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Waiting for Obama

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(Flashes of lightning and the sounds of thunder clapping. Bunker door swings open letting in the pouring rain and swirls of angry blowing gust. A dark shadowy figure appears in the doorway in tattered rags, holding luggage and wearing what is left of his expensive ushanka.)

The Specters! Oh the Specters! I'M BACK!

(Collapses and passes out.)

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Comrade Chairman! Praise Lenin, Mao and Uncle Ho's embalmed corpses! Where have you been, and what strange tales do you bear for us? Tell me, is The Revolution(TM) going well in the weird lands you have journeyed through? Comrade, pull up a chair by the fire here and let me pour you a glass of vodka while the borscht is served.

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Welcome back, Chairman!

For historical purposes, however, I must point out that the original image, before it was photoshopped, looked like this:

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I like this picture. It reminds me of the other one...

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In addition, I think a better title for a story about the two hobos you mentioned would be "Waiting for Change."

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I have not voted on this matter. I am glad you are back. Please update this web site.

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Welcome Home Chairman!

Your double mission to the PRC was greatly appreciated.
Finding an excellent advertising firm for your genius idea in funding Arlen Specter's campaign was fantastic and I'm sure you appreciated the $2.6 million NIH%20grant%20for%20the%20un-washed%20f ... nsumption.
I wondered why you had a stopover in Detroit before flying to Beijing, but it all makes sense now with Wayne State being there.
Now we must blame Bush….HAHAHA…yes! Blame Bush for your spending of $2.6 million on hookers and booze. I promise nobody will know the Democratic controlled Congress approved the funding.

I hope you “wrapped your rascal” while doing research! Snort!

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My mission was a horrible one, Laika. I... I never knew just how corrupted, backwards and soulless the Party apparatchiks were up North. Everything was upside down, backwards, strange and completely distorted. Children's parents went to school. Blue was green and green another shade of purple. Cats were more equal than dogs who combined had three more votes than their human counterparts. Nothing like the sights I saw up North can be found down here in the oppressive South. It was truly amazing -- a wonderland of progress is the only way to describe my journey, nay, my quest up North. My quest to invent the most soulless and heartless scheme one could ever devise to raise much needed cash for weak Democrats come 2010.

Yes, Comrades -- we will cure cancer. We will cure cancer through your generous donations.

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I must warn you all: Never fall for the Gnome Queen's Garden of Delights and never, never, never fondle the breast of the stone statues in said Garden of Delights. Michigan is a dangerous realm and I am lucky to return.

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Meow, when I heard there was a rash of arson of abandoned houses in Detroit, I mused, "Hmmm," and pulled my chin. "I believe I detect dear Meow's paw prints up there. Just like him to torch something if there's nothing to steal in it."

When are you coming to the Rancho for a visit? I have scored some really good hydrocodone for you. You'll love this batch--it's cut with E.

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Chairman M. S. Punchenko wrote:I must warn you all: Never fall for the Gnome Queen's Garden of Delights and never, never, never fondle the breast of the stone statues in said Garden of Delights. Michigan is a dangerous realm and I am lucky to return.

Pesky gnomes! I denounce gnomes! They are all over the place, standing on lawns spying, gathering intel. Why even Wal-Mart has them. I purge gnomes whenever I see them. They squeal when you toss them into a wood chipper feet first.

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Meow, I learned never to fondle gnomes when Robert Reich came down to the Rancho. Now I admit I was five sheets to the wind that time and I didn't have my impaling stakes set up then, but that little haughty homunculus didn't like it one little bit.

Pardon me. I am having flashbacks to hours spent in the technicolor yawn.

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Ahh the technicolor yawn. This morning I tasted purple. I'm not sure I like the flavor of purple....

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Commissar Theocritus wrote:Meow, when I heard there was a rash of arson of abandoned houses in Detroit, I mused, "Hmmm," and pulled my chin. "I believe I detect dear Meow's paw prints up there. Just like him to torch something if there's nothing to steal in it."
When are you coming to the Rancho for a visit? I have scored some really good hydrocodone for you. You'll love this batch--it's cut with E.[/quote]

Many homes were torched in my desperate effort of scratching together enough of Other People's Money for a bus ticket home. Lenin knows I rather suffer than be forced to contribute one cent of my own money towards my own salvation. Sadly there was not enough wealth in the whole of Detroit for me to pilfer and my powers -- The Pilfering -- simply did not work in a town so desolate and raped dry by apparatchiks more heartless and more caring than myself.

Luckily for me, Theocritus, two kind hobos -- GM executives by day, I'm told -- taught me how to survive in such a world on the generosity of the man they wait for, a man they only refer to as Obama. Forever those two wait for Obama to descend on them to help them in their most desperate hour of need. Why, if it weren't for a routine visit by Her Grace, the Madam Speaker, I might still be trapped in that world where time has stopped and wealth simply does not exist. Oh the horrors I have endured on my quest to the Northeast! Oh the horrors!
Gasp! This is the Gnome Queen who used her dark powers to banish me to Detroit! The locals call her Granholm.
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Mmmm that evil gnome queen is attractive. In a most progressive and equal way of course. I can see how you fell under her spell. In fact I might have done the same without having warning of her evil.

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Meow, oh, dear Meow. Mucking about with the Gnome Queen? Well if you want queens I have one for you. Free.

I did some research on La Granholm and found in that unimpeachable source, Wikipedia, this:
Granholm and was born to Shirley Alfreda Dowden and Victor Ivar Granholm in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. Granholm's paternal grandfather, who emigrated to Canada in the 1930s, came from Robertsfors, Sweden, where his father was mayor. The Swedish Minister for Enterprise and Energy, Maud Olofsson, lives in Robertsfors and when the two met in Sweden it was revealed that Olofsson's husband is Granholm's relative.
Her great-grandfather was mayor of a town in Sweden! I'm getting a tingle in my leg over that one.

