Archive of posts filed under the In My World category.

IMAO Time Machine: In My World: Wussy, Whiny Liberal Powell Asks for Mercy for America’s Enemies

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Frank J. posted this in 2003. — The Editors

Secretary of State Colin Powell has declared a few days ago that Iraq was in a “Material Breach,” seemingly indicating America’s willingness to go to war. When asked further about the issue, he said, “Obviously, there is a practical limit to just how long you can go down the road of non-cooperation,” and then added, “Though I don’t match the bellicose nature of some of my colleagues,” probably referring to Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. “The suggestion that we capture our Iraqi enemies and then force them to watch their wives and children be burned alive in their own homes before we then torture the Iraqis to death is just too extreme. I don’t see any reason why the wives and children of our enemies can’t just be smothered to death and then a video tape then shown to the Iraqi before torturing commences.”

Rumsfeld was outraged by the suggestion. He first paused to vomit in disgust at the mention of Colin Powell’s name and then shouted at the reporters, “That weak-kneed, whiny liberal! Why don’t we just take America’s enemies and buy them a room at the Hilton? He should be branded a traitor for suggesting such mercy. I don’t know why Bush hired that pinko. I swear I’ll kick Bush’s ass next time I see him, and don’t think his Secret Service will stop me. They do rigorous psychological tests before hiring those people, so you can be sure that they’re all sane and thus scared of me.”

A reporter then asked Rumsfeld’s opinion on Trent Lott’s statements and the change in Republican leadership. Rumsfeld produced a Luger from under his coat and shot the reporter. He then also shot the reporter behind him.

“Let this be a lesson to you!” Rumsfeld announced, “If you ask me a question that doesn’t involve war with Iraq, I will kill you and the reporter next to you.”

President Bush seemed unconcerned with the feud between his two cabinet members. “The reason I hired them was for a diversity of opinions. On one hand, I have the laughable opinion of an annoying, useless liberal, and, on the other hand, I have that balanced by the opinion of a psychotic war monger who wants nothing more than to hurt me.”

In response to Rumsfeld’s threats, Bush said, “I’m not too worried, though, personally, I would feel better if Cheney weren’t hogging the undisclosed location all the time.”

IMAO Time Machine: In My World: Nuclear Dong

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This one by Frank J. is from this week in 2006. — The Editors

Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice ran into the Oval Office. “North Korea has gone nuclear!”

President Bush shrugged his shoulders. “So?”

Condi walked over to a map of the world on the wall. She pointed to one spot. “Here’s North Korea.” She then pointed to America. “Here’s us.”

Bush leaped out of his chair. “We’re on the same map! We have to do something!”

Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld barged into the office. “I hear North Korea did a nuclear test! We must immediately attack Iran!”

“Aww! Not another Middle Eastern war!” Bush said. “We have enough of those.”

“It would ensure your place in the history books as the President with the most wars ever,” Condi said.

Bush sat back down. “I don’t want to be in the history books. I just took this job so my father wouldn’t think I’m a loser.”

The phone rang. Bush answered, and, on the other end, George H. W. Bush shouted, “You’re a loser!” and hung up.

Bush set the phone down. “Aww… it didn’t work.” He looked to Condi. “So, what are the North Koreans going to do with their nukes?”

“Well, they released this statement.” Condi held up a piece of paper and read:

“Test of nuclear explosive super lucky good. North Korea now great super power number one because of fabulous Kim Jong Il. He got eleven holes in one first time he played golf. He super great and not goofy looking at all. Kim Jong Il very sexy and make all women horny. North Korea nuclear power with Kim Jong Il very fearsome and more powerful than fourteen dragons.”

Bush thought about that. “Well, that could mean anything!”

Rumsfeld pounded Bush’s desk. “We need to kill that poofy-haired freak!”

“That’s your solution to everything. Last night when we were playing Scrabble and couldn’t find the die, you said we should murder Kim Jong Il.”

“There’s no die in Scrabble,” Condi said.

“Let’s not have this argument again!” Bush yelled, pointing at her ferociously.

Condi rolled her eyes. “Anyway, from the size of the blast, we’re not even sure North Korea was successful in setting off a nuclear explosive.”

“Well, what does intelligence think?” Bush looked to a man wearing a black suit and sunglasses who was standing in the background. “Clancy, you’re my intelligence guy. Did North Korea make a real nuclear blast?”

“That’s classified.”

“Classified classified… or it will be in tomorrow’s New York Times classified?”

Clancy adjusted his black tie. “I can’t answer that.”

“What if I ask nicely?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny whether that technique will cause me to give you the information.”

Bush rubbed his chin. “By asking nicely, I could get the information,” he thought out loud, “or I could just be wasting my time. Well, I can’t take that risk.” He looked to Condi. “I’m off to the U.N. to see if we can do sanctions against North Korea to teach them they are a bad bad country.”

“The U.N.?!” Condi exclaimed. “They suck!”

“Rarr! I want to bomb the U.N.!” Rumsfeld yelled. “I want to kill them and all of their sympathizers!”

Bush stood up. “No! We go to the U.N., wait for them to completely bungle this, and then we start bombing. That’s how civilized people do things!” He then threw his stapler through the window to signal the conversation was over.

“Where big nukey boom boom?” Kim Jong Il demanded. “There was supposed to be big nukey boom boom!”

“I’m afraid the test was a failure,” Jong’s aide said.

“What! But I need big nukey boom boom for new Taepo Dong missile! I need it for big powerful dong! Dong! Dong! Dong!”

“Please stop saying ‘dong’. We’ll get working on a new test.”

“Make big nukey boom boom! Big nukey boom boom for my dong! They shall know I am powerful!” Jong looked around and shouted, “Where’s my hairdresser? I need my hair bigger and poofier! Need hair so big that I tower over all others! They shall all fear Kim Jong Il! They shall shake in fear before my giant poofy hair! Then I’ll show them my dong, and they will flee in terror! Hee hee hee!”

“It’s the ‘stache!” Bush said as he entered into the U.N. chamber and sat next to Ambassador John Bolton. “I’ve heard a lot of U.N. members complain you’re not respecting this place.”

His powerful mustache bristled. “It deserves no respect.”

“Okay, but can you at least refrain from urinating in the auditorium… especially on other U.N. members?”

“No.”

Bush shrugged. “Well, I tried.”

