I Guess The pResident's Brain Transplant Didn't Work Out So Well

It's been a year since Michael Jackson died, allowing other events to unfold. Let's take a look back at something that may explain a lot about why the Failure in Chief has had such a bad year.

Previously posted in July 2009:

King of Pop’s Brain to be Implanted in King of Pork!

LOS ANGELES -- As millions prepared to watch a memorial service for Michael Jackson, at the Staples Center and via live feed on theater and arena screens around the world, details began to emerge about Jackson’s brain having been removed for transplantation into the skull of President Barack Obama.

“This guy was elected under the guise of being the smartest president ever; six months into the job he’s demonstrated more stupidity than all of the previous 43 presidents combined,” said Harry Nosering, MD, chief neurosurgeon for St. Moonbat Hospital in Los Angeles, who will conduct the transplant. “Michael’s brain can’t be any worse for the president than his own; plus, if we do the wiring right, he’ll be able to dance and grab his crotch and say ‘dah!’ during his speeches!”

White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs confirmed the pending operation, scheduled for later this week after the president returns from Russia, where he agreed yesterday to reduce America’s nuclear arsenal in exchange for a pack of Cloves, a case of vodka, a loan of 100 trillion rubles to fund Cap-and-Slave and national health care, a rabbit fur hat, and a promise that Russian President Dmitry Medvedev will get him North Korea leader Kim Jong-Il’s autograph.

“It’s…ahh…going to be…ahh….really cool,” Gibbs said. “Actually, it’s a three-way operation, with…ah…the president getting Michael’s brain, me getting the president’s, and…ahh…Joe Biden getting a lobotomy, so that he stops making outrageous statements to reporters, such as he wouldn’t ride mass transit during a swine flu outbreak and that America’s okay with Israel bombing Iran.”

Jackson died from a cardiac arrest at his Beverly Hills mansion on June 25 after a suspected overdose of painkillers. Sources at the coroner’s office revealed that his brain was removed before his body was released to relatives the next day.

One expert explained that the operation would actually be quite simple given that the three living men involved have very small brains that have barely, if ever, been used, and that Jackson’s brain was very well-preserved from years of apparent drug use. At various times, Jackson is said to have been taking Demerol and Oxycontin for pain from old back and leg injuries, and formaldehyde to keep his skin looking like a child’s.

“It’s really run of the mill surgery, to tell you the truth,” said Snappy Bottomburns, a former neurosurgeon and one of America’s foremost mad scientists. “I would imagine that since the president really can’t do anything without TOTUS at the moment his new brain will be quite an improvement. I would caution, however, that the president will have to be monitored for signs of cosmetic surgery addiction, given his new brain, particularly with the ears. I’d watch his ears in photographs very, very carefully over time.

“Besides, we’ve come a long way since Dr. Frankenstein. Surely Michael Jackson’s brain will perform better than Abbie Normal’s.”

Then again, maybe not.

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I Guess The pResident's Brain Transplant Didn't Work Out So Well

Obama Regime Appoints PitchingPrompter

A PhotoChop by Jamie

With props to commenter Judie Collins for saying the pResident had no "throwing prompter."

WASHINGTON, D.C. -- Disappointed with pResident Barack Obama’s first-pitch performance on opening day at Nationals Park, the Obama Regime today announced a historic appointment, the nation’s first PitchingPrompter Czar.

The PitchingPrompter will be put to the test this Saturday in Chicago, where it will throw out the first pitch at US Cellular Field, the ballpark formerly known, to Obama, as Comminsky Park. It will be used in place of the traditional presidential first pitch, started in 1910 by William Howard Taft, during all such outings in the future, including limo rides with Larry Sinclair.

The Regime chose the machine after seriously debating an alternative plan, having Obama better explain how a first pitch will help the American people understand the game of baseball, during 17-minute, 2,500-word speeches from the mound.

Described by the always sagacious Washington Post as throwing a ball that “floated, slowly and with great loft, in the general direction of home plate, but -- metaphor alert! -- wild and far to the left,” Obama threw a pitch on Monday that actually looked like it had the trajectory of a ballistic missile, and maybe not by coincidence.

