Barry Obama’s Donnie Darko ‘Easter’ Adventure

Greetings, asshandlers! ‘Tis I, the greatest of Friday authoresses, here to impart wisdom and Journalistik Insightz about something other than the fucking Great White Wedding of the Year. While it is funzies to watch a nice rich inbred “English” boy whose real surname is “Saxe-Coburg and Gotha” mix up the gene pool with fresh blood so as to avoid the dreaded mandibular prognathism/shark eyes/trouty mouth of his forebears, it is even better to watch President Barack Obama present his freedman papers to the mob of angry stupid Amurrrican whites with their lynchin’ ropes and their switches, i.e., your asshole grandparents and idiot cousins. Let us dive into the weekly column that ought to be called Zebra Beat, because it follows this president who is BLACK AND WHITE BOTH AT ONCE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! As per usual, our guide is Official White House Pornographer Arun Chaudhary’s West Wing Week. He is like Leni Riefenstahl, but a dude and One of the Good Guys! Also: unlikely to carve out a future as an octogenarian photographer of coral reef action. Anyway, on to the Barry!

On Monday, it was muthafuckin’ Easter Egg Roll time, bitches! This year, instead of forcing my boyfriend Brian Mosteller to wear the Donnie Darko ensemble, the President ordered a very lovely and undoubtedly quite smart young lady by the name of Alexandra Traber to enact his Watership Down fetish. Arun’s scintillating lower third (OF THE SCREEN, YOU GUYS, NOT ON HIS BODY JEEZ) indicates that she is “National Security Staff.” This footage confirms what we already knew: that our nation is now being defended by Furries. Also, did you know that Malia is turning 13 in July and is super-tall now and kind of beautifully awkward in her skin in the gorgeous and wonderful way that young ladies are when they don’t realize how pretty they are? Someone give this kid a copy of Reviving Ophelia, stat.

On Tuesday, Barry did lots of teevee interviews with reporters from teensy-weensy markets all over the country. Congratulations, Darla Ladytooth from KRAP-TV in Bodega Bay! You win the decade in your zipcode. Your future as the most successful elderly real-estate agent in your county is assured, and a seat on the town council is most definitely yours.

On Wednesday, OPRAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! Michelle’s legs, I can’t.

On Thursday, Barry defeated all tornadoes and then met with Latinos or some other sort of less-threatening-than-him brown people. Also, welcome to Secretary of Defense-hood, Leon Panetta! Enjoy the CIA, David Petraeus! Also, ay dios mio, another fucking Latino rolled up, but his last name is Martinelli (?!) and he is in charge of Panama, Central America’s wet taint.

Now it is Friday, and Barry will hopefully spray fire from his magic dick and cause the ’70s neon gingersnatch perched atop Donnie Trump’s swollen trustafarian melon to burst into an all-consuming conflagration.

What is your kolumnista doing this weekend, you ask? Oh, just Tweeting and also enduring a shitty head cold whilst flying to a ginormous faraway state with her primary sex partner for some sort of ritualistic patriotic ceremony to bid him a happy, all-expenses-paid, yearlong vacation in beautiful Afghanistan! Haha, this is what your authoress gets for giving special vagina time to a reservist who has only been deployed TWICE since 9/11. A third time obviously is necessary, to catch dead bin Laden and also to ensure your favorite Wonkette girl-slave’s sexual frustration for an entire fucking year. So a giant middle finger to any remaining right-wing trolltards sweeping the site. Your authoress is giving up some high-quality liberal Jew-cock (wrap your mind–but not your mouth!–around that) for your favorite unwinnable war, which makes her a bigger goddamned patriot than the lot of you Beck-fellating fucks. Kill yourselves (not a figure of speech) you brainless wastes of flesh. Confidential to the beloved “regular” (read: “woefully abnormal”) Wonkette readers: send me UNUSED sex toys c/o Kenneth Layne, Esq. Also: Jack Stuef for president, the end.