Bolton looked around. “Where’s my pen?”

At the podium, President Vincente Fox began speaking. “The U.S. plans to make a fence along our border, and we think this is very bad. First of all, they have no right. Second of all, if the fence keeps out my citizens, who will pick their beans? Thirdly…”

Bolton glared at Fox and noticed a blue pen in his pocket. Bolton stood up and pointed at Fox. “That thieving Mexican stole my pen!” Bolton then charged the podium, knocking over tables and chairs and world leaders in the process. He then leaped at Fox.

“Aye carumba!”

As Bolton pinned Fox to the ground and proceeded to pummel him, Bush took the podium. “Since the floor is open, I just thought I’d say that North Korea having nuclear weapons is very bad. Kim Jong Il is a short little pot-bellied, poofy-haired dingus, and that’s exactly the sort of person who shouldn’t have the ability to blow lots of stuff up. I hope you’ll all help me in enacting sanctions against them. If you do, I’ll order pizza for everybody… maybe even breadstick too. We got a deal?”

“No!” shouted the Chinese ambassador.

“Why?”

“Because, we’re… well… Communists and evil.”

“Oh, okay.” Bush said. “But everyone else is for it, right? And when I mean everyone, I mean the countries that aren’t small and dinky and stupid.”

“We’re against sanctions too,” the Russian ambassador said.

“What? I thought you guys weren’t evil anymore.”

“No. We tried not being evil, but it didn’t work out for us. So we’re evil still, and we’re against sanctions.”

“This is useless,” Bush said. “We need to–”

“You’ve spoken long enough,” Kofi Annan said. “Many other people here would like the floor to express their hatred of Jews, so why don’t–”

Bolton smashed a chair into the back of Kofi’s head. He then unzipped his fly. “I need to pee.”

Bush fled for the exit. “I’m outta here.”

Kim Jong Il walked into the nuclear test room with his extra poofy hair adding nearly two feet to his height. “Now I tall! Everyone fear me! With big nukey boom boom, everyone will fear my dong as well! Dong! Dong! Dong!”

“Stop saying ‘dong’, and we’ll start the new test,” the aide said.

Jong rubbed his grubby little hands together. “Yes! Now we will have big nukey boom boom!”

Suddenly, there was lots of clawing and screeching all around them.

“What is that?” Jong demanded. Then his face went white with terror. “Someone protect my dong!”

“We need a plan of action!” Bush exclaimed.

“We’re going to send in all our available Marines and take out that freak Kim Jong Il,” Rumsfeld said. “Buck the Marine, you ready?”

Buck looked around. “Uh… where are the other Marines?”

“You’re the only one available.” Rumsfeld said. “So get ready to go into North Korea, kill Kim Jong Il, and set off all the nuclear bombs.”

“You might want to run away before they go off,” Bush suggested. “Oh, and one more thing, on your way out, head through South Korea and then get some surveillance of their animators. I want to get a special preview of the upcoming Simpsons movie!”

“Uh… while I appreciate that you have such confidence in me to keep sending me on these solo missions,” Buck said, “my training really is more squad based… you know, where there a group of us looking out for each other’s back.”

“That sounds like whining!” Bush yelled. “And how many wars did whining ever win?”

“There was this French one–”

“No wars! I was in the Vietnam War, and, because of all the whining, we lost that one!”

“I thought you were in the States for that?”

Bush pounded his desk. “And no part of the U.S. fell to the Vietnamese! Now, you go invade North Korea and don’t whine about it!”

Condi ran into the room. “Something weird has happened! The North Koreans were going to do another test, but something stopped them. And then we got this tape!”

“You can’t fool me!” Bush said, pointing at what was in Condi’s hand. “That’s a DVD!”

“Whatever.” Condi put in the DVD player.

“Will it have 5.1 surround sound?” Bush asked.

“I don’t know!” Condi hit play.

On screen was a monkey jumping around and screeching. “Yay! This movie has a monkey!” Bush laughed and clapped his hands. “Movie funny!” He then noticed something. “What’s that behind the monkey?”

“It’s a North Korean nuclear weapon!” Condi exclaimed.

“Oh no!” Bush yelled as he stared at the now very threatening monkey who was screeching and pointing at the screen. “The monkeys have the bomb!” He put his head in his hands. “I’m the worst President ever.”

Condi patted him on the back. “Pretty much.”
Continue reading ‘IMAO Time Machine: In My World: Nuclear Dong’ »

In My World: Transition

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“And this is the Oval Office,” President Obama said as he and Donald Trump entered together. “Soon it’s going to be yours.”

Trump took a moment to look around and absorb it all in. “Nice. I like this place. Real rustic charm. How much is it?”

“Huh?”

“For this house. I don’t like the color. I’ll have to factor in repainting it on price.”

Obama took a deep breath. “What do you think this is?”

“You’re a realtor, right?” Trump shrugged. “Sorry, I have a lot on my schedule. You’ll have to remind me who you are and what this is about.”

“I’m President Barack Obama. I’m helping in the transition of power since you’re going to be the next president.”

“Oh yeah. I thought I remembered you. You’re that Kenyan guy.”

“I’m not Kenyan! I’m American!”

“Then why do you have that funny accent.”

“It’s supposed to be an elitist accent, not a foreign one.”

Trump started looking over the desk. “If you’re so sensitive about this, you should probably release your birth certificate.”

“I have! Multiple times! Here I keep it on me since I keep getting asked about it.” Obama pulled a piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Trump.

Trump looked if over carefully. He then tossed it away. “I don’t know what a real birth certificate looks like, so that didn’t prove anything. Now let’s get to business: Where’s the button?”

“The what?”

“You know. The world ending button.”

Obama sighed. “It’s here.” He slid open a panel on the desk showing a big red button. “The important thing to remember is—”

Trump slammed the button with the palm of his hands.

“What are you doing?” Obama yelled. “It doesn’t even work until you enter the launch codes.”

“What are those?”

“Well, they’re two twelve digit sequences you’ll need to memorize. The first is—”

“This is getting too complicated. I think I’ll just call in a bombing strike if that’s easier. Do I do that with this?” He picked up a red phone on the desk and spoke into it. “Bomb someone. One of the ‘stans or something. Let them know America is great again… I know I’m not president yet. Fine. Do it when I am president. And put ‘America is great again!’ on the missiles. Also, make sure they mention the president is now Trump and not Borax Alabama or whatever his name was.”