And she's related to the Swedish Minister for Enterprise and Energy? I'm giddy with excitement. I wonder if she knows someone who knows someone who knows one of ABBA? If so we ought to change the Constitution to let Canadians be president. Oh hell, let's just change the constitution so that native-born Americans can't be president. So if His O'liness' birth certificate ever does come to light, he'll be grandfathered in. There is no reason that someone whose birth was attested to by Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar in the the Manger Community Hospital cannot be President for Life.

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By the way, I am no expert in Swedish, but doesn't -holm mean port or haven? The great Mother Socialist, haven to all...

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Laika the Space Dog wrote:I hope you “wrapped your rascal” while doing research! Snort!

Not only did he "wrap his rascal," Laika, but he had all of those "wrappings" made into hair bands while he was touring the Chinese factories and brought them back to sell give as presents For The Children.™

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Meow? Presents for the Children(tm)? It is to laugh. The last thing that Meow did that was philanthropic was to tell a lady of the night about his weeping sores and lesions--after they had had congress.

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As you know, Vlad, Meow will do anything to make a buck, and presents according to Meow means the forced selling of worthless trinkets over the threat of hard labor in the gulags. Ah, our beloved Uncle Meow.

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You know, doctor, if Meow could somehow reify and make incarnate the gaseous Hope-n-Change mantras of His Oliness and sell <i>them<i>, he would have wealth that would turn Bill Gates green with envy. Just think--every exiguous sonority, every mellifluous nullity, every empty trope, just cash in the bank.

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Dr. Strangelove wrote:
Laika the Space Dog wrote:I hope you “wrapped your rascal” while doing research! Snort!

Not only did he "wrap his rascal," Laika, but he had all of those "wrappings" made into hair bands while he was touring the Chinese factories and brought them back to sell give as presents For The Children.™

Yes, I know, and he told them it was chewing gum.
One young child said they tasted funny and the next thing you know it was being repackaged and marketed as hairbands.
As our Greenazi friends have said many times: Reuse The Used™!

I think it's a classical principal that Meow has applied.

Kudos Chairman for showing us the progressive light!

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Laika the Space Dog wrote:Yes, I know, and he told them it was chewing gum.
One young child said they tasted funny and the next thing you know it was being repackaged and marketed as hairbands.

Perhaps Theo was korrect that I misspoke when I said "presents." What I really meant to say was "surprises." Yes, the Chairman brought them back to give as surprises For The Children.™

Most definitely, Laika, there is no better example with regards to recycling than our very own Chairman Meow, the cheap bastard.

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Dr., have you forgotten His O'liness? He has recycled any number of things, or rather his TelePrompTer has--endless feel-good tropes delivered in his resonant baritone with that look of clean-shaven sincerity which one can almost believe in, if one is a prole.

God, but I love and admire Meow, despite his weeping sores and lesions, but make no mistake: the champion recycler, Laika, of the used is Barack Hussein Obama, who makes tired old socialism sound fresh and new.

Because people want to hear it. His genius is adulterating the audience. Can we buy some of that?

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An American is having breakfast, in Paris , one morning (coffee, croissants, bread, butter and jam) when a Frenchman, chewing bubble-gum, sits down next to him. The American ignores the Frenchman who, nevertheless, starts a conversation.

Frenchman: "You American folk eat the whole bread??"

American (in a bad mood): "Of course."

Frenchman: (after blowing a huge bubble) "We don't. In France , we only eat what's inside. The crusts we collect in a container, recycle it, transform them into croissants and sell them to the states." The Frenchman has a smirk on his face.

The American listens in silence.

The Frenchman persists: "Do you eat jelly with the bread??"

American: "Of Course."

Frenchman: (cracking his bubble-gum between his teeth and chuckling).

"We don 't. In France we eat fresh fruit for breakfast, then we put all the peels, seeds, and leftovers in containers, recycle them, transform them into jam, and sell the jam to the states."

After a moment of silence, The American then asks: "Do you have sex in France ?"

Frenchman: "Why of course we do", he says with a big smirk.

American: "And what do you do with the condoms once you've used them?"

Frenchman: "We throw them away, of course."

American: "We don't. In America , we put them in a container, recycle them, melt them down into bubble-gum, and sell them to France ."

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Chairman, your ability to always obtain 'gubmint' funding for any of your licentious immoral educational excursions never ceases to amaze me. You are a 'Lenin' among men. I bow in your presence!

U.S. Spending $117,000 to Study ‘Party Drug' Use in Brazil



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And $2.8 million to teach Chinese whores to drink safely to cut down on AIDS.

$117k to study how Joe Biden has been a Senator without anything that even his mother would call a brain.

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Yes, the $2.8M for Chinese prostitutes, and now this:
<br>NIH Spends $178,000 to Study Why Prostitutes in Thailand Have High HIV Risk

Next, Meow will get the 'gubmint' to pay for a 'study' on why people who drink lots of vodka have a high risk of being drunk.

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I think that the gubmint ought to fund a study to show that high taxation rates increase the size of gubmint. This would be a sort of recursive self-fulling prophecy, and would make all the theologians deliriously happy having proven that predestination is right.

Sorry. Very long day. My TelePrompTer broke down.

The TelePrompTer broke down,
And I made the awfulest sound...

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I want a study to show why when I eat too much I get fat. I'll do it for only $100k, a bargain by any standard.

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But there is one study which will never be funded: why you go broke if you spend more money than you have. That would shake the foundations of denial on which Washington is built.


 
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