So anyhow, this happened — another strong contender for the darkest day in American history. At least until Comrade Hussein Marx Obama Tse-Tung inevitably socializes all private industry, surrenders our nuclear codes to the Red Chinese, and uses the Constitution to roll a bomber joint, which he’ll immediately proceed to smoke with those lesbians on The View. That day will be the winner, and it will be here before we know it. Mark my words!
Anyhow, while I fully realize that no quantity of food, booze, chemicals, or sex will help ease my pain and despair, I’m still giving it the old college try.
To that end, I’m currently ensconced in my palatial hot tub, with one call girl feeding me a Philly cheesesteak while a second monitors the array of IVs attempting to pump nirvana into my nervous system. And two more are making out across from me. OK, yes, and another pair is playing “Caesar fish” beneath the surface. But I assure you, none of it’s helping.
Hmm. Wonder what it’ll cost me to have them all put on Obama masks and lie still for a group Cleveland Steamer? Guess I’m going to find out. Until next time — choo choo.