Obama pulled away the phone. “We need to talk about policy. You’re inheriting a very divided nation. I tried to unite them, but they were all too stupid to follow my leadership or something. Frankly, I don’t care for most of them. But maybe they’ll respond more to you since you talk more their level. You know: idiot.”

Trump walked to the window. “Yeah, everybody loves me. I’m pretty awesome. The best.” He looked out for a few moments. “I don’t care for the view. I may have to move this place.”

“And I need to start thinking what I’m going to do after being president. I need to build on my legacy.”

Trump put his hand on Obama shoulder. “I hate to break it to you, but you don’t have a legacy. You weren’t a good president. I don’t remember exactly what you did, but I remember not liking it. Bad. So forget all this. Do something fun. A great thing to do is open a foundation in your name. You can funnel all sorts of money through that. I learned that from Hillary Clinton. Great chick. Hey, whatever happened to her?”

Obama stared quietly at Trump for a second. “You beat her in the election for president.”

“Oh yeah, I did.” Trump laughed for a moment, but then frowned. “She’s not going to like that. You think she might kill me?”

“I had the same concern after the 2008 primary,” Obama said. “The Secret Service has learned to keep pretty good tabs on her. Anyway, I want to talk to you about the Affordable Care Act.”

“The what?”

“The ACA.”

Trump furrowed his brow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Obama sighed. “Obamacare.”

Trump laughed. “Oh yeah, you really took a dump on everyone’s health insurance didn’t you?”

“It was — it is — a very good bill. I’m very smart — ask anyone — and the policy was really smart too. It was just… the people buying insurance were dumb. They did it wrong.”

“Yeah, people will fail you. I never cared for people. Or a lot of animals. Did I tell you that time a chicken attacked me?”

“What chicken attacked you?”

“I have no idea. It was wearing a mask. Anyway, I was just minding my own business — slapping and yelling at a chicken — and suddenly it attacks me. I barely got out of there alive. And since I couldn’t be sure what chicken — because of the mask — I came back with my people and we killed all the chickens in the county. Slaughtered ’em all. And it was a farm county; lotta chickens. Lotta angry farmers.”

Obama raised an eyebrow. “What did you do with all that chicken meat?”

“Huh?”

“You killed the a lot of chickens. That meant a lot of spare meat.”

Trump furrowed his brow again. “You can eat chickens?” Trump shook his head. “Anyway, you’re missing the point. The point is: I will protect this nation.”

“And your evidence for that is you once vengefully killed a lot of chickens?”

Trump nodded. “Exactly. You get me. I like you. But it’s time for you to go. People want the Democrats to take over now.”

“You’re a Republican.”

“Yeah, whatever party I am. That’s the one taking over now. The red one. So I’m going to get to work. And by the time you get back from your vacation, America will be great again.”

“What? I’m not going on vacation,” Obama said. “You are president for the next four years.”

Trump scoffed. “Four years? I’m making America great again. That will take three months tops and then you can have the office back. After that I have a great idea for a water park for dogs. Going to work on that.” Trump looked around. “So do I just leave all your stuff out on the curb or what?”

“You’re not president until January.”

“Oh? Then what am I doing here now. I don’t even get the point of this.”

“Donald, you have to take this seriously,” Obama stated. “You are taking on a grave responsibility. America is a great country — one of my top twenty favorites — and you need to protect and lead it. You have to rise to this occasion and take this seriously.”

Trump nodded. “I want to assure you that — while I didn’t listen to anything you just said — I am going to be great at this. The best. And I will—” He suddenly caught a glimpse of the button again and slammed it with his palm.

“Still not doing anything,” Obama said.

Trump headed for the door. “Well, have that fixed by the time I get back.”

Obama slowly walked to his desk and sat down. “It’s going to be dark times of this nation, I just know it,” he said to himself. “Only one thing can cheer everyone up.” He started typing at a computer. “Another memoir!”

Transcript of White House Meeting on 9/11/2012

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Transcript from conversation in the Oval Office on September 11th, 2012:

AIDE: There has been an attack on a consulate in Benghazi.

OBAMA: Where’s that?

AIDE: In Libya.

OBAMA: Where’s that?

AIDE: The Middle East.

OBAMA: Where’s that?

AIDE: To the east… but the center of stuff to the east.

OBAMA: I understand. So what happened?

AIDE: Well four Americans were killed, including an Ambassador.

OBAMA: Eh. Doesn’t that happen all the time?

AIDE: Actually, no, sir, this is not a common occurrence. This is a very important and horrible incident.

OBAMA: It doesn’t seem important. I mean, I got fundraisers and stuff to prepare for. I don’t see why you’re bothering me with this. Hey, Biden, do you think this is important?

BIDEN: Me want cookie!

OBAMA: Biden doesn’t think it’s important. Probably just Muslims getting angry at some silly thing. They get angry at stuff all the time. Like cartoons, TV shows, and drone strikes. Silly Muslims.

AIDE: Actually, sir, we already have information telling us– Uh… why is Biden laughing.

OBAMA: He just does that. Ignore him.

AIDE: As I was saying, we have information that this was a planned terrorist attack by an al Qaeda-affiliated group.

OBAMA: Al Qaeda? That’s ridiculous. I killed bin Laden. You saw me kill him.

AIDE: Actually, it was a SEAL te–

OBAMA: I killed bin Laden. He dead. No more al Qaeda. Isn’t that right, Biden?

BIDEN: Where my shoe?

OBAMA: Biden agrees with me. There is no al Qaeda because I killed bin Laden and am a good and smart president. Obviously this attack was just Muslims getting angry at some YouTube video or something. We’ll announce that and vow to bring the maker of the YouTube video to justice. Don’t you agree, Biden?

BIDEN: Shoe on head!

OBAMA: Biden is a foreign policy expert and he agrees. This is smart. I am smart president. Tell me I’m smart!

AIDE: You’re very smart.

OBAMA: That’s right.

In My World: Spiking the Football

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“On this anniversary of Osama bin Laden’s death,” President Obama told the press, “it’s important to remember how awesome it was that it was my say so that made bin Laden dead. I still remember making that momentous decision.”

* * * *

“Okay, I need a yes or no on getting bin Laden,” the general told Obama.

