Mah Buddy Barry aka Barack (Part One)
Ah ain’t used to writin much but ah tries and dats da main thing right? Ah gots lotsa help with dis so don’t complane bout my speling, ok? I jest wanna share mah o-pinions an complaints about our most awesomest president.
Most people call him Barack Obama or mebbe include his middle name, Hussein, but dat just be too Muslim, if yo catch mah drift. Anyways, to me he’s just plain ol’ “Barry,” the name he used fo years befo he got uppity and went to Columbia and Hahvard with a little help from his friends and learnt about his roots like Kunta Kinte.
I can call him Barry since him, Mishelle, and his honky veep an his dago campaign manager adress me by the name mah momma gave me when they email me once or twicet a week.
Ah signed up to be on Barry’s emailing list years ago and, since den ah be most proud to say I been invited to the White House a buncha times. Well, dey wasn’t invitations, dey was “opportunitys” to be invited if ah sent him money but ah consider them pretty real, specially dose extra-special invites to Barry’s and Mishelles birthday blasts.
Ah didn’t go because ah couldnt buy presents after we spend all our food stamps on some goodies, Ha, Ha, ya know wut ah mean. Ahm a responsibble person. Ah needed what was left to feed all my kids.
Yep, ahm what dey call a forty-seven percenter cuz 47% of Amerika is on food stamps and Barry is da food stamp prez and whats wrong with dat? They ain’t stamps no more, anyway. Now dey give us a credit card thing that makes us look like we’re acshully payin for our food!
Now, I can unnerstand the prez’s Wall Street friends like Goodman Sax are pissed at him for calling dem ”fat cats” but, c’mon, dey are fat, but why is it all about the green alla time, man? The Obama emails always go back to money like when ah was sorta invited to a party jest yesterday by some beatch, Ann Marie Habershaw.
She was nice tho and she gave me some good advise. She told me to ”Choose your guest wisely” when ah send her three my bucks–which i didn’t–to enter a raffle “to go to a party for the President at George Clooney’s house.” He’s dat actor that everyone thinks is gay but ah think he’s a lyin’ hypocrit for tryin to say he’s a ninety-nine percenter and we all know he’s a stinkin zillionire!
Just today, ah gots anudder emails what sez dey will pays mah aeroplane fair, dat is if ah coughs up dat tree bucks an ah wins da contest. Ahm not gonna tho. Ah jest don’t think no grate man like Barry shoud be rafflin hisself off like dat for 3 lousy bucks!
They all seem to have this thing about dat three number. My buddy hisself sent me an email last week. He sez, “The other side thinks they can win by trashing me” and axed me to give him three to help stop that damn trashing.
Ah couldn’t figger whose been trashing . . .
(Read more at http://www.genelalor.com/blog1/?p=22350)
Ah ain’t used to writin much but ah tries and dats da main thing right? Ah gots lotsa help with dis so don’t complane bout my speling, ok? I jest wanna share mah o-pinions an complaints about our most awesomest president.
Most people call him Barack Obama or mebbe include his middle name, Hussein, but dat just be too Muslim, if yo catch mah drift. Anyways, to me he’s just plain ol’ “Barry,” the name he used fo years befo he got uppity and went to Columbia and Hahvard with a little help from his friends and learnt about his roots like Kunta Kinte.
I can call him Barry since him, Mishelle, and his honky veep an his dago campaign manager adress me by the name mah momma gave me when they email me once or twicet a week.
Ah signed up to be on Barry’s emailing list years ago and, since den ah be most proud to say I been invited to the White House a buncha times. Well, dey wasn’t invitations, dey was “opportunitys” to be invited if ah sent him money but ah consider them pretty real, specially dose extra-special invites to Barry’s and Mishelles birthday blasts.
Ah didn’t go because ah couldnt buy presents after we spend all our food stamps on some goodies, Ha, Ha, ya know wut ah mean. Ahm a responsibble person. Ah needed what was left to feed all my kids.
Yep, ahm what dey call a forty-seven percenter cuz 47% of Amerika is on food stamps and Barry is da food stamp prez and whats wrong with dat? They ain’t stamps no more, anyway. Now dey give us a credit card thing that makes us look like we’re acshully payin for our food!
Now, I can unnerstand the prez’s Wall Street friends like Goodman Sax are pissed at him for calling dem ”fat cats” but, c’mon, dey are fat, but why is it all about the green alla time, man? The Obama emails always go back to money like when ah was sorta invited to a party jest yesterday by some beatch, Ann Marie Habershaw.
She was nice tho and she gave me some good advise. She told me to ”Choose your guest wisely” when ah send her three my bucks–which i didn’t–to enter a raffle “to go to a party for the President at George Clooney’s house.” He’s dat actor that everyone thinks is gay but ah think he’s a lyin’ hypocrit for tryin to say he’s a ninety-nine percenter and we all know he’s a stinkin zillionire!
Just today, ah gots anudder emails what sez dey will pays mah aeroplane fair, dat is if ah coughs up dat tree bucks an ah wins da contest. Ahm not gonna tho. Ah jest don’t think no grate man like Barry shoud be rafflin hisself off like dat for 3 lousy bucks!
They all seem to have this thing about dat three number. My buddy hisself sent me an email last week. He sez, “The other side thinks they can win by trashing me” and axed me to give him three to help stop that damn trashing.
Ah couldn’t figger whose been trashing . . .
(Read more at http://www.genelalor.com/blog1/?p=22350)
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