Thursday, October 29, 2009

In theaters Thanksgiving Day ... The Winds of Obama

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Kommuneest organ grinder (joykoff), Grammy recipient, U.S. Senator, Pwezzidunce, oond wiener of the Nobel (the U.S. is now in pieces) Prize. Barry now sets his sights on Hollywood, bringing his own extry spayshul embouchure and intonation to da beeg IMAX screen. In a major new motion picture release ... The Winds of Obama.

Crepitation like never before seen, or heard (twelve thundering channels, 24,000 watts)! Witness his special arugala, mustard, and Waygu diet. His dedicated training regime ... jetting off around the globe promoting Chicago, the Abomination brand name, and other assorted libturds. Fight back the tears of joy as you are treated to Obama's nonstop grandiose speechifying, glorifying the fascist regime [click heels together, raise right arm (palm forward)]. Hoot and holler as Barry wantonly destroys America (in only nine months).

See some of the most spectacular footage of hot gas expulsion ever recorded (WARNING: no one will be seated during the last fifteen minutes). Don't miss this special limited engagement holiday event! [No passes or discounts accepted (Academy members your card admits two)].

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The critics are raving ...

NYT's: Explosive!

CNN: Manna from hebben

MSNBC: Can't get enough!

CBS: A rose by any udder name ...

L.A. Daily News editor Carolina Garcia: Epoch ... visionary. I inhaled deeply throughout!

L.A. Times: Pure ecstasy ... now everyone can experience the power, the glory, the awe and majesty of the messiah.

The Village Voice: A shoe in for the Oscar ... is Broadway next?!

Advance, reserved tickets are now available by phone or internet and are selling fast. Don't miss out!

Monday, October 19, 2009

Time to put on your big boy pants ... Barry

It's going to be OK Obama ... there there now.
Time to man up.

But ... we already know you ain't got the brass. The juevos. We already know you ain't got nuthin. Nuthin at all. Blaming Karzai? Pathetic. Truly. The nearly next to last gasp, of your failed administration. Your nonexistent leadership.

Hey Chucklehead ... yeah you Obama!

McChrystal called you out on Afghanistan. It's what men do. Leaders. He ... not gunna fall on the sword for you. Not going to take the blame for your indecision, duplicity, and lies. Your failure (as in not Bush's, or Fox's). You are neither a man Barry, nor a leader (let alone a President). You are an insect ... a bug. With no redemption ... a sad sack of sh*t.

Shoving socialism down our throats.

Creating a fictional deficit (that is all too real).

Printing money faster than you can spend.

Turning the dollar into play money.

Galloping away from the war on terror, running from militant radical Islam. As fast as your leetle legs will carry.

Pissing on Neda's (unmarked?) grave. Getting down on your knees in front of Ahmadinejad. And sucking. Hard. Guaranteeing Iran's continued ascent to nuclear armament. And a preemptive Israeli strike.

For someone who ran a campaign comprised of one single word. You have achieved the ultimate. You have actually destroyed hope. Completely obliterated it. For America, and all her children. For America's friends and allies. It is my wish, that more men of conscience will speak up. Will speak out. And expose the traitor among us.

And Obamedia? .... Drooling all over Falcon Heene like stupid on Kanye. Hoax! ... the bellowing thundering cry. One can only pray that one among them awakens. Opens up one drowsy eye. Dares ... deigns to lift a finger, to expose the greatest hoax of all time.

Barack Hussein Obama.

And his lying, conspirational, traitorous felonies. Thus lifting the darkness that has descended upon the land. Til then, I dream of the day whence Chucklehead Obama, the twelfth mahdi. Is escorted back to the rock, from under which he came. And I then can take sabre, to bottle of Schramsberg (though I haven't yet decided what clothes I'll wear).

Friday, October 09, 2009

Orwell's battered corpse weeps.

we're fucked
Long live der feuhrer and Obamedia.

In a surprise, Obama wins Nobel Peace Prize

George's remaining dusty bits crying tears in a torrent, a flood.

Reality is dead.

Truth forgotten.

Hope? F*ck me twice.

G*d help us all.