Tag Archives: Barack Obama

Beyonce and Obama: An Inaugural Disgrace

Did you guys hear that Beyonce lip-synched the national anthem at Barack Obama’s inauguration? I’m physically ill just thinking about it. Hold on. OK, I held it back. But that was tough. Wait, it’s coming back. OK, I’m good. Wait. No. Wait. All right, I think it’s passed.

On inauguration day. What a travesty. What a mockery. Of America! Do you know that she didn’t even write that song? Come on, you’re going to sing a cover at the swearing in of the President? What’s wrong with you, Beyonce? Don’t you have any pride? Don’t you care about performing, about originality, about the President? About America?

And that was just Beyonce. Obama’s performance that whole day was just as disgraceful. Did you see the parade? Him and his wife walking down the street? Obama kept smiling and waving. Who was he waving at? Do you think he personally knows anybody that he was waving to? What a phony. Get rid of this hack. If I’m walking down the street, I don’t just start waving at random people. It’s so fake.

And the smiling? Is anybody that genuinely happy for that continuous a stretch of time? There’s no way his or the first lady’s smiles were real, not a hundred percent of the time. I’m sorry, but America deserves a President that doesn’t have to fake being happy. Fake smile. Fake wave. Fake national anthem.

Oh yeah, and that speech he gave? Pre-written. Read off of a teleprompter. What is this, Saturday Night Live? I expect my President to get out there and speak, from the cuff, off the cuff, from the heart. He shouldn’t have to think ahead about what he needs to say. Blah blah blah America. Blah blah blah we the people. Not leaving anything to chance are you Mr. President?

And speaking of fake speeches. Did you watch the speech on TV? Well guess what? That wasn’t the President you heard pretending to make a speech. It was your TV. You were looking at a screen. That voice? It’s just a pair of speakers. You’re going to let some stupid machine that you bought at a department store tell you how excited it is to lead the nation forward? I didn’t think so.

Oh, but you went to DC to hear the speech in person? Sorry, that wasn’t the President either. That was a whole sound system of speakers and PAs all laid out along the periphery of the mall. That wasn’t really his voice you were hearing, it was a facsimile of his voice, amplified by even more machines. You didn’t hear Abe Lincoln making some machine do his speech making for him. No, he stood there and he screamed so that everybody could hear him. Why wasn’t Obama screaming? Couldn’t you at least fake scream? A total lack of enthusiasm. It’s like the one thing he forgot to pretend to do was to pretend to care.

This guy is the worst President our country has ever had. And he’s up there and he’s fake smiling. You ever see that guy’s teeth? They’re way too perfect. Are you telling me that that is his natural smile? Absolutely no way. I’m sure he’s had at least a couple of fillings, maybe some bridge work. What a phony! He can’t even get up there and flash a natural smile. You know what George Washington had? Wooden teeth, like a real man, like a real American. Sure it was disgusting, and nobody wanted to stand too close to him, because not only was it unsightly, but toothpaste hadn’t been invented yet, so all of those gross gum abscesses, they really just kept the General at a distance. But nobody doubted his sincerity, his love of country, his devotion to the Constitution. Sure, you couldn’t always understand him, because, again, the wooden teeth, and when he sang the national anthem, well, I don’t think it was written until much later, but whatever, it was garbled and all of those guys were always kind of drunk anyway, but that’s the way it was, that was the safest thing to drink back then, booze, everything else might of had cholera or typhoid. But those guys, those men, Washington, Lincoln, they were the real deal. Not like this pretty boy Obama with his fancy fake speeches and his pretend national anthem and his microphones and his overcoats. You didn’t see Jefferson wearing an overcoat. And why doesn’t Obama wear a powdered wig? Too good for tradition?

Four more years boys and girls. Four more years until we can get a real inauguration with a real singer and a real speech. I mean, really.

President Obama: Worst President in History

President Obama is, in my opinion, the worst President in the history of the United States. Scratch that, in the history of the world. In the history of history. The President of Egypt is a better president. The President of the East Coast Star Trek Fan Club is a better president. Obviously, that President doesn’t have as many responsibilities, but the responsibilities that he does have, he executes flawlessly. And so even though it might not be that important of a presidency, I’d argue that he’s still the better President.