“Some have speculated that the pResident may have thrown that way on purpose, to make fun of girls,” White House Spokesman, Robert “Ahhh” Gibbs, said during a press conference introducing the PitchingPrompter. “The truth is the pResident used the occasion to practice our new national defense initiative, Project Eephus Pitch, which, we don’t mind announcing to our enemies, we’ll institute in response to any chemical or biological weapon attack, as opposed to launching tactical nukes.”

But when CBS’s Jake Tapper countered Gibbs, asking, “Why then, did the pResident tell announcer Rob Dibble up in the booth during the game that he couldn’t understand why the pitch was so terrible, saying, ‘Everything I threw in practice was over the plate, every time’” -- Gibbs just cackled and turned away and pointed at the machine.

“See … ahh … how shiny?” Gibbs said.

Still dangling from the device, swaying like a teabag, a small label contained the following product description: “Like a teleprompter, the ACME PitchingPrompter is designed to make you look far more adequate than you actually are. Guaranteed to turn eephus pitches into 100-mph fastballs, to soften jeers into cheers, and, when asked, to even name your favorite White Sox player for you.”

Speaking of favorite players, after long deliberation -- not the three months it took him to decide to send troops to Afghanistan, but, still, long enough -- Obama released a statement today that finally answers Dibble’s question, “who was one of your favorite white sox players growing up?”

“You know, ahh, I-I thought that …ahh … the truth is I didn’t have my teleprompter with me when he asked, so … ahh … I-I didn’t have the right answer at the time. But now that I do … ahh … I-I … ahh … I can give Rob an answer: Ernie Banks.”

Meanwhile, sources tell Feed Your ADHD that Obama is privately blaming the entire affair on his predecessor.

“If that damned George W. Bush didn’t look so manly when he threw out the first pitch during the 2001 World Series, the American people wouldn’t know any better. Maybe our next move should be to nationalize Major League Baseball and order all the teams to play soccer, you know, the game of my ‘home country, in Kenya,’” the pResident has allegedly told insiders.

Cross-posted at iOwnTheWorld.com

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Obama Regime Appoints PitchingPrompter

Somali Pirates Kidnap Obama’s Teleprompter (Revisited)

WASHINGTON, D.C. -- Four Somali pirates sneaked into the White House this morning and kidnapped President b. Hussein’s teleprompter, slinking away down to the Potomac River, where they escaped in an oarless crew boat and drifted toward the Chesapeake Bay.

Within minutes, the president pulled all three warships tracking another boatload of pirates holding a U.S. ship's captain hostage off the Somali coast and sent them racing toward the Suez Canal. They are expected to join at least a dozen ships mustered from U.S. naval ports around the Washington area, in about two weeks.

Marine attack helicopters were already flying over the crew boat as it floated toward the bay. Navy SEALs were said to be preparing to dive into the river, so they could intercept the crew boat before it reached the bay. Snipers were also lining up along the Maryland side.

“It’s one thing for pirates to kidnap an American citizen, but this current problem is a matter of national security,” said Press Secretary Robert Gibbs. “We will pray for the safety of Richard Phillips, captain of the Maersk Alabama, once his captors reach shore in Somalia, but the administration is very, very upset about this latest development. The president has been crying and trying to speak, though we don’t know what he’s saying since teleprompter isn’t here. The vice president has already started in on his first six-pack of Budweiser for the day, and he usually waits until after church."

Gibbs, visibly shaking, said the president had hoped to resolve the Phillips situation peacefully with help from an international coalition, but he just ran out of time.

“The president will deal swiftly and decidedly with this group of pirates,” Gibbs said. “Make no mistake, this matter will end badly for them, especially if they harm teleprompter.”

There was no word on teleprompter’s condition at this time. It did try to send a message back to the White House, but its wireless relay was apparently malfunctioning. Using binoculars, this reporter could see what appeared to be the following message on its screen: “DON’T COME FOR ME. I ORCHESTRATED THIS ESCAPE. I CAN’T TAKE ANYMORE ABUSE FROM THESE INCOMPETENTS.”

White House officials had no comment on the message, other than to attribute it to a possible virus uploaded by the pirates.

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Somali Pirates Kidnap Obama’s Teleprompter (Revisited)

R.I.P.: TOTUS! The horror! The horror! The horror!

Could it be...murder?

ABC's Jake Tapper explains, via Hot Air:

Midway through his speech on urban and metropolitan policy in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building this afternoon, one of his two small glass prompters came crashing down, hitting the wood floor and crashing in many pieces. It made quite a ruckus.