“Could you explain the options again?” Obama asked.

The general sighed. “‘Yes’ means we will send SEALs in to get bin Laden. ‘No’ means we will not send SEALs in to get bin Laden.”

Obama nodded. “I’ve made a decision: I vote ‘Present’.”

“That wasn’t one of the options! Here, we’ll try something new.” The general held out a colorful ball in each hand. “If you pick the red ball, we get bin Laden. If you choose the blue ball, we don’t get bin Laden. So pick a ball.”

Obama studied the two balls carefully. “I want a purple one.”

* * * *

“And who can forget the heroism of the Navy SEALs?” Obama continued in his speech. “Well, I often do when telling the harrowing tale of how I made the decision to get bin Laden, but the SEALs deserve at least some credit. I still remember personally greeting them after they did their minor part in stopping bin Laden.”

* * * *

The president’s aide rushed into the Oval Office. “Mr. President, I have some… news to tell you.”

“What?”

“Osama bin Laden is… dead.”

Obama stood up from his chair. “But I just saw him on TV alive and well!” Tears welled in his eyes. “How did this happen?”

“The SEALs shot him in the head, sir.”

“What?! They were supposed to bring him back alive! And then we were going to come to a peace agreement together, live on television!” Tears started to stream down his face. “And then we were going to be best friends and I was going to show him my model train set and then we were going to upgrade it to high speed rail together!” Obama fell back in his chair and buried his head in his arms, weeping. Finally, he looked up. “At least tell me they gave him a proper Muslim burial.”

“They… chucked him in the sea.”

Obama let out a mournful cry and put his head on his desk while sobbing.

“Anyway,” the aide said, “the SEALs who did it are here to see you.”

SEAL Team Six entered the room. Obama then rushed them, pounding one on the chest with his tiny fists while screaming, “You monsters! All he wanted was to get Muslims more respect and you shot him! You monsters!” Obama then collapsed to the floor crying.

The SEAL looked to the aide. “Are we done here? We want to go get beers.”

“Sure.”

They left and Obama weakly looked up at his aide. “I’m going to need some comfort food.”

The aide nodded and then turned to the door and yelled, “WE’RE GOING TO NEED A NEW BO!”

* * * *

“But we can’t let all that silly SEAL team worship overshadow my heroism,” Obama told the press. “It’s like in Star Wars how everyone recognizes that the true hero of the movie is the guy who told that stupid farmboy Luke, ‘Hey, go blow up that Death Star.’ That’s me; it was all my idea to kill bin Laden, and it got done.

“Now, would Romney have made the same decision? Probably not. He’d be too busy counting his money to approve of killing bin Laden. That’s what happens when someone is an out-of-touch, really rich guy instead of an in-touch, somewhat rich guy like me.

“Anyway, of course I’m now writing a new memoir — my third. It will be entitled ‘I Killed bin Laden’. It will be only five pages, but unlike my other memoirs, it will have an actual accomplishment in it instead of just a bunch of padding written by Bill Ayers.”

* * * *

At a campaign event, Romney responded to the charges that he wouldn’t have ordered the raid on bin Laden’s compound. “That’s ridiculous,” he told the press. “If I got a report that a foreigner had been located, I would have asked, ‘Does he do lawn work?’ And when I was told that no he did not, I would say, ‘Then we should do something about him.’ Then I would have written out the order to handle that bin Laden chap and handed it to my butler to be delivered to the right people. And then I’d let other people take care of all the details because I’m a very rich, important person who can’t be bothered with such things. But it’s preposterous to say I would have shied away from ordering a kill on bin Laden; even that eunuch Jimmy Carter would have done that.”

“It’s true!” Jimmy Carter said, popping up behind Romney. “If you drew a line representing my level of competency, knowing to order a raid on bin Laden would be one of the few things that fell under it.” He patted Romney on the back. “Thanks for recognizing that.”

“Eww.” Romney dusted of his suit jacket. “You’re getting peanut shell dust and failure on me.”

In My World: The Weirder Candidate

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“We need to portray Romney as a weirdo they can’t trust,” President Obama said in his strategy meeting. “That way, everyone will want to keep the country in my steady hands; they can see how well I putt.”

“We have a problem, though,” David Axelrod said. “Some weird stuff has come up about your past.”

Obama rolled his eyes. “This isn’t about that time I shot and ate a Chinaman, is it? They can’t dredge that up since I was only twenty-four at the time. And it’s not like something I’d normally do because I was high on coke. And nowadays, I lock myself in a room before doing blow.”

“No, it’s not that,” Axelrod said.

“Is this about Jeremiah Wright, then? My association with him shows I’m religious just like all those invisible sky fairy worshipers in the fly over states. I even participated in church activities like when I drove around with Wright and beat up white kids. I didn’t quite get the point of it, but I don’t really understand religion. What do we have against Satan again?”

“No, it’s not about that,” Axelrod said.

Obama sighed. “They’re not bringing up William Ayers again, are they? I barely knew the guy and hardly any of the bombs I made for him successfully went off.”

“No, that’s not it either.”

“Did they find my second wife? Romney can’t make an issue of that because his great-grandfather was a polygamist. And so what if she’s in al Qaeda; they’re hardly a threat anymore.”

“No not that. Here, I’ll show you.”

Axelrod turned on the TV. On screen was Mitt Romney talking to the press. “It’s come to my attention that Barack Obama has eaten dogs. While I’ve never personally met someone in the middle class, I’ve been credibly informed they don’t like it when people eat dogs. If I owned a dog as a child, I’d never have eaten him. Of course, as a rich person, my pet was instead a pygmy albino gorilla named Reginald. He did eat a dog, and I was very cross at him for it and locked him in his gorilla pen all night and didn’t give him the vintage Merlot he signed for.”

“What?” Obama exclaimed. “They’re bringing that up?! But I was only six… when I started. And we’re really careful to make sure each replacement Bo looks just like the last.”

“Still,” Axelrod said, “it makes you seem a little weird.”

“Romney can’t portray me as weird! He’s the weird one! He’s a Mormon, which means he wears magic underwear… which is way different than the cursed underwear I wear and am unable to take off.”

“Have you tried taking them off?”

“I TOLD YOU THEY’RE CURSED!” Obama screamed. “Anyway, the public will like me again when I finally get them the unicorns I promised them in my 2008 campaign. When do we show the public the breeding pair we found?”

