Why hello, liberal political fetus monsters! It’s time once again for the only weekly feature on the Internet, “Barry Can You Hear Me?” In case you are new to this game, this is the special place where we celebu-stalk Barack Obama via God’s own newsreel, West Wing Week. Let us see what this terrible (black) excuse for a carbon-based life form managed to totally ruin this week.
First, speed up to :04 to fulfill your recommended weekly fap-friendly allowance of Jaunty Obama Swagga. You can simultaneously have a few precious seconds of your essential Michelle Looks So Pwitty In Dat Dwess oohing and cooing, you fucking baby.
On Friday, Barry had some kind of massive conference phone call with thousands of underage students around the country. This was so he could weed out the weak from the strong and then make all of them blow him, in their elementary school resource rooms. Typical Democrat!
Then apparently nothing happened over the weekend, because West Wing Week does not cover it. Therefore, we can assume that Barry was murdering the children he had DSK’d on Friday. Haha, except it turned out that the kids were all maybe prostitutes, according to the rumor-paper known for its many lies! So everything was then fine automatically.
Anyway, Monday. Your tax dollars threw a birthday party for your Uncle Sam, who has continually molested you since you were born. Barry and Michelle welcomed over 1200 military families to a USO show on the South Lawn, where Bob Hope congratulated all the kiddies on their daddies being dead inside (sometimes literally!) Also, the games, facepaint, and fireworks look awesome and your reporter is upset that her invitation got lost in the mail. She will murder all the ponies in the Pony Express in order to avenge this slight.
On to Tuesday! Leon Panetta and Mike Mullen came over to shoot the shit, play some XBox, eat some of Michelle’s leftover organic, free-range, grass-finished, cage-free, Lorax-cum-glazed pasta. Probably David “D-Bonez” Petraeus showed up and lit a fart just like everyone knew he would, and Mullen laughed just cuz he’s a nice dude, but Panetta and Bamz rolled their eyes at each other like, “The fuck?”
On Wednesday, Obama Tweeted the fuck out of a big meeting when he should have been working. Twitter co-founder Jack Dorsey was there, and holy shit he is adorable in that big-eyed Irish Catholic choir boy way (very alluring to priests and lady-bloggers alike!) He looks like a sexxxay Precious Moments doll stuffed full of angel investors! Your authoress wants to wind up the thing in his back that plays “Our God Is An Awesome God” while making out with him in the naked way. (Please look at this 2008 photo and try not to die of joy.) Your kkkolumnista would also like to salute the frenzied geeks behind the Twitter/White House curtain, featured at 2:31. You know they were freaking the fuck out that an “OMFG FUCKING DYKE FACE KIKE BITCH SHIT!!!111!11” from @shitfucker201 would sneak its way onto the big ol’ press conference display screen.
On Thursday, there was some Bisexual Congressional Cock-ass in Barry’s house or something, and then he gave credentials to a bunch of filthy fucking foreigners (diplomats.) Whatever, do you care? No. And that’s perfectly fine. We’re all engaged in a long, ceaseless slog toward certain death, and it’s really better to devote time to fapping over Jack “Twitterpants” Dorsey than to knowing what the hell happened at Barry’s Thursday meetings.
In case you were interested in why your faithless lady-columnist has been away for a time, she was writing a goddamned book that you can pre-order right now in various places, not unlike the esteemed Papa Author Ken Layne! But now she is back and probably coming to your town, to shit on your bed and blame it on your dead dog. Enjoy your weekend, whoremonkeys. It’s actually slightly nice to be back.