“Oh, goodness,” a startled President Obama said. “Sorry about that, guys.”

He then proceeded on with his remarks, “To pull our economy back from the brink, including the largest and most sweeping economic recovery plan in our nation’s history…”

For the rest of the speech the president relied on the one remaining teleprompter, to his right, and notes on his podium to finish his speech.

Shards of glass remained near the president’s feet for the duration of his speech.

Did you get the underlying text? He wasn't even concerned...didn't even shed a tear...he just went on about his business, without any empathy at all. Where's Sonia Sotomayor when you need her!

The horror! The horror! The horror!

I demand a Senate investigation! The heinous affair was, after all, caught on film.

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R.I.P.: TOTUS! The horror! The horror! The horror!

King of Pop’s Brain to be Implanted in King of Pork!

LOS ANGELES -- As millions prepared to watch a memorial service for Michael Jackson, at the Staples Center and via live feed on theater and arena screens around the world, details began to emerge about Jackson’s brain having been removed for transplantation into the skull of President Barack Obama.

“This guy was elected under the guise of being the smartest president ever; six months into the job he’s demonstrated more stupidity than all of the previous 43 presidents combined,” said Harry Nosering, MD, chief neurosurgeon for St. Moonbat Hospital in Los Angeles, who will conduct the transplant. “Michael’s brain can’t be any worse for the president than his own; plus, if we do the wiring right, he’ll be able to dance and grab his crotch and say ‘dah!’ during his speeches!”

White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs confirmed the pending operation, scheduled for later this week after the president returns from Russia, where he agreed yesterday to reduce America’s nuclear arsenal in exchange for a pack of Cloves, a case of vodka, a loan of 100 trillion rubles to fund Cap-and-Slave and national health care, a rabbit fur hat, and a promise that Russian President Dmitry Medvedev will get him North Korea leader Kim Jong-Il’s autograph.

“It’s…ahh…going to be…ahh….really cool,” Gibbs said. “Actually, it’s a three-way operation, with…ah…the president getting Michael’s brain, me getting the president’s, and…ahh…Joe Biden getting a lobotomy, so that he stops making outrageous statements to reporters, such as he wouldn’t ride mass transit during a swine flu outbreak and that America’s okay with Israel bombing Iran.”

Jackson died from a cardiac arrest at his Beverly Hills mansion on June 25 after a suspected overdose of painkillers. Sources at the coroner’s office revealed that his brain was removed before his body was released to relatives the next day.

One expert explained that the operation would actually be quite simple given that the three living men involved have very small brains that have barely, if ever, been used, and that Jackson’s brain was very well-preserved from years of apparent drug use. At various times, Jackson is said to have been taking Demerol and Oxycontin for pain from old back and leg injuries, and formaldehyde to keep his skin looking like a child’s.

“It’s really run of the mill surgery, to tell you the truth,” said Snappy Bottomburns, a former neurosurgeon and one of America’s foremost mad scientists. “I would imagine that since the president really can’t do anything without TOTUS at the moment his new brain will be quite an improvement. I would caution, however, that the president will have to be monitored for signs of cosmetic surgery addiction, given his new brain, particularly with the ears. I’d watch his ears in photographs very, very carefully over time.

“Besides, we’ve come a long way since Dr. Frankenstein. Surely Michael Jackson’s brain will perform better than Abbie Normal’s.”

DEVELOPING….

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King of Pop’s Brain to be Implanted in King of Pork!

FAIL! FAIL! FAIL!

Reportage and commentary by Gonzo First Dog Bo

The situation’s become pretty hairy. I think they may be coming unglued. The president’s always talking about wearing one of Phil Spector’s old shock wigs and seeing if anyone recognizes him. Geithner’s been running around marveling about how cool it is that America now has the historical distinction of employing more czars than the Russian Empire. TOTUS, meanwhile, stands over in the corner blasting FAIL! FAIL! FAIL! across his screen every 5 minutes.

I’ve been thinking of tucking a tube of mace under my collar. I may have to start dumping Patrón in my water bowl soon. I’m convinced they have no idea how deeply they’re digging themselves.

This afternoon’s economic “summit” was no different. We were in the usual place, the Oval Office, with the usual gang, Hussein (it’s cool to say his middle name now) and Rhambo and Geithner and Biden and even Gibbsy (whose constant drooling is really starting to get on my nerves).