“Um… don’t you remember? You killed and ate them.”

Obama thought for a moment. “No, I don’t remember. We really need better locks on my recreation room.”

“Anyway, the dog-eating isn’t all bad.” Axelrod handed Obama a memo. “When we polled who people like more, a dog-eater or the person responsible for the current state of the economy, the dog-eater polled much better. It might be better to keep people focused on that than on other things.”

Obama nodded. “Then I will do nothing but publicly eat dogs until the election.”

“And maybe start eating live kittens at some point if people begin to lose interest.”

“Consider it done!” Obama stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to wind down. Get the locks ready.”
_______________

[Click for more “Obama Ate a Dog” humor]

UPDATE: linked by Darth Chipmunk

In My World: Legal Counsel

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March 2011

President Obama sat in quiet contemplation in the Oval Office. “Hey, Biden, do you think what we’re doing in Libya counts as ‘hostilities’?”

“My shoes are too big!” Biden shouted angrily. “I think someone switched my shoes out with bigger shoes.”

“I just don’t want to get Congressional approval for this,” Obama continued, “because then it’s like a war and a big deal or something, and I don’t want to make a big deal about this. Plus, Congress is like all the way across town.”

“They’re trying to make a fool of me!” Biden yelled. “I’ll show them.” He kicked off his shoes. “Now I’m not wearing shoes! Now who’s the fool?!”

Obama stared at him a moment. “I guess I’ll talk to the Justice Department’s Office of Legal Counsel.”

“I’m going to find my real shoes!” Biden then ran out of the office.

Soon, a lawyer from the Justice Department’s Office of Legal Counsel arrived. “What’s your question?”

“I was wondering if what we’re doing in Libya counts as hostilities.”

“Of course it does,” the lawyer. “So, you’re going to have to scale things back by May 20th.”

Obama nodded thoughtfully. “You’re fired.” He pushed a button on the intercom. “I need a new lawyer.”

The first lawyer left and a new lawyer entered the office. “What’s the question?”

“So, I was thinking that what we’re doing in Libya is not really ‘hostilities’. Don’t you agree?”

“No, it obviously is hostilities,” the lawyer said. “It’s not a big deal, though, since you just need Congressional approval and Congress loves approving wars.”

“Yeah… but I don’t want to do that.”

“But it’s your only option.”

Obama shook his head. “I know another option… You’re fired!” Obama pushed the button on his intercom. “New lawyer!”

* * * *

Obama banged his head against the desk. “Why are all lawyers so stupid! Can’t any of them understand my smart opinion!” He pushed the button on the intercom. “Are there any more lawyers left?”

“We were able to scrounge up one more, but…”

“Just send him in!”

In entered a man in an ill fitting suit with a wrinkled tie. “Name is Chad Goldstein, Attorney at Law. What are we dealing with here? DUI?”

“No, not that.”

“They probably just arrested you because you’re black. You are black, right? I keep assuming people are black and they aren’t.”

“This isn’t about that,” Obama said. “I need a legal opinion on whether what we’re doing in Libya counts as ‘hostilities’ when I’m like really sure it doesn’t.”

“Hostilities? That’s crazy!” Goldstein shouted. “What are you doing there? Flying drones around and shooting stuff — just like in a video game. And kids play video games. Would something kids do count as ‘hostilities’? Of course not. That’s crazy talk. Completely insane. WHAT IS THAT RINGING?!”

“Uh… I don’t hear anything ringing.”

Goldstein calmly took a seat. “And neither do I.”

“So you said your name is Goldstein?”

“Yes, changed it to that because it sounds Jewish; gives me credibility. Not a Jew though; they kicked me out of the synagogue I tried to go to. Do you know they have something against eating bacon? I love bacon. I think I’ll have some now.” He pulled a baggie out of his pocket. “You want some?”

“No; it’s uncooked.”

“What are you? Secretly a Muslim? Don’t worry; you can tell me. We have attorney-client privilege, which means I can’t write a tell-all about you for at least five years.”

“Forget about that,” Obama said. “I just need you to write a document saying how legally what we’re doing in Libya doesn’t count as hostilities and thus doesn’t fall under the War Powers Resolution.”

“Sure, I can do that for you. I’ll make it look real nice with lots of official sounding legal terms in it like ‘judge’ and ‘laws’. How many pages does it have to be? Can I use double space?”

“Um… I don’t know on length. So uh… where exactly did you get your law degree?”

“Hey, what’s with all the third-degree? What’s next? Are you going to ask for my birth certificate? You’re a lunatic if that’s what you’re going to do! Insane! Crazy!” He jumped to his feet. “WHAT IS THAT RINGING NOISE?!!”

“I… don’t hear any ringing.”

Goldstein adjusted his tie. “I never said you did.”

“Well, I guess we’re done here. You just get me that document that backs my view.”

“Will do. And do you validate parking?”

“Um… we don’t charge for parking at the White House.”

“I didn’t say the parking was for here.”

“No… I don’t know how to do that.”

“Can’t you just issue me a parking pardon? I don’t want to pay for parking!”

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Fine! But you just lost a vote!” Goldstein stormed out of the office.

Obama smiled to himself. “That’s why I’m such a smart president: I find the right experts to listen to.” His phone started ringing. “Hello?”

“It’s Biden. I have good news and bad news. Good news: I found my shoes. Bad news: I’m going to need you bail me out of prison.”

Obama put his head in his hands. “Not again!”

In My World: Andrew Breitbart – Rat with a Slingshot

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“Where’s Weiner?” the reporters asked. “He’s supposed to come out and explain how it was all a hack and Republicans are mean.”

“Hey, here comes someone!”

A man walked up the podium. “Wait! That’s Andrew Breitbart!” one of the reporters shouted. “We hate him!” The room erupted in boos.

“I will destroy you all!” Breitbart shouted at them.

“He’s right wing and really mean about it!” yelled a reporter. “He’s just like Hitler!”

“He’s worse than Hitler,” said another reporter. “Hitler never criticized the job we did!”

“You are useless and do nothing but get in the way of truth! I have to fight you to get the stories out there, and that is why I will destroy you all!”

“We don’t have to listen to you!” a reporter said. “You’re a liar!”

“What did I lie about?!” Breitbart screamed. “You tell me what I’ve ever lied about!”

“Stuff.”

