Saturday, March 29, 2014

IS THIS BLUTO VERSUS OLIVE OIL?



CAN A BROTHER CATCH A BREAK – NO
 
Temecula, CA – Smart racist Vegas money has a line open on Obama committing suicide before he
leaves office and cementing his legacy as the only president ever to ‘check out’ in office. I’m not a betting man but even the dogs, who might be let out now, are watching this one. With a little more than a year left, let’s see how Obama’s last two weeks have been going.

We are not going to go back over the missing/fake story/false leads/dumped parts of Malaysian Flight MH370, or the fact that neither Philip Wood’s GF, the Chinese relatives, or even a pilot on Fox News isn’t swallowing the kool-aid, except to say that the KGB’s Bluto caught both the Chinese and the Americans flat-footed. That’s why the Chinese allowed a rare street demonstration to happen. “We bested this battle” and then a deep bow. The American side howled like Olive Oil. I guess Barry was out of the country when we bombed Iraq on false intel, wasn’t born when the U2 Incident happened, and isn’t Native American to know about The Trail of Tears.

Before we move to what enquiring minds and mouths are talking about, let’s peek at pictures of Barry meeting the Pope, our last pope it seems, right after the jump. 



All smiles as usual, the Pope didn’t have a ‘glad to see you’ look at all, something different from all the rest of the pictures of Popes with Presidents. One could quip that perhaps this last Pope is a Republican but the more logical view would be that given the church’s history, Pontiffs don’t believe in change. Thanks to Obama, a lot of Americans, black and white, now don’t believe in it either. Go Barry!

Also it wasn’t like Barry could take the Church leader some home-style canned yams from the FLOTUS organic garden either, but we will get to that issue in a minute. At any rate, after Obama’s usual submissive bow and audience, His Holy See broke centuries of tradition by confessing his sins, one of which maybe was listening to Barry, but even my moles don’t go that deep. Here is a photo of God’s Number 1 man getting a load of shit off his chest in this unprecedented moment.

Before heading out for his last stop in Saudi Arabia to sniff out any possible info on the missing Muslim techs, before the Vatican stop to a visibly irritated Pope, who seemed not unlike a person who is missing his coke-a-cola, see Do Things Go Better With Pope, even before making a masked comment of being ‘more worried about a nuke hitting New York’ [in the future], Barry kicked it off to a high two-step with the Gang of Eight, minus one, our bear-riding Bluto from you know where. Verily I say to you, if there was an election held today, this hour, in the United States between Obama, Mitt Romney, and Vlad Putin, when the dust settled, there would be two guys we all know getting drunk together in some Boston back alley Irish dive, too ashamed to show their faces in DC. But I digress.

When you show a photo, some people just see it; others look at what the picture says. As an editor, I fall into the second category. The photo below of the G-7 Summit shows the opulent group of people who run the world for and with the Central Bank, a consortium controlled by a very distant blood group relative to me. Looking at the photograph here, which you can enlarge by clicking on it, please notice all the hand positions, especially Obama and the gorgeous blond ruler standing next to him. What ‘pick and popped’ to me was noticeable only because I wasn’t always a writer or a choirboy. There was some time in-between.



This brings us around to our last segment here. Word has reached me that the taking of Mama along to the zoo plus not having a photo op in a public place is a sign of domestic turbulence under the capitol dome. This unnamed source is a female twice divorced. Upon checking the web, there are indeed stories floating around that somebody ‘has been creeping’ in slang parlance. According to these reports, at least two instances have been uncovered by the FLOTUS leading to someone sleeping on the couch where Washington slept [here].

Being no virgin to divorce or the heartache it brings to all involved I don’t wish any ill luck on anyone who could be a victim of The Peter Principal. While some might say, it’s not easy being sleazy, it’s worse to face Bluto,


And realize you ain’t Popeye in this cartoon. 

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