Political Humor

A few days ago I drove through the bustling megalopolis of Beaver Marsh, Oregon -it took all of four seconds, but it was a scary four seconds. It may have been the blood red mobile home with the dark blue trim, or it may have been the wide spot in the road’s name. Whatever it was, suddenly I had an epiphany, and this triggered an emotional response that I don’t know very well… fear.

What had me so freaked-out was that I realized I agreed with Rahm Emanuel. I had to concede he was correct when he spoke to a group of Far Left libs some months ago. They are fucking retards. What’s worse, I defend his right to use that term.

Terrified at this revelation, I took both hands off the steering wheel and quickly reached between my legs. A firm, two handed grasp sent a reassuring bolt of pain to my brain.

Satisfied I hadn’t been neutered -and would soon want to start chanting “Yes we can” between sips of lesbian coffee at a Starbucks, where I was Tweeting- I re-took control of my four wheel drive truck, stomped on the gas and cranked up Rush. As in Limbaugh, not the band, but the band would have been a good choice too.

Emanuel got himself in hot water for not being political correct. Rahm isn’t known for being very PC, or worrying about the sensitives of others. He’s just that kind of guy. While I don’t agree with that point of view (he says without snickering), I do believe most people are overly-sensitive. They sneak around certain words like a wet-back crossing the border. Here’s my solution: Come down from your crosses, use them to build bridges, and get the fuck over it!

A chink with a Samurai sword, a flee-ridden camel jockey and two nappy-headed hos walk into a bar…

All this politically correct bullshit has got to go. First off, why did we even allow ourselves to be drawn into something labeled politically correct? The first word in the phrase should clue you in. Politically? Oh please. Give my lily white, Aryan ass a brake. Even a bleach blonde bimbo from the San Fernando Valley, carrying a Chihuahua in her purse, knows politics are like totally corrupt. Then there’s correct. In whose opinion? What four-eyed, Pollock numb-nuts thought up that winner?

I say, toss that moronic jargon and let’s rediscover the joy of a funny greasy spaghetti bender or a fat, ghetto, welfare mom joke. A chink with a Samurai sword, a flee-ridden camel jockey and two nappy-headed hos walk into a bar… Seriously, don’t you miss the good old days, before people got their itty-bitty feelings hurt or their panties in a wad, and then start whining like a bunch of little girls? They all need to be publicly bitch slapped.

Even Gov Palin -who has nice tits- has forgotten this. Sarah needs to grow thick elephant hide, and not the RINO, McCain backing skin she seems to be trying on for size, like a red “Rogue Warrior Jacket“.

And speaking of nappy-headed hos (No, not Palin, dumb ass. Take your finger out of your nose and get back on the short bus, you retard.), when it comes to Presidents, I don’t really care what a person’s race, color, creed, or any of that other stupid crap is. Or even if they end their sentences in prepositions.

As long as the candidate shares my conservative convictions, I don’t give a flying shit if they’re an eye-patch wearing, midget, Buddhist woman, in a wheelchair with a parrot on her shoulder, who farts in public -both her and the parrot.

Pick whom ever you want, I’ll vote for them.  Just as long as they’re not a fag or a hippie, ’cause then I’m going to want to beat ‘em like an anorexic, red-headed stepchild.

Coming soon! New material from Les James at both Sideshow Mirrors and Mild Max

Wow!

That’s pretty much my reaction to that poster from 1911, or just about anything currently coming out of the mouths of the Democrats.

Not a day goes by that I don’t hear a new twist on the same failed policies from the past. No, not the ones George Bush used. I was thinking of the failed policies of Francisco Franco and Benito Mussolini -amongst others. Both of whom are still dead.

You suck my blood like a leech
You break the law and you preach
Screw my brain till it hurts
You’ve taken all my money
And you want more
Excerpt: Death on Two Legs, lyrics by Freddie Mercury

By in large, politicians just don’t listen. Once elected, they conveniently forget to the old, two ears, one mouth rule.  Still, there is a bit of difference between Democrats and Republicans. Some Republicans are starting to listen… a little.