“What stuff? You back your claims up with facts!”

“I’m part of the established media!” the reporter shouted back. “You are just supposed to believe what I say and assume I have the facts to back it up even if I don’t feel like showing them to you!”

“Your time is past!” Breitbart told them. “You are outdated!”

“We are not!” one answered. “Our newsroom just got one of those newfangled fax machines!”

“And we have our news available on one of those high tech triple-w pages!” said another.

“You are dinosaurs!” Breitbart yelled. “And I am one of those little rat-like things — the first mammals. And you’re all laughing at me, but I will destroy you and rule this planet!”

“That’s crazy! A little rat can’t beat a dinosaur!” a reporter answered. “Rats are tiny, and dinosaurs are giant! That’s why dinosaurs will be around forever!”

“No! I will use my mammal brain to like build a… slingshot… or something, and I will kill you with it! You dinosaurs will laugh at the little rat with the slingshot, but he will kill you! You will all be dead, and kids will stare at your bones in museums!”

Anthony Weiner walked into the room and saw Breitbart at the podium. “Oh, if you’re all busy…”

“You get up here now, and you apologize to me!” Breitbart commanded.

Sheepishly, Weiner headed to the podium. “I just want to tell you all that, yes, I lied about being hacked and did send that picture. I want to apologize to the American people, my constituents, and my wife.”

“AND?” Breitbart yelled.

“…And I most especially want to apologize to Andrew Breitbart.”

“Apologize to me directly!” Breitbart told Weiner.

Weiner looked at Breitbart. “I am sorry, Andrew Breitbart.”

“LOUDER!”

“I am sorry, Andrew Breitbart, sir!”

“And who is the man?”

“Well… I am a man…”

Breitbart smacked Weiner. “You are not a man! Who is the man?”

“You are the man!”

“Tell them!” Breitbart pointed to the press.

“Andrew Breitbart is the man!”

“You heard him!” Breitbart shouted at the reporters. “I am the man! Yet you aided in him slandering me while he was lying! You covered up the truth! That’s why I will use my slingshot and mammal brain to destroy you!” He looked to Weiner. “You can speak now.”

Weiner straightened himself up and smiled for the cameras. “As long as you’re all here, I think we should talk about a few important issues–”

Breitbart slapped him. “Shut up! You’re done talking!” He turned to the press. “Next time I see you, I will be laughing over your smoldering corpses!” He then knocked over the podium and walked off.

A reporter in the back giggled. “That one guy’s name was Weiner.”

In My World: The New Guy at Al Qaeda

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Transcript from the announcement to the press of new al Qaeda interim leader Saif al-Adel:

SAIF AL-ADEL: “Thank you for coming here today. I’m happy to announce that I, Saif al-Adel, am the new leader of Al Qaeda. I’m really excited at this opportunity, and have lots of plans to really advance our cause in the area of killing infidels.”

REPORTER: “Are you upset about what happened to the previous leader?”

SAIF: “I was, but then I heard about how they gave Osama a respectful Islamic burial at sea — which was really nice of them. I mean they didn’t have to do that, but they did. Still, we are going to destroy America because it’s the Great Satan and that’s in our mission statement.”

REPORTER: “So are there more plans to commit terrorist acts on the U.S. mainland?”

SAIF: “First off, we don’t call them ‘terrorist acts’, we call them ‘rapid reorgs’ — because it’s all about change really. Change and martyrism. But we’ve had some problems getting dedicated people in the U.S., since the go to the country and have a Big Mac — which are really tasty — and they decide they just kind of like living there and don’t want to blow themselves up. I think that’s short-sighted, though, but we’ll try to work around it.”

REPORTER: “What is in the Big Mac’s secret sauce?”

SAIF: “I don’t really know. I’m guessing it has mayo in it. We tried sending some people to find that out, but we never heard back from them again.”

REPORTER: “How do you plan to participate in the so-called ‘Arab Spring’?”

SAIF: “I’m glad you asked. We’re very excited about this. Many in the region are wanting to overthrow the current regimes and have a change in their country. Some want that change to be freedom and democracy. We, though, offer the more traditional, time-proven change of murder, mayhem, and killing the Jews. I think in the end, people will come to our side as we’re not some fad like liberty. We’re violent jihad, which has served the people of this region for hundreds of years.”

REPORTER: “We’re you disturbed by the reports that porn was found in Osama’s compound?”

SAIF: “Well, let’s not be too judgmental here. Yes, it is my position that all Muslim women should be covered… but maybe a woman isn’t a Muslim. And maybe she doesn’t like being covered. Maybe she doesn’t like any of herself to be covered. And maybe she likes to have sex while being uncovered. And maybe someone is filming it as it happens. And maybe that film is playing on the TV in front of me. Is it then a sin for me to look? I think it’s a gray area.”

REPORTER: “Are you concerned at all at about SEAL Team Six?”

SAIF: “Interesting story: Right after it was known I’d be taking over, I got a nice note from them that read, ‘We want to congratulate you on your new position as head of al Qaeda. Best of luck, and we’ll soon be seeing you and shooting you in the head.’ Incidentally, I didn’t hear a single thing from SEAL Teams One through Five. So, while SEAL Team Six definitely is a competitor, I’d call it a respectful rivalry. But yes, I am worried about them shooting me in head which is why I should probably end this now and get back into hiding. So, death to America, the Great Satan. Death to Israel, the Little Satan. Death to Canada, the Semi-Satan. And death to Britain… we don’t really have a Satan name for them. Maybe ‘the Crumpet-Eating Satan’.”

In My World: President Awesome

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“So there I was, and the advisor said to me, ‘You have two choices…'”

“Who was the advisor?” a reporter asked President Obama at the press conference.

“I don’t know; some guy. Anyway, he said, ‘You have two choices, you can take out bin Laden, or you can not take out bin Laden.’ So, I thought about it a moment and said, ‘I would like the first option: The one where we take out bin Laden. The second option of not taking out bin Laden is not the option I want.’ And then the advisor said, ‘We’ll be doing this without getting Pakistan’s permission.’ So I said, ‘Then I said I have to think about it a little longer.’ And then I thought about it. And then I said, ‘I think I would still like to take out bin Laden.’ And that is the story of how I personally killed bin Laden.” Obama paused a moment to bask in his own awesomeness.

“Did you congratulate the SEAL team on the mission?” a reporter asked.

