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Speaking of Funny Stuff... »
April 27, 2009
Quick, Let's Run Videos of Sarah Palin Talking at a Turkey Farm Sixty Bazillion Times
You guys remember that? How stupid of her!
Now that warrants 24/7 coverage.
This weak shit? None at all.
Sorry... The weak shit I mean is the 747 terrifying New York City video.
I just meant this to be a post addressing how colossally stupid that was. And how the MSM, so eager to call Palin dim for speaking at a turkey farm, will cover for Obama. They won't play this up, late night comics won't mention it, and the Pentagon will be blamed.
The stink of rotting stupidity will be kept far away from Mr. So Brilliant He Won't Release His Grades Bammy.
Obama "Furious" to Hear of Incident His Own White House Approved: He's so, so angry.
And, as with everything else, he really wants you to know that he's not responsible for his responsibilities. Stuff just happens. Bein' president is hard.
He wants you to know that, just as was the case when his White House approved AIG retention bonuses, he's every big as angry about this as you are. Even angrier, probably, because he did it. (Although, remember, it's not his fault.)
Our laid-back, disconnected president is really fucking cool, though. He's like the cool kids at school who never did any work and just sat around bein' all popular.
Hakuna matada. Shit happens.
Geraldo Rivera Reporting: A funny parody in the comments:
Geraldo Rivere here reporting live in Manhattan. This morning was a cool, clear, sunny day much like the morning of September the eleventh. People walking on the busy sidewalks, just hours after they arose from their slumber, in their beds, next to their sexual partners, many of whom probably had morning sex, quickly walking to destinations.
And just like on September the eleventh, the roar of jet engines eerily fill the air, the noise bounces off the tall buildings like a scrotum bouncing off the bttuocks of a naked woman during sex. These average Americans, New Yorkers, once again had their worday interrupted by a frightening scene of a low-flying commercial airliner.
As the crowd looked up, their first thought was to run. I saw one well-endowed woman running, her large breasts bouncing, and all I could think was what a shame if I'm the last to see those beautiful orbs of flesh.
In seconds it was a mob, like an orgy, erupting in fear. Young supple bodies undualting, and writhing in panic like a teenager's first time with a hooker. Legs pumping and chests heaving, the people wasted no time in getting away from the thunder of the jet engines and the eerie shadow of a airplane on the streets of Manhattan.