One time President Obama came to my hometown on a bus tour. I was so excited to maybe get a chance to meet the President, I waited inside this twenty-four hour diner for two whole days, because I knew that he’d be stopping by. It was kind of an ordeal. When I got there two days earlier, I asked for a table for two. I sat down and when the waiter came by, I said that somebody’s coming to join me and that I’d like to wait until he arrives.

I wasn’t lying. I was waiting for Obama. As soon as he walked in, I’d direct him to my table, because surely the place is going to be packed, standing room only. So I’d have the only open seat in the whole restaurant. He’d have to sit with me, right? So the waiter asked me if I’d like something to drink while I wait, and I said sure, I’ll have a glass of water.

And then the waiter said, “Listen, if you think you’re going to sit here for two days to wait for you-know-who, you’re out of your mind. It’s not going to happen.” So I ordered a Coke. That bought me maybe another fifteen minutes. When the waiter came back, insisting that I order something or leave, I asked him if they had free refills. He walked away and I assumed he went to get me another Coke.

But a manager came by and told me, “All right buddy, let’s go. Out.” So this wasn’t working out like I thought it would. I had to think, quick. So I said, “Finally, somebody to take my order. I’ve been waiting here for like half an hour. Can I get a cheeseburger? Deluxe? Waffle fries?” And the manager kind of turned around and gave that waiter a really nasty look and started to walk away. But I called out, “Wait a second!” and he stopped. I took a giant sip out of my Coke, all the way to the end, so the straw was making a really loud obnoxious slurping noise, and I held out the glass and shook the ice and said, “Can you have that waiter bring me another Coke?”

But again, this only bought me maybe an hour. I ate really slow. Like I cut up the waffle fries, cut them into individual shoestring sized fries, and then I asked for them to be reheated. Finally I had no choice but to finish everything. All of that stalling actually built up a pretty big appetite. And then the waiter came over with the check. And I said, “Wait a second, no dessert?” And I had to order a piece of pie. But I still had over a day and a half left until the President showed up.

Now the manager came back again and told me to take a hike. I told him that I wanted another cheeseburger. He looked at me and said, “OK buddy, you want to play it like that? Fine. You keep ordering, you get to stay.” I asked him if they took credit cards. He said cash only.

So finally the big moment came. The secret service guys entered first, did a huge sweep. I thought they were going to ask me a bunch of questions, but they kind of just looked here and there and then positioned themselves around the periphery of the restaurant. Next came the reporters, photographers, all lining up alongside the entrance. When their cameras started flashing, I knew this was it, the President.

And he took one step in and I knew something was wrong, because I saw his hand first, and it was white, like a white guy’s hand. So I immediately knew it wasn’t the President. But there was still a huge commotion, tons of people swarming, trying to get a closer look, and I couldn’t see the guy’s face.

The manager came back over and told me he needed my table. I explained to him the extra seat but this time he wouldn’t even listen, he just grabbed by the back of the neck and picked me up. He wasn’t taller than me, but he was a big guy, and he’d obviously done this before. So now I’m standing in the crowd with everyone else and the guy sits down and it’s definitely not the President. It’s the Vice-President. It’s Joe Biden. And he’s sitting with some secret service agent.

And I look around at the flyers on the wall and the banners draped across the ceiling and it says everywhere, “Welcome Mr. Vice-President!” How could I have missed that? I couldn’t have. Obama had to have known I was waiting there for him, to give him a piece of my mind, and so he must have made Biden go, and he must have made the owners change all of the signs and banners while I wasn’t looking.

Biden ordered an egg-salad sandwich and the secret service guy ordered a bacon cheeseburger. The secret service agent must have been paying more attention to the crowd than to the VP, because when he went to use the salt shaker, the cap fell off and his burger got covered in a whole pile of salt. Biden screamed out, “Ha! Classic Biden!” Everyone kind of laughed, and even the agent chuckled a little bit.

But then things got weird. When the agent called over the waiter to ask for a new burger, Biden got pissed, like furious, bright red faced. He stood up and started screaming at the agent, accusing him of not taking him seriously, about how he’s the Vice-President of the United States. He demanded that the agent eat that burger as is, with the salt and everything. Everybody in the diner got really quiet and finally the agent picked up his burger and took a big bite. You could tell just by the expression on this guy’s face that it must have been awful, just way too much salt.

