Wednesday, April 18, 2012

On the Menu

Romney put his dog on the car roof some decades ago, and man oh man is that a big scandal to the lefty Dehmocraps. Explosive diarrhea from the beast, so options were limited ... dad should have just cancelled the road trip. The kids could stay home, play in the backyard, see Walley World next year. So there's that.

The Repug sithlords are striking back, pointing out that Obama ate dogmeat. Not dog food, like Alpo say, which is horse; no, he ate actual dog. As a child, in Indonesia. Savory dogmeat, tough snakemeat, and crunchy grasshopper, roasted. Sounds like ingredients of Lucky Charms.

It's all very stupid. No dogs were harmed in the making of Romney's roadtrip. Dogs were harmed in the preparation of the Indonesian consumables, but that is the order of things, our narrow Western mores not withstanding. If there is a scandal in boy Obama eating dog (which is unlikely to have been anyone's pet), it would lie in the fact that Obama actually wrote about it in his book ... being so completely tonedeaf that he didn't see that Americans, some, might be repulsed by the action. America, I, future President Obama, ate dog meat, isn't that interesting? -- so buy my book and vote for me, cuz I'm fascinating and eloquent and nuanced.

I must return to that presiding theme, character. It's almost a mantra now with me, a long one. When Obama stepped up, pushed himself forward, for The Job, he was saying I'm the man for The Job. I can fix this. Give me the responsibility. Well you stupid Americans did just that, and either he was lying, or deluding himself, or profoundly ignorant, or all of the above. Because as soon as his first effort didn't fix the problem, he lapsed into what must be the habit of a lifetime, and blamed blamed blamed, which is exactly the opposite of taking responsibility.

The Big Oh can't be blamed for Secret Service agents being derelict -- bringing whores into the hotel they were supposed to be securing. That level of micromanagement must be reserved, in his administration, for the lives of religious Americans, and parents, and other malefactors, like conservatives. Of course. We need to be controlled. Otherwise we might emit carbon dioxide and shrink the now-growing glaciers of the Himalayas. End of Days! No, O can't be held to an unreasonable standard. O has full faith if not credit in the director of the Secret Service, who has decidedly NOT "acted stupidly", for all that the man does not look like Obmama's son.

Is there a culture of corruption? -- or just its appearance. Snake rots from the head down. It's unlikely to be a sort of corruption that takes actual monetary bribes. It is certainly the sort that bribes en mass, as with the free-wheeling million dollar Vegas junket that the governmental furniture-buyers awarded themselves. "What is your job title, Mr. Furniture-Buyer Director?" "I respectfully decline to answer based on my 5th Amendment rights." "What is 1 million dollars plus 1 million dollars?" "I respectfully decline to answer based on my 5th Amendment rights." It's not that he's brazen. He's terrified. His sins have found him out. If he has balls, they're so far indrawn they function as ovaries.

If O gets reelected -- and you are stupid enough to do that -- it will not be the end of America. A woman who gets beaten and raped need not be ruined. A woman who asks for it is already ruined, so it is not her end. There are psychotics, male and female, who ask for it. Maybe that's America. Or maybe we, you, have just been stupid, and need to really get effed up, before you smarten up? Sadly, the dog returneth to its vomit. Maybe it's a loyalty thing ... close to the opposite of blame. Maybe it's the Stockholm Syndrome. What I'd like to see is pragmatism. Cut your loses. Write Obama off as if he were a hippie commune experience. Something we learned from, but overall a waste of time. You did this, asked for it, and you got what you deserve. Does God need to send locusts to make you repent? Kumbaya, dumbass.

Do you smell rotting snakemeat? Tastes just like dog.


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