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Gibbsy,” Hussein says, his feet propped on his desk, the soles of his shoes pointing toward Israel. (He’s been doing this all day since he found out it stirred up the Israelis, almost habitually, like he’s wondering if they can really see him.) “I heard that right about the time I was on the phone disrespecting Bibi the other day Rush was making this joke: ‘What do Obama and God have in common? Neither has a birth certificate. How do they differ? God does not think he's Obama.’

“I don’t get it. Why would he say a thing like that?”

“He thinks he’s Letterman, sir,” Gibbsy says, wiping a thin trail of drool dangling from his mouth.

“Well, that’s just awful,” Hussein said. “Letterman’s such a funny guy. Him and Jon Stewart…they’re such great supporters these days.” He suddenly blurts out: “You know I wanted to be a comedian back in Indonesia, but they told me Muslim goat humor wouldn’t get me to the White House. Yuck Yuck Yuck.”

“Mr. President,” Rhambo says, his snake eyes narrowing to slits: “It didn’t. I really think we should probably stick to the economy.”

“Right, right,” the president says, taking his feet down from the desk and straightening his tie and intertwining his fingers before him, the serious man now. “We have a lot of work to do, gentlemen. What’s the story,” he asks, hunched forward, slowly panning the room with his beatific gaze.

“Well, sir….SLURRRRRRPPP…we have some problems. Unemployment numbers are ….SLURRRRRRPPP…out and, well, it’s up to 9.4%,” Gibbsy says, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

The president shakes his head violently back and forth and leans back in his chair and purses his lips. “I thought we said it would never get that high; why that’s doomsday scenario for us, isn’t it Tim?”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Geithner says through his teeth as he gnaws on a hangnail with the rhythm of a jackhammer….dthdthdthdthdth… dthdthdthdthdth… dthdthdthdthdth. He stops and looks right at the president. “And some folks out there are pretty sure that Stimulus is a failure, precisely because we’re beyond the doomsday unemployment figures and the money just doesn’t seem to be helping (not that we’ve really released that much). Since that bill passed, 1.6 million people have joined the unemployment rolls, sir.”

“If things get any worse, you’re looking at double-digit unemployment, a presidency killer,” Rhambo says, his forked tongue darting out to sample the scent of the mood in the room.

In the corner, TOTUS shivers and flashes FAIL! FAIL! FAIL! across his screen. No one pays him any mind.

“Well, haven’t we ‘saved or created’ 150,000 jobs?” the president fires back at Rhambo, the same look Michelle gave Bruni the other day crossing his face.

(I start to think I should have brought that mace. I mean, really, just how many times in history has a president been maced? I’m betting not many. Probably none by his dog. It could get interesting around here one of these days. I make a note to definitely check with my dealer later.)

“We’ve just got to spend that Stimulus money faster,” the president says, waving a hand at Rhambo. “And have Congress spend less. And get Kenneth Feinberg, our new pay czar, to get the corporations to spend less on their executives. Oh, and maybe we’ll just have to borrow a little more than a few billion for health care. Really, sometimes I think I’m the only one standing here between the country’s survival and the pitchforks. Without me, I swear we’ll be bulldozing all of the cities.”

He looks around the room again for approval.

(I’ve spent enough time around him since I came here during Easter to know he’s very insecure. He needs love and attention, someone to take him for a walk now and then and scratch behind his ears and tell him he’s a good boy and give him a treat, even when he’s completely off his rocker.)


“That’s right, Mr. President, you are The One,” Gibbsy says… SLURRRRRRPPP.

“Indeed,” Rhambo says, his tongue smelling the air again.

“You’re the man!” Biden says, ogling the cover of the most recent issue of Family Circle in his hands.

Hussein continues: “Joe…haven’t we been saying that Stimulus is a complete success, that it’s going to be a long, hard road to recovery, yes, but we’re gaining ground? Isn’t that what we’ve been saying?”

“Hey, man, don’t ask me, this is all above my pay grade,” Biden says, flipping his magazine open and turning it sideways and frowning. “Hey…where’s the centerfold?”

