This past Friday Obama told the planet that he’s about to go medieval on al-Qaeda and the Taliban in a Full Monty AfPaki Attack. God, I hope so, both for our national security and for the sane Muslims who are sick of existing in squalor, blowing themselves up for a living, listening to clerics who are nuttier than squirrel turds, missing out on BLTs, and having their clitorises circumcised for “Allah.” If I were a Muslim chick and heard that a knife was destined to be on my naughty bits when I hit puberty, I’d start planning a Shawshank escape. Hey, teacher, leave that clitoris alone! I have two words for that smack: in sane.
Yep, for the globe’s pursuit of life, liberty and happiness, I hope that under Obama’s command our boys rain hellfire and damnation—crusade style—down upon these un-evolved al-Qaeda and Taliban oxygen-stealing toads.
Having said that, I’m having a tough time buying our Teleprompter-in-Chief’s new rowdy persona. I pretty much think that all politicians currently sucking air from Barack to Blagojevich (and every scary clown in between) are full of more crap than a colicky kid’s Huggies. I have officially become what Steven Tyler would call, j-j-jaded (and they’re the ones who’ve jaded me).
As I was watching Obama outline how he plans on throttling Osama and the boys, I kept flashing back to Michael Jackson’s 1987 Bad video. Y’know, the one in which there was a great disparity between the lyrics and what they purported and the dude who was singing the song. Michael said he was bad, but it didn’t register with us rednecks. It just left us snickering.
Obama is saying he’s going to go Mach2, and as stated I hope he carries out what he lined out on Friday to the fullest extent. Heck, I’ll cheer him on if he’ll do half of what he said he’s going to do in this Global War on Terror. Wait, what’s that? We can’t call the war a War any longer or the terrorists . . . terrorists? Why not? It’s motivating for soldiers. It might not be for Pelosi’s babies, but the words “war” and “terror” are meat to the military.
Oh, so now it is an Overseas Contingency Operation? Well superkalafragilisticexpialadocious! (I don’t even know what that means, and I have dictionary.com’d it twice.) Let’s see: We’re overseas, doing an operation with contingencies. Scary, eh? Well, isn’t that special? Why stop there, PC police? Why not call it The Hello Kitty Campaign?
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