And then Biden yelled out, “Ha! That’s the best part of the joke! It’s not just that the salt goes on the burger, but that he keeps eating it, like an idiot! Ha!” Then he pointed at the agent and screamed, “Laugh!” And the agent started a really forced laugh, and Biden continued, “Don’t stop eating! Laugh and eat at the same time! Now!” and the agent tried to do it as best as he could, but he must have gotten some food or salt down his windpipe and he started coughing. He reached for his glass of water but Biden grabbed it first and started chugging the whole thing. But Biden started laughing before he finished the whole glass and so he started choking a little himself. And the agent was still laughing like he was told to. So Biden stood up, furious, pointed at the agent and said, “Don’t you laugh at me! I’m the Vice-President of the United States of America! Who the hell do you think you are? You’re nobody!”

And I was just so tired at this point. I’d eaten like twelve burgers and hadn’t slept at all in two days. Just to see Obama. That coward. What a failure. A complete, abject failure. If there were a society of Worst Presidents in the History of All Presidencies, Obama would be President of that group. And all of the other worst Presidents would impeach him, they’d say, “Man, Obama is the worst President that this organization has ever had. Ever.”

A stunning, historic, stunning victory

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all of these Barack Obama commemorative plates that I invested in shortly after the 2008 general election. I’m assuming that they’re all skyrocketing in value as I write this, but I didn’t realize how tough investing actually is. Like, I totally didn’t think about the fact that, while my money is maturing in my victory-plate portfolio, I’m really not able to use any of it. And times are getting tough. I’m starving.

Every once in a while I’ll try to bring one of my victory-plates around and try to buy stuff on credit. The problem is getting these plates anywhere. They’re very fragile, much more delicate than you’d expect, and I’m not really comfortable stacking them up so they’re easier to transport. But then again, if I choose to leave them in their special commemorative victory-plate protectors, then I can’t carry more that two or three at the same time.

One time I went to the Home Depot and one of the cashiers seemed interested in making a trade. After a brief negotiation, we struck a deal: two and a half victory-plates for an extension chord and a nine-volt battery. So I handed over the victory-plates and waited for change. But the cashier wasn’t allowed to give me cash back for plates. She cracked one in half. Two and a half victory-plates. But then she told me that, now that she was looking at this plate cracked down the middle, she wasn’t sure if it had the same value as it did when it was whole. I tried to argue that it wasn’t a clean break, that it wasn’t precisely down the middle, and that I’d be willing to part with the bigger half if we could just get on with this transaction. Unfortunately for me, a manager came over and shooed the cashier away. Turns out she wasn’t a cashier at all. She was, once, like months ago, but she got fired for being crazy. But she kept showing up randomly in an orange vest acting like she still worked there. I asked the manager about the victory-plates and he told me sorry, cash only.

“What about the certificates of authenticity that came specially numbered with each plate?” I asked the manager. “Aren’t those kind of like banknotes? Like how dollar bills used to be used so that people didn’t have to carry all of their gold around?” The manager wouldn’t budge. I demanded to see a different manager. He said fine, walked away, but then came back fifteen minutes later claiming to be a different manager. It was clearly the same person. I’m not an idiot. Home Depot has the worst customer service.

I hope the Euro collapses. I hope that, by the time this article makes it up on this blog, the Euro is gone. That’s what I need. I need a society with absolutely no dominant currency. I initially wrote that I hope that the US dollar collapses, and while, yes, that probably would have proved to be somewhat of a vindication in the short-term, with everyone else carrying around wheel barrels full of useless greenbacks, unable to trade them in for even a loaf of stale bread or a gallon of expired-but-not-yet-spoiled milk, and I’d be sitting on a fortune in cold, hard, recession-proof, economic collapse-proof victory-plates, I realized that I probably wouldn’t want to actually live in a society completely overrun by financial ruin. No, I’d rather use the value of my victory-plates to exploit a separate society, like Europe, and then use that wealth to live very comfortably over here. Greece looks like it’s going to need a new currency pretty soon. I think I have enough Obama plates to cover at least the mainland. I’m not sure about all of the islands though. I think my parents have some George H. W. Bush commemorative silverware locked up in an undisclosed location somewhere. I keep trying to get them to show me where it’s all being stored, but they’re so secretive with their cutlery, which, I guess is a smart move. There’s no way I’d ever tell anyone where I’m hoarding all of my wealth.