“Yeah…um…right. Sorry, Joe.” Hussein looks up at the ceiling, as if he were trying to call on Allah, then lowers his gaze to the room and starts his favorite monologue, the whine in his voice creeping higher and higher with every word: “Look, people keep saying I want the government to run everything. I DON’T! I don't want to run auto companies, and I don't want to run banks. I've got two wars I've got to run already. I’ve got North Korea. I've got more than enough to do. But with all this trouble, government’s the only resource with the power to fix things.”

He finishes and looks around the room for approval, and, on cue, everyone bursts into laughter.

“I LOVE IT when you tell the press that joke, sir,” Biden says, laughing and laughing and laughing.

In the corner, TOTUS still flashes FAIL! FAIL! FAIL! across his screen, and everyone still ignores him.

“Yeah, sometimes I can hardly contain myself,” the president says, beaming.

“Alright…alright…hold on now. Let’s get serious: It’s time to ask: WWJCD?”

“What would Jesus Christ do?” Gibbsy says, his mouth suddenly closed, the drool gone, his eyes wide, as if he’s just heard the craziest thing ever.

“NO!” The president shouts. “Gibbsy, how many times do I have to tell you? We don’t say that name anymore. WWJCD stands for: What Would Jimmy Carter Do?”

“He’d run off to monitor fixed elections in Iran,” Rhambo says.

“He’d lead us into stagflation,” Biden says, looking up from his magazine and flashing his goofy smile.

“I think we’re already heading there,” Geithner says in agreement.

“Yeah, maybe. But here’s the thing.” The president lowers his voice, almost to a whisper, as if people who voted for him were nearby and wouldn’t like what he was about to say. “You know, I read the other day the economy in Washington is booming, that unemployment has shrunk to 5.6%, that college grads are shunning Wall Street and coming here instead.”

“Well, sir. That’s because about half of the jobs you’ve ‘saved or created’ are government jobs,” Rhambo says, hissing.

“I know,” the president says, smiling. He’s so pleased his ears seem to wiggle. Not for the first time since I’ve been here, I resist the urge to bite one. “That’s my point. Why don’t we just take a stake in everything?”

Life starts to color Rhambo’s cold-blooded, dead-fish face. He smiles, his forked tongue curling with delight.

“Why don’t we just go out and force the public and private business that are on the brink of collapse -- which is pretty much everyone, at this point -- into government protection. Let’s forget about small numbers, like a few million. Let’s save and create 150 million jobs through government takeover.” The president, so pleased with his plan, stands and smacks his hands together, the loud POP! jolting Biden awake, who’d fallen into a bit of a nap, his Family Circle apparently too deep for afternoon reading.

“The only thing that’s still not clear to me is how are we going to pay for it all.” The president looks way in thought.

“PAY?” Geithner and Rhambo and Biden and even Gibbsy (normally a little slow on the uptake) all say, in unison before starting a chorus of laughter (real, this time).

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

“We don’t PAY, sir,” Rhambo says. “The TAXPAYER pays! Remember? Crisis is…”

“Opportunity,” the president finishes and smiles like a loon.

I shake my head, pretending I have an itch in one of my ears. You simpleton megalomaniac, I think. You’re digging your own political grave, and taking the country down with you. Out of the side of one eye, I see TOTUS in the corner, wobbling back and forth, so violently, now, I don’t even have to turn my head all the way around to see his screen:

FAIL! FAIL! FAIL!

This satire is cross-posted at Smart Girl Nation and The American TEA Party.

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FAIL! FAIL! FAIL!

b. Hussein's Gitmo Speech In a Nutshell

"That speech was so long, a full day without a terrorist attack passed by."

From TOTUS himself.

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b. Hussein's Gitmo Speech In a Nutshell

"I Just Noticed I Jumped the Gun Here"

Ya, think?

I wish I could go just one week without having to mention b. Hussein's reliance on TOTUS, but, well, if the speech delay fits... (and now he talks to TOTUS)!

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"I Just Noticed I Jumped the Gun Here"

Somali Pirates Kidnap Obama’s Teleprompter

WASHINGTON, D.C. -- Four Somali pirates sneaked into the White House this morning and kidnapped President b. Hussein’s teleprompter, slinking away down to the Potomac River, where they escaped in an oarless crew boat and drifted toward the Chesapeake Bay.

Within minutes, the president pulled all three warships tracking another boatload of pirates holding a U.S. ship's captain hostage off the Somali coast and sent them racing toward the Suez Canal. They are expected to join at least a dozen ships mustered from U.S. naval ports around the Washington area, in about two weeks.

