Can I just say what I want to say without linking to anything? Because I'm so tired of backing up everything I say with fact checking links, I won't write this article if I can't just speak my mind. Why should I waste my time researching what I know other people are saying so that readers can fact check me and think, hmmmm, maybe she does know what she's spewing about. If that's what it takes to get intelligent life to pay attention, then good, I don't care, they can go read the same thing somewhere else. Little do they know the same thing somewhere else doesn't exist. Yet. That's because I'm the original, the original thought, the original spewminator. Okay, maybe not. I just rolled out of bed. I'm sick. I'm tired. I'm sick and tired.
Good gracious, what time is it? Did I really just admit rolling out of bed at 4:00 p.m.? That was the time I started this article. So much has happened since then and I'm still in my pajamas.
The political campaign trail is heating up. It's starting to get good. The gloves are coming off and the candidates are finally out there swacking. About time. I was wondering when the dirt would start to fly.
Barack Hussein Obama.
That's the latest flap. The Republicans are getting trashed for repeating -- very slowly -- repeating the mid-dle-name of the lock nominee for the Democrats.
Oh, but I'm not counting Hillary out, no, better dare not count out She-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, lest someone think I don't know what I'm talking about. The Clintons won't be done until America cuts off every hairy head they sprout, like the Hydra team on Celebrity Apprentice. Until there are no heads left to vanquish and the body keels over dead, a lifeless massive hulk, only then will people finally proclaim
Barack Hussein Obama
the lock Democratic nominee. Links aside, this point about not counting out She-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, I saw someone else touch upon this subject and it was rather good. They compared Billary to the shark in Jaws, and right then and there I knew no one of any substance would dare call her out of this race -- yet. Just when you think you've pounded the slick oily beast in the head enough times to see it slink to the bottom of the ocean never to be seen again, just then, the million-toothed monster flies up out of the spray, "Auuggghhh! Auuuuggghhh!," gnawing at the boat it broke in half right before you were lucky enough to beat it back into the waves, "Auuugggghhh! Auuugggghhhh!," and you're thinking to yourself, "I thought I killed that thing. Wha jus happen't?" as it lunges for the boat and rips out your jugular.
Are we there yet?
When the Democrats can finally sing "Ding dong, the witch is dead," only then will we all be able to sit cross-legged in a big circle, strap our headbands across our foreheads, drink herbal tea, stand together, lock our arms in solidarity and sing Kumbaya. This train is a rolling down the tracks, people. Not you, not me, not even William F. Buckley, may he R.I.P., can stop this train 'cause itsa come'n. Truth be told, I don't want to stop this train. I'm so giddy at the prospect of shaking off the stench of the Clintons, I'm right there in that circle singing "Praised Be! Glory glory hallespewya! Bring it on!"
Barack Hussein Obama
is going all the way. Barack is a lock. No matter what happens this Tuesday, the momentum of his campaign has morphed into something so much larger than the way it began. So epic, so Nostradamic, so second coming in proportions that the super delegates have already defected in droves, bowing to the will of the mighty masses no matter what wool Ohio Republicans try to pull over the people's eyes. Clinton has made mistake after mistake after mistake, in fact, she's made so many ridiculous mistakes over the course of her campaign, it would take a witch doctor to revive it. The blundering monstrosity that characterizes her campaign proves she would run this country right into the ground no matter what kind of praises people want to heap upon her.
And by the way, I was dismayed to see one of the entertainers I admire most, Tina Fey, practically gush over Billary's good qualities this past Saturday on SNL. B**ch is not the new black. Catholic school nuns scare me. There are other good, less terrifying ways to learn the capital of Vermont.
Sorry, Tina (by the way, in case you live in an oppressive dictatorship, that isn't Tina, it's a reenactment I stumbled upon), but in this case, backing the devil we know is not a good idea.
Barack Hussein Obama.
What's the problem, people? That's the man's name. That's the name his mother and father chose to give him. What? He should change it? He shouldn't be proud of his own name, is that what you people are saying? What? Other people shouldn't speak his name because it will make stupid people think he's a Muslim? Since when does the intelligentsia censure for the sake of chowderheads?
Oh my gee dee! I'm going to have to dis my own request and link to something more intelligent than this twaddle. I can't believe I'm doing this for the sake of morons. Take that! And that!And this!
Barack Hussein Obama!!!
Get used to it.
Whew. I'm tired. Will somebody bring me some coffee? And a couple aspirins? Make that Motrins, aspirin isn't supposed to be good on an empty stomach. Drat. Nobody's around. The kids are all in school. I thought for sure one of them stayed home and slept in when I went back to bed. And that husband of mine. How dare he go to work and actually earn a living when I'm home sick in bed. I think it's the flu. Or maybe the clap. I can't tell the difference. Oh yeah. One of them is more itchy.
