers all over your blouse and help me tie this rope around my legs. Now then, I want you to drive real fast and if you don't I will shoot you, got it!?
Librarian: Yes! OK! Shouldn't you be tying me up?
Me: No! I offered you dinner and now you want sex too on top of it!? What kind of depraved librarian are you!?
Librarian: Huh?
Me: Just tie me up, dammit, and drive!
Librarian: OK! OK!
Me: Now step on it and swerve or else I'll shoot you!
Librarian: OK! Please don't shoot me!
It didn't take long until the police finally started chasing after us. I mean, I had this librarian doing 80 and running through every red light, she was a gem! Since the police were on to us it was time to plan my escape so I instructed the librarian to pull over and I placed duct-tape partially over my mouth.
Police: Get out of the vehicle, miss! Put your hands over your head!
Me: Help! Help! I've been kidnapped and she's armed! She's armed!
I squeezed off one round and then I immediately grabbed the librarian's hand and placed the gun firmly in her grip as she screamed.
Me: Help! She is shooting! She is shooting!
Police: Everyone get down! Miss, put the gun down and step out of the van!
Librarian: OK! I'm coming out! I'm innocent!
Me: No she isn't! She kidnapped me! She is an Obama staffer!
Police: Miss, get out now and place you hands over your head!
Librarian: OK, I'm coming out now.
The librarian made her way out and fell to the ground as a swarm of Chicago's finest swooped down on her.
Police: Sir, are you OK?
Me: Yes, yes, I'm fine. I'm a little shook up but I'll be fine.
Police: Were you kidnapped by this woman, sir?
Me: Yes, yes, I was kidnapped by her. She is a deranged Obama staffer and she tried to kidnap me after I told her I was working for Mayor Daley and, more importantly, Hillary Clinton.
Police: You work for da Mare?
Me: Yes, yes I do. And I want this woman placed behind bars for life! I also want you to keep her away from the media and I want you to get some reporters down here A.S.A.P.
Police: Yes, sir! Anything for da Mare's office!
The media was all over the place and a pack of reporters were all over me asking for my story.
Reporter: Mr. Punchenko, why did this woman kidnap you and what did she want?
Me: Well obviously she is a deranged Obama staffer trying to stop Hillary from winning by kidnapping innocent aides like me. Clearly Obama, the Republicans and gun-owners are all working together to stop Hillary from delivering affordable healthcare to the masses and from bringing the troops home. And… and… I am the victim in this and Hillary, of course, is the biggest victim in this and I refuse to answer any more questions until Barbra or Mike interviews me.
Reporter: How did you stop this deranged Obama staffer and how did you get her to surrender?
Me: It was hard. Luckily for me I had Hillary's book Living History ($35.99 - Buy now!!) with me at the time and I read passages to this deranged Obama staffer about how great a woman Hillary is and what a fine president she will make for the American people. I mean, Hillary is the real hero here and I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for her.
Me: That's all the questions I wish answer right now and I will remind you all that Barack Obama forgot to turn in a book back in 1984. Oh, and feel free to make that a headline too. Thank you.
So that is how it all happened, Comrades, and I just can't believe the Obama campaign would do such a thing. It's just shameful! SHAMEFUL! I missed a show-trial because of this and I for one am suing the Obama campaign!
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