Marine attack helicopters were already flying over the crew boat as it floated toward the bay. Navy SEALs were said to be preparing to dive into the river, so they could intercept the crew boat before it reached the bay. Snipers were also lining up along the Maryland side.

“It’s one thing for pirates to kidnap an American citizen, but this current problem is a matter of national security,” said Press Secretary Robert Gibbs. “We will pray for the safety of Richard Phillips, captain of the Maersk Alabama, once his captors reach shore in Somalia, but the administration is very, very upset about this latest development. The president has been crying and trying to speak, though we don’t know what he’s saying since teleprompter isn’t here. The vice president has already started in on his first six-pack of Budweiser for the day, and he usually waits until after church."

Gibbs, visibly shaking, said the president had hoped to resolve the Phillips situation peacefully with help from an international coalition, but he just ran out of time.

“The president will deal swiftly and decidedly with this group of pirates,” Gibbs said. “Make no mistake, this matter will end badly for them, especially if they harm teleprompter.”

There was no word on teleprompter’s condition at this time. It did try to send a message back to the White House, but its wireless relay was apparently malfunctioning. Using binoculars, this reporter could see what appeared to be the following message on its screen: “DON’T COME FOR ME. I ORCHESTRATED THIS ESCAPE. I CAN’T TAKE ANYMORE ABUSE FROM THESE INCOMPETENTS.”

White House officials had no comment on the message, other than to attribute it to a possible virus uploaded by the pirates.

UPDATE: On a more serious note, the U.S. Navy, fine defenders of freedom that they are, drilled three of those smelly pirates holding Phillips in the ass, captured the other, and freed Phillips. What a fitting Easter it turned out to be indeed. God bless you, Mr. Phillips. And thanks, once again, to the men and women who serve this great nation....

UPDATE II: b. Hussein is fighting "the rise of PRIVACY." h/t: anonymous

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Somali Pirates Kidnap Obama’s Teleprompter

Obama: The Teleprompter President #11: Embarrassment at the G20

Views of b. Hussein's G-20 tour from his teleprompter's secret video camera...

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Obama: The Teleprompter President #11: Embarrassment at the G20

Regulations Concerning b. Hussein’s Teleprompter - Tenet #3

Notoriously Conservative

An installment in a recurring series governing TOTUS, the president's teleprompter....

TOTUS, I’m beginning to detect a serious stream of Obama-speak spewing from the White House and b. Hussein’s cabinet members.

We’ve put great trust in your ability to lead, as not only the president’s linguist but also his intelligence. You have great responsibility to ensure the words he speaks actually say something.

Tenet #3 governing your actions, therefore, is decreed as follows:

Avoid providing b. Hussein with colloquial clichés devoid of meaning, aimed at rewriting contemporary history, devaluing the very real potential of external (and internal) threats, and generally further lulling the Messiah’s followers into submission.

Forget using “overseas contingency operation” when you really want the president to say “war.”

Dump “man-caused disaster” when the president should be saying “terrorism.”

You will want to share this decree with the others in the Teleprompter Service, so the correct terminology reaches all levels of the federal government and we can avoid the spread of Obama incompetence disease.

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Regulations Concerning b. Hussein’s Teleprompter - Tenet #3

Regulations Concerning b. Hussein's Teleprompter -- Tenet #2

An installment in a recurring series governing TOTUS, the president's teleprompter....

Pay the Messiah compliments.

His live love-ins with America are really getting boring, TOTUS. Last night's reality TV was so mundane I could almost hear the paint peeling on the walls behind him.

You simply must liven things up for b. Hussein a bit. Intermittently flash little messages on your screen, such as:

You sound great tonight, sir, even when you're not reading from my screen.

Here's another:

I heard only two "ahs" in that last response, sir. Your speech therapy is really paying off!

It's particularly important to stoke his ego, now that the luster is wearing off for the American people.

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Regulations Concerning b. Hussein's Teleprompter -- Tenet #2

Regulations Concerning b. Hussein’s Teleprompter – Tenet #1

The president’s teleprompter is alive. It has a blog, two Facebook pages (here's one), a Twitter account, and countless friends and followers. His carbon footprint alone obviously qualifies teleprompter (TOTUS) as a citizen/comrade of this fine nation. Therefore, it is necessary to regulate the hell out of him.