Part of me hopes Obama doesn’t win come November, not because of any politics or anything petty, but it’s because I’m pretty sure that reelection-plates rarely fetch as high of a market value as commemorative, stunning, historic victory inauguration-plates. I’ve already called up the Franklin Mint and put special hold orders on any potential Romney dishes, or Romney limited edition soap dishes, and they said OK, but they needed half of my Obama-plates as a deposit. But none of this is helping me out with my finances. Like I said, I’m starving here. I have all of these plates but nothing to put on them to eat. Not that I would actually use the victory-plates as actual plates, like I wouldn’t put food on them or anything stupid like that. I just thought it was a nice little image there, the absence of food contrasted with the abundance of plates.

I’m totally serious here, I swear

Did you guys know that I correctly predicted that Barack Obama would win the 2008 presidential election? Sure, you might be saying to yourself that it’s not a big deal. Some might even say it was pretty obvious. But I correctly predicted the results in 1998, when I was still in the eighth grade, when Barack Obama was just recently elected to the Illinois State Senate. Looking back on how things unfolded, correctly, exactly how I said they would, I really should have made more of an effort to publicize my premonition. But I didn’t.

I can tell you’re all a little skeptical. Here, I can prove it. I wrote the following in one of my notebooks, in 1998, over thirteen years ago, word for word:

“This is really weird. I just had a dream where it was 2008 and this guy named Barack Obama won the presidency. He beat Senator John McCain. I wonder if my dream was real. Will this really happen? Should I tell somebody? Call a newspaper reporter? Nah, I think I’m just going to sit here and listen to my new Korn CD. These guys are great. Maybe I’ll call up Spin Magazine and predict that Korn is going to be the number one band of my generation.”

You see? I told you so. I can kind of understand your inclination to doubt me. And in case you think I just made up that quote, well then why would I have included the lame-ass Korn reference? That’s because that excerpt is real, embarrassingly dated band reference and all. I await your apologies.

Did you guys know that last night at work, I was standing around bullshitting with some of my coworkers, when one of them took four quarters out of his pocket? He held out his arm and bent his elbow up, so his hand was by his ear. He took the four quarters and stacked them on top of his forearm. He then swung his whole arm down in one motion. I flinched, just waiting for one of the quarters to go flying in my face, but after a minute, I opened my eyes and he was just standing there smiling. He had caught all of the quarters. It was amazing and everyone was patting him on the back and telling him how cool of trick that was.

So I got an even better idea. I took all of the cash out my pocket and had them changed into quarters. I gathered everyone around and stacked the coins up on my arm, just like he did. I didn’t even count how much money it was, but the stack had to be like at least three feet high. And that’s a pretty impressive story right there, just the fact that I was able to balance all of those quarters. But it gets better.

I said, “OK boys, everybody ready?” and everyone said to me, “Rob, hold up a second. We’ve all got a bad feeling about this. Just think about what your doing. This is impossible!” and I just shouted, “Now!” and I swung my arm down, just like that other guy. And when I told you that I had flinched the first time, that was nothing compared to how everybody reacted here. One guy curled up into the fetal position on the floor. Talk about overreacting.

Anyway, after a minute, everybody started opening their eyes. One guy crawled out from behind a counter. And I was just standing there, but the quarters were gone. Not only had I caught all of them, but I had somehow cashed them back in for dollar bills. I was just standing there with the bills all spread out in my hand, and I was fanning my face with them, like it was no big deal. Someone started a slow clap, just like on TV, and pretty soon the whole place was just drowned out in applause.

I’m serious! I swear! Look, here’s a text message one of my coworkers sent to me later that night, proving that it happened.

“Holy shit Rob! That trick you did with the quarters … that was unbelievable! I told all of my friends and family members but nobody believes me! Can you come over my house and show my mom? Please? Please? I’ll do anything! Also, thanks for letting me borrow your Preparation H. I can’t believe I forgot mine at home. I owe you one man!”

You see? That just proves it. Because, why would I include such an embarrassing anecdote about hemorrhoid cream if not just to prove to you how true the first part was. I’m serious! Just ask anybody that I work with! I’m not lying!