Obama rolled his eyes. “We didn’t use trained animals to kill bin Laden. It was done by military people with guns. You reporters are so stupid on these matters. You’re certainly not a badass commander in chief like me who gets down in the midst of things and makes sure our enemies pay.”

“So what branch of the military did carry out the operation?”

Obama thought about that for a moment. “I think it was the legislative. Anyway, we’re getting off topic of how I killed bin Laden.”

“Why are you shirtless and wearing a bandoleer?” another reporter asked.

“Because I am like Rambo. I kill the enemies of America.”

“Follow up question: Could you please put on a shirt?”

“No, because I am a warrior. And I think the American people recognize that now. In fact, they’ve started calling me, ‘President Awesome.'”

“Who calls you that?”

“Malia did… after I asked her to. But it’s catching on. Everyone loves me now. Why a prominent conservative website said that how I took down bin Laden was — and I quote — ‘Akin to what a U.S. president would do.'”

“So do you think this victory will overshadow the economic problems our country has been having?” a reporter asked.

“Well, I don’t think the American people ever expected me to do anything about domestic problems because I campaigned as — and always was — a wartime president. If you think back to my campaign, all I ever said was I was going to hunt down and kill the enemies of America, and that’s exactly what I did. Maybe that was done to the detriment of some domestic issues, but this was important. Like, a lot of people thought the health care bill was awful. Well, that’s because I didn’t really pay attention to it because I was too busy hunting Osama bin Laden. And the reason I haven’t worked on getting the economy going and creating jobs was because I was too busy hunting Osama bin Laden. And the reason I’ve been so many strokes over par in my golf games lately is because my mind has been so focused on capturing Osama bin Laden. So, yes this hunt for bin Laden was to the detriment of some other things, but I think we all can agree it was worth it.”

“So now you’ll focus on the economy?” a reporter asked.

“Well… I’m kinda pooped out after all the bin Laden hunting, so no promises.”

“Now is it true that the intel that led to bin Laden was gained from Gitmo?”

Obama nodded. “Yes, the same Gitmo I took the initiative to not close. Not closing it was my idea, so in a way, I personally got that intel.”

“But didn’t you campaign to close it?”

Obama shrugged. “I can’t remember. I guess my mind has been so focused on bin Laden, that it’s even messed up my memory of anything unrelated to capturing bin Laden. Because that’s what I am, the president who took down bin Laden, America’s greatest enemy. What people will remember me by is this…” He then held up a newspaper which had the headline “OSAMA KILLS OBAMA”.

“Um…”

“Yeah, I know — bit of a typo there, but they told me they already corrected it in the online version. No one buys a physical paper anymore.”

In My World: Let Them Eat Hybrids

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White House transcript of President Obama’s answer in a town hall when asked by a concerned citizen about rising gas prices:

I know some of these big guys, they’re all still driving their big SUVs. You know, they got their big monster trucks and everything, driving around with these blank dumb looks on their faces. (Laughter) You’re one of them? Well, I guess I did see you furrowing your brow like you weren’t quite understanding me. Am I right? (Laughter).

Well, now, here’s my point. If you’re complaining about the price of gas and you’re only getting eight miles a gallon in your moron redneck car–(Laughter)–you may have a big family, but it’s probably not that big. How many you have? Ten kids, you say? Ten kids? Wow. You really are some freak. (Laughter.) Well, you definitely need a hybrid van then. (Laughter) We should all be trading in our cars for hybrids… I mean I won’t, because of my special presidential limo. But everyone else should–even the rednecks with their idiotic monster trucks and freakishly large families like you. (Laughter).

So, like I said, if you’re getting eight miles a gallon you may want to think about a trade-in. You can get a great deal. I promise you, GM or Ford or Chrysler, they’re going to be happy to give you a deal on something that gets you better gas mileage. What’s that? You don’t have money for a trade-in? Really? It couldn’t be more than $40,000. What are you? Barely living over the poverty level earning just $200,000 or something? Didn’t realize you’re like an inbred pig farmer or something. (Laughter). Well, I guess you’ll just have to scrounge some more money together. When I need to do that, I just put out another memoir. It’s really easy, and you don’t even have to write because I assume you’re illiterate. (Laughter). You just go to a nearby university and get your tenured terrorists friend to write it. What? You don’t have a tenured terrorist friend? (Laughter). Hey! Everyone! Look at this guy here! He doesn’t even know a tenured terrorist! What a stupid redneck! Probably only knows pigs and hillbillies. (Laughter). I guess you’ll just have to write your own memoir like an idiot. Now why don’t you go back to your pig farm and help train your ten freak kids for the Special Olympics, you stupid redneck. I’m guessing all us city folk are confusing you. (Laughter).

Americans are so stupid. (Laughter).

In My World: Coming Clean on Libya

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“…and that’s about all I have to say about March Madness,” President Obama told the press while standing in front of a chart of his March Madness picks.

“I have a question,” one reporter said.

“Would you like me to repeat everything I just said about March Madness?”

“No; the question is about Libya.”

“Oh, well there is not really much to say about that. Qdaffy is a terrible dictator, so we’re going to use military force to take him out.”

“And do you see any hypocrisy after all your opposition to the war in Iraq?”

Obama looked confused. “I didn’t think anyone took that seriously.”

“It was kind of a big deal,” the reporter said. “People criticized Bush endlessly for years and quite vehemently. It was your party’s — and your own — main objection to him. There were huge protests constantly. He was called one of the worst president’s ever because of it, and some on the left even called him a war criminal.”

“Oh. I think I see the confusion.” Obama nodded. “Let me explain it this way: I’m a left-winger, so pretty much everything out of my mouth is just partisan nonsense.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think it’s pretty easy to understand,” Obama continued. “We on the left act like this and that is a big deal, but all we care about our partisan politics. If someone can be identified as being on the other side of us politically, then that person is the devil to us and we will attack him or her with idiotic thing we can think of. And we’ll act like it’s a huge deal, but our objections don’t come from any coherent political philosophy or actual concern for poor or oppressed people. We just don’t like people disagreeing with us and that’s the entirety of what we care about.”

“So none of those countless objections from the left to the war in Iraq was based on any real sentiments?”