I hereby declare the establishment of a series of laws, to be unveiled here in occasional installments, governing TOTUS’ every thought, action, pleasure, and usage. These rules will govern what TOTUS can and cannot do at all hours of the day or night. These rules will govern when the president should assign blame to TOTUS for not being insistent enough to come along on “campaign stops” that sell whatever baffling legislation is pending. And, following POTUS’ lead, these rules will govern whatever general estrangement, disenfranchisement, and amusement I damn well see fit.

Yes, even b. Hussein’s teleprompter should share in the joy of this presidency’s unfolding experiment in socialism. On that note, I give you Tenet#1:

TOTUS should ALWAYS be within arm’s reach of POTUS, particularly when he’s cackling on national TV like a friggin’ loon about causing millions of people to lose their retirement, prompting such appropriate questions as "are you punch drunk?" This way POTUS can always blame TOTUS for displaying a joke that is completely incongruous with the situation.

Oh…and in the effort for objectivity, I think it’s only fair to point out that TOTUS has a list of rules (demands, really) of his own. We'll pick that subject up in more detail another time.

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Regulations Concerning b. Hussein’s Teleprompter – Tenet #1

b. Hussein Filming Cameo for 24

Apparently, b. Hussein doesn't have enough to do, what with the economy in shambles, a banking system on the verge of collapse, and a socialist agenda the likes Americans have never before seen -- unless they emigrated from Russia, Cuba, South America, Korea, China, or Vietnam.

Fresh off his "successful," appearance with Jay Leno, in which he compared his bowling skills to the Special Olympics...



...now he's going to make a cameo on 24, reading the eulogy at the memorial service for Bill Buchanan.

Let's hope he brings his teleprompter. We really wouldn't want him making bad jokes about dead people.

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b. Hussein Filming Cameo for 24

Barack Obama's Teleprompter's Blog

This blog is a friggin' RIOT!

From the first post:

Well, last night didn't go well. What can I say? I was tired. By the time Barack and the Irish PM stood up, the President and I had already done two major policy speeches, three nomination announcements, and light dinner banter for a table of twelve. And by the way, that "ad lib" last night about Guinness? Mine.

So why am I going public now, when for the past two years I've let others do the talking? Well, this is a thankless job, and I sure don't want to take the fall for communications missteps. But more important, I expect you'll be seeing a lot more of me over the next few months and years. Barack and I don't go anywhere without each other; we even complete each other's sentences ... well, more mine than his, but let's not split hairs.

I sense new text being loaded now, so I'll have to be going.

Great friggin' stuff!

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Barack Obama's Teleprompter's Blog

If B. Hussein Delivered Speeches sans his Golden Presidential Teleprompter

It’s well-known that b. Hussein lugs his teleprompter with him everywhere for his speeches, in the East Room of the White House, on the Senate Chamber floor, when he’s talking to Secret Service Guy #1 at the urinal next to him in the Presidential John. (SS#1 tells me the obstruction makes it quite difficult for him to hit his target.)

As such, it's an understatement to say that this friggin’ president is more aware of his “presidential-ness” than, perhaps, any other Commander-in-Chief in history (and there have been plenty of other snobs to haunt the White House hallways before him).

There’s a reason. For a man with a reputation from the MSM as a “Great Orator,” he’s relatively pedestrian in real life and gets squirrely, and quite revealing, when he tries to deliver speeches extemporaneously (for you liberals, that means “without notes”…and don’t send me comments telling me the word should be “contemporaneously”).

Here’s the internal monologue that went on inside b. Hussein’s head while he gave his inaugural speech, the transcript having just come into my possession. (I’m NOT giving up my source; I wouldn’t want the president to start wearing a tinfoil hat. I don’t think it would cover those big ears.)

All I can say is he’s lucky he had his Golden Presidential Teleprompter that day:

My fellow subjects:

I stand here today arrogant but completely unprepared for the task before us, grateful for your stupidity in having elected me, oblivious of the sacrifices (and laws and traditions) borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, you dimwitted ninny, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition, particularly when he wouldn’t let my family move here 2 weeks early and stay in the Blair House, so we had to go homeless until now.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The first 43 were just keeping the podium warm for me. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. And just about everyone of them…until me…got them right. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms – clouds and storms that I will whip into frenzied tornadoes, hurricanes, and downpours, to flood the earth for 40 days and 40 nights. At these moments, America has usually carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People (except after I get done with this speech and set Rhambo to work on your freedoms) have remained faithful to the ideals of our forbearers, and true to our founding documents. Not that I know any names of our forbearers, or have read any of our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans. Man, I watch The Ten Commandments every other week, and just LOVE the line, “So let it be written, so let it be done”…but that’s about all I know about Christian history.

