Political Humor

J.A.R. -Just Another Rant

I’m angry. No, it’s more than that, I royally pissed. Sometimes, I scream at the radio. Other times, I yell at the TV. Occasionally, I’ll write nasty replies to comments from vacuous followers of the Chosen One, who chant “Yes, we can. Yes, we can”, in rhythm to the nodding of their dashboard Obobble Heads.

I feel a little better after that, but it doesn’t last. The problem with writing Cutting Edge Humor (or at least edgy) is that you kind of need to know what’s going on -unless your Fiar. He’s the only person I’ve met who can write this stuff, and be blissfully ignorant of the daily comings and goings of the political world. It’s like he does it by osmosis.

Hang on, I’ve got a better analogy. Fiar’s the frikkin’ Sponge Bob of Blogging. He just soaks it in without ever being aware of the content, then he wrings himself out over a keyboard. And it turns out funny. Damn, he ticks me off too.

Since I am not a porous, chunk of cellulose, I have to do it the old fashion way, I listen, watch and read. I also, yell, scream and write mean things. Can you blame me?

I can poke fun and satirize a lot of topics. But there are certain ones I never joke about. For example, politician’s kids are off limits until they reach 18 and start saying stupid crap, then the gloves come off. Spouses of the same, who keep their mouths shut about political issues, are likewise left alone. My Brothers and Sisters in Arms are verboten. Even though I’m retired, I’ll never stop never stop admiring those who serve, or have served.

Terrorist, on the flip side, are fine targets of opportunity. I’ll take potshots at them anytime I can think up something. These Radical -No T.P. Using, Left Hand Ass Wiping, Cowardly, Goat Smelling, Women Beating, Buy their head gear at Bed, Bath and Beyond, Camel Fornicating, Dress Wearing- Muslim Bastards (may they fry eternally in Hell,) deserve to be lined up next to cliff and herded off like so many lemmings. I see no sense wasting courts on this bunch.

Yeah, I’m saying these foreigners smell bad, dress funny and I want them to die. What of it? They also deserve whatever verbal and/or written barbs that are aimed their direction before that time, but I mean this all in the nicest possible, politically correct, culturally sensitive way.

Now we add Obama into the mix with these Flaming Fagots*, and I’m ready to burst a blood vessel in my head. Civilian Trials for them in New York? Give me break. Obama gets his tax cheat friends off, and now he’s setting up a scenario to get Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, a.k.a. KSM, and his merry band of blow-up buddies off. Hey, if you’re going to split an infinitive, do it right.

*FYI -a fagot is a small bundle of sticks used to start a larger fire. Tell me if that isn’t fitting?

Barack Hussein Obama -needing to always be the center of attention- has assigned himself the role of pivot man in this never ending circle jerk. The sad part is, that while all his terrorist, fascist, tax evading, lying, Mao loving, two-faced friends are getting off, we’re the ones who are getting jerked.

Sorry, that’s all I’ve got. No solutions, just a harmless release of pent-up frustration and hostility. Where’s a blue dress when you need one? That punch-line will never get old!

Thanks for reading this rant. I feel better now. You really ought to try it. You know you want to. The comment box is waiting. As long as you’re on the Right Side of things -just this once- I promise not to make fun of you.

This offer isn’t extended to the writers or management of Radioactive Liberty. Looks like you’re Sierra Oscar Lima there fellas.

President Barack Hussein Obama (mmm, mmm, mmm) calls in a hack computer guy with marginal Photoshop skills to help him design the New American Flag. They sit in the Oval Office.

Obama: “How do you use that thing? I don’t see a teleprompter?”

Hack: “It’s a laptop, Mr. President. The screen’s sort of like a teleprompter.”

Obama: “I see. Hum. I like it. Now, I was thinking we should start with the current flag and see how I can improve it. ”

Hack: “No problem sir…”

Obama : “That’s Mr. President.”

Hack: Oh, sorry Mr. President. Okay, here’s the U.S. flag we have today.”

Obama: “You see the basic problem, don’t you. It has red strips that represents Red States. Also there’s more red strips than white. Sends the wrong message.”

Hack: “Not an issue, Mr. President. I’ll just get rid of the red ones. There, what do you think?”

Obama: “Better, but still not right. Now there’s too much white.

Hack: “I see your point. Okay, how about this?”

Obama: “I don’t know. How many stars are on the thing?”

Hack: “Well, ah… there are 50, Mr. President.”

Obama: “See, I knew something was wrong. During the campaign I got to all but one state. Now I’ve been to all 58 states. So add eight more stars.”

Hack: “Ah… yes Mr. President.”

Obama: “That’s a total mess. Let me think. I know, I’m a star. Matter of fact, I’m The Star, so how about one big one instead?”

Hack: “Like this?”

Obama: “Crap, now it reminds me of the Texas flag. That’ll never do. Get rid of the star.”

Obama: “Getting there. Except that blue looks too confrontational. Give me something a little more soothing. Something that says, “Hey, we’ve screwed-up. We’re sorry for all our transgressions, real or perceived.”

Hack: “What do you think of this, Mr. President?”

Obama: “Great color. But it’s still missing something.”

Hack: “Mr President, if I may be so bold…”

Obama: “Yeah, go ahead, but I’ll take credit for it if it’s a good idea.”

Hack: “Of course, Mr. President. I’d be honored for you to take credit for my idea.”

Obama: “Whatever. Just get on with it.”

Obama: “PERFECT!”

I’m really pissed-off. Want to know why? Whether you do or not, I’m going to tell you anyway.

It’s like this, did I get any money from the National Endowment for the Arts? No! Did I get to be in on the teleconference with Buffy The Walmart Slayer Wicks? No! Did I get asked to do art work for our Beloved Leader. No! No! And hell no!

Why not? I don’t understand it. My stuff is just as good as all those so called “artist”. Well, I don’t care why.  Screw ‘em. So instead of shilling for Obama, I got something for their non-art appreciating asses.

I call it,

Obama’s a Monster

And here are the pictures to prove it.

The NEA should have just ponied-up some taxpayer cash. I bet next year I’ll get a grant. Sorry sons of bitches.