Political Humor

What you do, as a heterosexual couple behind closed doors, is your own business. What the rest of you do, is something I don’t even want to contemplate.

I thought we were going to get rid of these disparaging remarks, when the Messiah came into office. I thought it was going to be illegal, or something.

Why then does the Far Left think its alright to label us as Tea Baggers, a sex practice? Actually, I don’t care, and won’t tell you if this is something I enjoy or not.  But…

Here’s an idea, why not give them a label that fits their personalities? Let’s see, the Fascist Left enjoys deviating from the norm. They like to screw around with people’s lives. They are into domination. Bending their constituents over is a daily perversion they truly love. So what might be a fitting term?

I know. How about Mother Felchers?

I win!

Yeah, it’s sick, but I dare anyone to try to top it.

What can you give politicians who have given so much to us?

The season of giving is closing in. The stores are already filled to the rafters with crappy gift ideas. If you’re like me, there’s this one group of people on your list that are always giving you stuff you don’t want, while you break the bank for them. You want to give them something that they haven’t already take from you. What to do, what to do?

We receive countless emails on a daily basis, here at our secret bunker. Many of them asking the same question: What can we little people (who don’t have the platform of an insanely influential political humor blog) do about Washington? Here’s our reply: give your favorite politician a gift that truly reflects your feelings. Let them know how much you appreciate their effort. Besides, it’s your patriotic duty to personally stimulate Fiar‘s, ah…economy. Yeah, that’s it.

It’s been a while since we last offered RL Gear by Radioactive Liberty to the public. We’d like to think it’s been worth the wait. Today we’re proud to introduce four new products, which are sure to be the perfect fit for the politicians on your list.

Shop early.  We never know when our location will be discovered, we’ll be shut down by the Fascist Nanny State, and you’ll be shut out of these great products.

Let’s face it, if our county’s leadership insist on acting like Ass Clowns, they might as well dress the part. Costume includes everything your favorite politician will need to go from Dollar Dumb to Pennywise.  Constructed of  stretchy latex,  this appliance will fit over the head of even the most swollen member of Congress.

Inspired by Rep. Michele Bachmann, the woman Nancy Pelosi loves to hate. You go girl! Solid brass and hand polished, these beauties (like all RL Gear) are made right here in America, in our very own subterranean sweatshop! From the desk where I’m chained, I can see the children -we freed from an ACORN financed brothel- pouring the molten brass into the molds. We keep the labor cost down, and pass the savings on to you.

A fantastic gift for countless elected officials, and most of Obama’s Cabinet and Czars. Pull his string and he blurts out, “Hey, it wasn’t my fault. It was that damned Turbo Tax.” And yes, Rush Limbaugh did borrow the Little Timmy moniker from here, even if he won’t admit it.

What more needs to be said?

We’re practically givin’ ‘em away!

Funny political humor images are one of the best presents you can give. Can there be a better way to share satire or just piss off someone? Please feel free to re-gift any of our pictures or text. The only thing we ask is that you give us a little credit for the hard work. Attribuation or a link back to us is not much to ask, is it?

Oh boy, sleep! That’s where I’m a Southern Baptist Preacher!

Yea, in a deep slumber I was lifted up by a being, that I believe was an Angel. She took me by the hand as we flew through the night air. And I spake to the Angel, “Wherefore art thou taking me? Can ye tell me?” To which the Angel replied, “You betcha.”

We stopped, and hovered in the dark skies, over a great city. Lo and behold, she pointed toward the firmament and said unto me, “Below is a modern Sodom. Below is a Tower of Babel. But there’s a whole lot worse, ya know.”

I looked to which she pointed. “Is this not the seat of our government? Is that not Capital Hill? What in the name of heaven, could be worse?”

The Angel squeezed my hand and I did wince. “Sorry, I use to fish for a living. I guess I don’t know my own strength. But you sure do know your real estate,” she spake to me.

“Why have ye brought me to this unholy place? I beseech thee.” She looked at me through her glasses and smiled. The smile of an Angel, and a bosom to match. I must confess my sin to thee, my brothers and sisters, for I had carnal thoughts. I lusted for this creature.

“Forgive me!” I cried. “For I have had immoral images of me and thee in my mind.”

To which she laughed. “Oh sweetie, there’s nothing to forgive. You’re the one who created all those hot pin-up pictures after all. Of course you want me. At least the fantasy me.”

Then we began to fall. Faster and faster we plunged toward the earth, and I was sore afraid. We fell from the heavens as a meteor, streaking down to a large white house. Despite the Angel’s reassurances, I knew this was to be my punishment for my indiscretion. I was to perish. My mortal body dashed. My flesh rendered. My bones case upon the roof. But it was my soul, for which I did dread.

And behold we passed unscathed, right through the building! Deeper, yet deeper, we went into bowels of the earth. Oh, my friends, my faithful flock, I do not use that term as an allusion. For it did stinketh a great stench. The vile odor doth filled my nose. We moved farther into the earth, through this gaping maw to Hell. Right to it’s very center. To the realm of The Dark One.

A glowing red did meet mine eyes, and a mighty wind did break o’er me. Yet we descended. Until above a vast blood colored lake we did soar. A cry arose from the lake, and yet not just one voice did rise to my hearing, but millions of anguished voices. To my horror, I did see uncountable numbers of forms thrashing in this sea.

And I said unto the Angel, “What is this place? What have these people done to deserve to drown in an ocean of blood?”

The Angel thus spake, “It’s not blood… It’s red ink. They’re drowning in the debt of The Obamanation.”

“Holy Fucking Shit!” I did screameth.

“Oh, yeah. You betcha,” The Angel did reply.

“Angel,” I did implore. “Return me to my bed. Please tell me this is but a shadow of the future.”

“Sorry Charlie, I’m no Angel.” she replied.

Oh, I was much perplexed. Then suddenly I understood. “But governors can’t fly.” I did state.

“I’m not a governor anymore,” she sayeth. “I’m a rogue conservative.” Then she did dropeth me.

Screaming, I did fall, until I landed upon The Beguiler, The Deceiver of Worlds, The Silver-Tongued Serpent, The Man of Many Faces, yet even The Obamanation, and smote him with a great smiting. Yea verily, did I smush him.

Can I get an Amen?

Author’s note: Don’t worry, I was just fine. When you land on that much bull crap, it’s pretty soft. Smelly, but soft. Just like his stand on foreign policy, Afghanistan and, and… But that’s for another sermon.