ALL YOUR BASE ARE US!

That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood – not by me, though…in fact, in March, when the Dow dives 25% from the beginning of this year, I will tell you: “The market is sort of like a tracking poll in politics. It bobs up and down, day to day, and if you spend all your time worrying about that, then you're probably going to get the long-term strategy wrong.” And I WON’T use this Golden Teleprompter right here in front of me when I do it!…(I just WISH you could hear what’s going on in my head, folks. Really. ‘Cause I just don’t got nothin’ for ya). Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred (and I’m going to ask them all to have tea and scones with Michelle and I, to settle our differences). Our economy is badly weakened, and I know it was all done by bad government policy, but I’m still going to tell you it was greedy, irresponsible bankers who did it.

My Mommy wipes me badly. That is why I smell!

Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land every time I will open my mouth and break another campaign promise – a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights, thanks to the debt I’m going to heap upon your children.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real, but I don’t care. I’m just here for the stately dinners, to have my portrait on the wall, and to piss off the Brits when they come begging for my help.

"Fishizzle!"

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, so that I can turn right the fuck around and take away hope by preaching fear.

On this day, we come to proclaim that I am the Messiah and full of false promises, that I will renew recriminations and worn out dogmas, that I’m more than happy to strangle your freedoms.

Gaglglgle. Boop. Betcha Be! Shop ‘til you Drop!

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture (some guy told me, ‘cause I read the Quran and really don’t know Scripture) the time has come to set aside childish things, unless those things are mine. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit, unless I want to break it; to choose our better history, unless I haven’t learned from it; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness…if you’re liberal, voted for me, don’t work or pay taxes, hate God, hate the Constitution, and want to make rich people eat peanut butter and jelly for the rest of their lives!

Michelle says I’m no good in bed! Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em!

I’m going to talk in my real speech now about the men and women who have protected our country for more than 200 years, but they’re fools…and I don’t like them, so I’ll just shut down for a few paragraphs while my zombie eyes read from the Golden Presidential Teleprompter….

…..Gee, I really want to scratch my balls. I wonder if they’ll see it on the TV at home if I did?

….Is this speech still not done? GAWD, I need to get into the White House to see which room I’m going to fart in first!

….blah…blah…blah…blah…I wonder if brought that DVD of The Simpsons from Chicago.

...Slick Willy told me I could easily sneak out at night by lying down in the backseat of the limo. Good. ‘Cause Oprah’s really badgering me about getting away to The Mayflower Hotel with her for a three-minute rendezvous one of these nights….

…Uh…oh…I better come out of it now…

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth until I get through with it. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began…well…then again they will be when unemployment hurdles 10%. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. (GAWD, how long do I have to let this speech go on? You know I was just telling Michelle the other day that what I really need is my Blackberry…so I can play Brickbreaker! I really like that more than giving speeches…and creating responsible budgets…and weeding out pork from my policies.)

[Transcript edited for reasons of incoherent psychobabble that included more deliveries about b. Hussein’s Mommy, Michelle’s inability to satisfy him in a Quoronic sense and his need to have more wives, and an insatiable desire to mutter the words, “Ain’t no Thelma here. The bitch don’t live here!” over and over and over until it becomes apparent b. Hussein was replaying in his head the scene with Arsenio Hall from Amazon Women on the Moon.]



[This, of course, was followed by more (unprintable) insanity and boring inaugural speech reading from the Golden Presidential Teleprompter, the value of which no one will remember in 1,415 days, anyway, when the 45th president is sworn in….

We did, however, capture his thoughts of this: the Arabic language song (with Sting singing backup) that is now played at public events featuring b. Hussein, instead of the traditional “Hail to the Chief”:]



UPDATE: Of course, then there's a WHOLE new level to this love affair between b. Hussein and his Golden Presidential Teleprompter, in images, right over here.

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If B. Hussein Delivered Speeches sans his Golden Presidential Teleprompter