Once they removed their giant elephant heads from their cranial repositories, they discovered a bunch of upset folks. Folks that are ready to vote them out, if they don’t straighten-up and fly (to the) right. But the Democrats have their donkey heads rammed so far up, it’s doubtful they could hear anything, except the non-stop, rhetorical diarrhea flowing from their pie-holes.

I’d have to suspect that talking that much shit -with an anal sphincter tightly constricted around ones neck- would lead to their bodily systems running in reverse. It’s no wonder they’ve got backwards ideas, like government creates jobs and Capitalism is too big. And of course, my favorite: the people of Massachusetts we’re so angry at W, they elected Scott Brown. If that’s not comically inversely proportional to reality, I don’t know what is.

With that kind of contrary thinking Dems, it’s time to kiss your asses goodbye. Some of you have more time than others, but all should practice puckering-up.  It should be convenient, your lips are already so very close.

But… There’s always a but when it comes to asses, and there are few larger butts or bigger asses than the one I’m about to mention. Believe it or not, I can actually think of one Democrat I’d like to see elected in 2012. It’s with this seemingly ridiculous statement in mind, I want to be first to throw my considerable political influence behind the campaign to elect Ted Kennedy as President.

Think about it.

Now that he’s dead, he finally knows how to keep his mouth shut.

We won’t have to worry about him being assassinated. The Secret Service will be happy about that.

Teddy wouldn’t be able to sign any spending Bills into law. This will make him extremely fiscally conservative.

He won’t be boring us, every other day, with some inane teleprompter speech. I’m pretty sick of hearing Obama read bromides that direct platitudes back to the speaker.

This list could go on and on. Feel free to add your own.

Still, the best reason I know,  to go All the Way with Teddy K in 2012, is no matter how much he stinks, it can’t be worse than the stench coming out of Washington now.

Conservative Political Satire and Climate Change Humor by Les James can be located at Sideshow Mirrors and Mild Max

In the Oval Office. Wednesday January 27, 2010. Just before the State of the Union Address which is scheduled to begin at 9pm Eastern time.

An advisor goes over some of the last remaining business of the day with President Obama.

What should we do about the earthquake that devastated Haiti, Mr. President?

We’ll have to investigate what role Climate Change played in this catastrophe. Assemble a bipartisan committee to research this troublesome matter.

But, Mr. President, What if Global Warming — I mean “Climate Change” had nothing to do with the earthquake?

Come now, you can twist statistics and data to support anything, especially with the right funding, if you know what I mean.

Of course, sir. Government grants can certainly inspire hope, and CHANGE of relevant data when there are threats of withdrawing next year’s grants.

It wasn’t necessary to explain to me what *I* meant.

Of course not, Mr. President. I was just noticing that bucket in the corner and was concerned that you might get your head stuck in it. I was thinking that I should call maintenance and have it removed.

What bucket?

That one over there, Mr. President.

I see no problem with that bucket. I’m quite certain that there is no possibility of it getting stuck. Look. I’ll prove it to you.

No! Mr. President. Dammit! Too late.

See. I told you it wouldn’t get stuck. It comes right… Uh. See you just lift it. Maybe if you just wiggle a little as you lift, then that will… No. Give me hand here. I wouldn’t want to say that this bucket is stuck on my head, but I think an extra pair of hands might just do the trick.

It’s not coming off Mr. President. I think it’s stuck.

No. Just jostle it side to side as you pull. It will pop right off then.

Still not working. I’m pretty certain that it’s stuck. I never should have mentioned it. I know you have a knack for doing these sort of things.

We need to get this off. I have a State of the Union Address coming up and I need to consult the Mighty TelePrompter as to what my postitions are on a few issues. I don’t know where I stand yet. There’s no time!

Maybe Jack Bauer can help. He’s always good in a pinch.

He’s not real you idiot. Get this damn bucket off my head before I have to go live!

A voice came over the PA. “…The man with the plan. He brought Hope. He brought Change. Ladies and gentlemen. Let me present to you, The President of the United States. BaaaaaaaaaaaaRack OoooooooBaaaaaaaaaaamaaaaaaaaaa!”

You’re just going to have to go out there with a bucket on your head sir. I’m sorry.

Yeah. Me too.