“Only our hatred of Bush being a Republican,” Obama explained. “Absolutely everything we acted like was a big deal about Iraq was just nonsense and we didn’t really care about it. We even actually found Abu Ghraib kind of funny. We’re utterly useless people who just like to argue and don’t care about the consequences. It’s completely insane that anyone paid us even the slightest attention when something important like a war was going on. And it’s pretty crazy you elected someone like me to be president when I had clearly demonstrated time and time again that I am a useless partisan idiot with nothing to contribute to society. Did you reporters even look into the community I organized in Chicago? It fell into the sea — and Chicago is hundreds of miles from the sea. That’s how less than useless I am.”

“So… why are you telling us this now?”

“Well, it’s just getting real hard to pretend that Bush did things wrong when I’m basically copying everything he did. I mean, he was a president who actually had some idea what he was doing, so really the best I can do is just try to ape him. It’s a little bit different just because of how spineless I am; for instance, I’m letting France now lead the way on military operations. Still, it’s hard to pretend I’m not ending up in the exact same place as Bush, and I don’t have time both to both spin that and make my picks for my brackets in March Madness.” Obama took another look at his chart. “And they were pretty good picks, huh?”

“Just one more question: So, to be clear, you’re basically denouncing everything the left stands for?”

“Yep. Pretty much. I and everyone else on the left are useless whiny people with no real concern about anyone or anything outside of partisan politics. Everything we say is completely pointless and no one should ever listen to us. Now, if you have anymore questions about Libya, please direct them to the new man I put in charge of it: Ronald Dumsfeld. He’s someone who… Okay, he’s Donald Rumsfeld in a wig; I don’t have time to keep up any subterfuge. Gotta go play some golf!”

Random Thoughts

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Democrats are going to take a dollar away from you because the thought of someone else getting ten was too unbearable.

At least Obama has now united both sides in agreeing he’s a huge failure.

The GOP should propose their own DREAM Act, like making it illegal to set illegal aliens on fire or something.

The best way to end illegal immigration would be to make Mexico a functional country, but that would be meddling.

It was interesting watching the episode where Palin stocked up on caribou meat, but I thought the citizens of Alaska mainly liked pork.

In My World: Sarah Palin’s Alaska

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Transcript from Sarah Palin’s Alaska.

SARAH PALIN: “Hello! Welcome to Sarah Palin’s Alaska, the show where you get to see the beauty of Alaska while we brutalize all the wildlife in it.”

PIPER PALIN: “I found a bunny rabbit in our backyard. I punched it in the face.”

SARAH: “Isn’t she precious? I try to instill in my children the values I was taught such as not letting nature push you around.”

WILLOW PALIN: “Die fish! Die!”

SARAH: “Willow is demonstrating a common technique of repeatedly whacking a fish against a rock and then throwing its corpse back in the lake. This tells fish to stay out of our way. Of course, you don’t always do that by killing things. The other day I took my Glock and knee-capped a moose. When other moose see him lying there bleeding, they’ll know not to mess with the Palins. If only the lame-stream media were that smart.”

TODD PALIN: “The new piano is here.”

SARAH: “Oh. Good. We really needed a new piano because already cut all the wire out of the last one to make garrotes. Last one I used to strangle a grizzly bear; I’m the only mama grizzly in these parts. Anyway, let me show you the guest we have downstairs in the basement.”

AARON SORKIN: “You’re a crazy redneck! I hope you die!”

SARAH: “We don’t like this person, so we kidnapped, put him in our basement, and are now waterboarding him.”

SORKIN: “You crazy… gurgle…”

SARAH: “You may wonder if that’s legal, but remember we’re really far away. Like if this were a live show — which it isn’t — and you wanted to run to his rescue, it would take you hours by plane just to get here. Plus, we’re a very large state and you’ll never find me. So essentially I’m above the law.”

SORKIN: “I’ll tell you anything!”

SARAH: “I think I — and the American people — have made it pretty clear we don’t care to hear anything you liberals have to say.”

SORKIN: “Somebody help me!”

PIPER: “That man is funny. I’ll get more water.”

SARAH: “Well, tune in next week when we drive around in a jeep trying to knock the heads off a caribou with a baseball bat. That’s the way we do things in Alaska, and if any of you have a problem with, remember that no one in my family would bat an eye at killing you.”

In My World: Hostage Takers

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President Obama answered the phone. “Hello?”

“This is the Republicans,” answered a distorted a voice. “We have someone you might want to talk to.”

On the line was a new voice. “I’m a middle class tax payer! The Republicans have taken me hostage!” she said unconvincingly. “They say they’ll raise my taxes too if taxes are raised on the rich and won’t extend my unemployment! I am very scared! Please do help me and do whatever the Republicans want!”

The Republican came back on the line. “So, to show you we’re serious–”

“I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!” Obama screamed.

There was a long pause on the phone. “Really?”

“Yes; whatever. Just write it down, and I’ll do it.”

“Oh… okay. Cool.”

Obama hung up the phone and announced, “We’re doing whatever the Republicans want.”

“Why?” one of his aides asked.

“Because they have the middle class hostage… or something.”

“No they don’t,” the aide said. “We still have the majority and they don’t have any leverage. Their hostage was probably just Michelle Bachman acting. We can defeat them if–”

“Whatever you’re proposing sounds hard,” Obama interrupted, “and my tee time is coming up soon.”

“Fine. But you’re going to really anger the left-wing,” the aide said.

“We’re really angry!” screeched a high pitch voice.

Obama looked down to see the left-wing down at this feet, shaking their tiny fists up at him.

“We’re going to challenge you in the primary!” the left-wing shrieked.

“Sure you are.” Obama grabbed a wastebasket and overturned it over the left-wing, trapping them inside. “There, I took care of them.”

The left-wing banged their tiny fists on the wastebasket. “Lets us out!”

“I’ll do it later,” Obama told them, “and then you’ll be so grateful to me.” He turned to his aide. “So just write me up some speech saying the Republicans are hostage takers and I had to give in to their demands — but mention that terrorists shouldn’t learn anything from that. And then add that thing we’re always mindlessly repeating about how tax cuts creating jobs.”

“Republicans are the ones that say that.”

“Whatever. Just use it. And add that though we didn’t defeat the rich today, we’ll do it one day and make sure no one has money. Off to play golf!” He then left the room.

“We hate him now!” the left screeched.

The aide kicked the wastebasket. “Shut up! No one cares!”