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).

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