Barack Obama's And Manuela Fonetcilla's Race Problem Or Whatever Her Problem Is

POSTED BY: Carla Freeman, Junior Class President

Oct 14, 2008, 3:00 pm

Sorry it's been awhile, guys, but that Media Studies project took FOREVER because my partner, Faith Napier, didn't do ANYTHING at all, and I had to make that commercial all by myself. UGGH. Here's some advice for the candidates: If your running mate dies or drops out, don't pick Faith Napier!

Anyway, I was going to write about Barack Obama and the big race issue for this post, and I had it all planned out: I was going to go ask Manuela Fonetcilla, the exchange student from Chile, what is was like to not be white and run for secretary of SADD, so I would know what Barack Obama is going through. And so I go up and ask, but she goes, "I don't want to be in your stupid thing." WHAT? EFF HER. Everybody at school but her would LOVE to be on my blog. I don't know what her problem is. Maybe she's still mad that I volunteered her to make Chilean food for the Foods Across the Globe event at parent-teacher conferences last month without asking her, but if she is, that's really retarded. If I knew how to make Chilean food, I would make it all the time for people.

Judging from Manuela, this is what it's like for Barack Obama to run for president when he's black: He always smells like pepper, he never eats anything at lunch because he's probably anorexic, and he's given head to that ugly-ass Josh West who's a member of his host family.

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Bloody 'ell! Voter Registration Deadlines Are Nearly 'ere!

POSTED BY: Pip Dawkins, 19th Century Street Urchin

Oct 13, 2008, 10:09 pm

Why 'ello, 'ello! I've found an empty sack of flour what to write on, and not a moment too soon. Mr. Greystone 'as just informed me that, across the pond, the fat 'as really hit the fryer —the Americans finish their last month before the big vote! After 'e said that, Mr. Greystone said an 'ole mess of things about registering and polling districts, but I didn't 'ear a word. I just couldn't stop thinking about that delicious fat 'e mentioned. Mmmm…what I wouldn't give to 'ave a nice morsel of fat to chew on for supper. I'd 'ave some now and, if'n it was big enough for two meals, I'd save the rest for Christmas Day. Or per'aps I'd use a corner of it to trap a rat, what to train 'im to be my friend always and forever.

Begging your pardon, friends. I've let me stomach run riot again. Back to the matter at 'and. Voter registration deadlines are coming up faster than the railway to Greenwich, so if you 'aven't gone and signed yourself up for the wondrous 'onor of casting a vote—lads, now's the time! It won't cost you a six-p'nce, and I 'ear they send you a lovely bit of paper for your trouble. Seems they even put your name onnit. Imagine! Why I didn't see me name writt'n out 'til I was near 10 years old and they discharged me from the orphanage with nothing but an empty tin can and me dirty ole breetches! Still the happiest day of my life, that. Was the day I found out I had a last name. And a father.

So, get out there and vote, yanks! Or at least get yourselves your rightful bit of paper!

• http://www.bothervoting.org/

• http://www.rockthevote.com/

• http://www.usa.gov/Citizen/Topics/Voting/Register.shtml

• http://www.voteforchange.com/

• https://www.overseasvotefoundation.org/overseas/home.htm

An' do save me some a that delicious fat if you wouldn't mind. All this political analyzing 'as made me terribly faint.

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The Anti-Obama Attack Campaign Is Developing, And So am I!

POSTED BY: Gary Brunson, 5-Week-Old Fetus

Oct 11, 2008, 1:26 pm

Yes! Finally, the McCain-Palin ticket is coming out swinging. I may only be an undifferentiated mass of cellular tissue, but even I could predict that as November got closer, they were finally going to go on the offensive, and boy oh boy, they did not disappoint me! For the last week, Palin has gone ballistic about Barack Hussein and his connections to crazed bomber 60s radicals.

All right! Now that’s the Republican party I know and love!

What’s the matter, liberals? Does what I’m saying upset you? Think that just because I'm a fetus that means I can’t play hardball with the big boys, is that it? Well guess what, blue-state donkeys? I can say anything I want and there's nothing you can do about it, because I haven’t been born yet, and as a member of the unborn, I am more important than everything else on Earth.

Hell, even a retarded fetus is more important than any other concern you can name—lack of experience, lack of knowledge, a pronounced inability to answer simple questions.

Still don’t like what I’m saying? Well, how about you try sucking it up, jerkwads! After all, what else can you really do?

Come on, I dare you! I double dare you! Yeah, that's right, I didn’t think you had the guts.

Man, being a fetus fucking rules.

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The Suspense! It's Killing Me!!

POSTED BY: Dac Kien, Retired Vietcong Torturer

Oct 10, 2008, 6:15 pm

Well, well, my old friend John McCain, the election is only weeks away and I for one can barely stand the suspense! I am on the edge of my seat—not unlike how you used to be when I forced you into that special, narrow bamboo cage for weeks on end. And as the election gets closer, Johnny, I’m pulling for you—pulling like how I did with your hair, your American hands tied behind your back, your face dragging underwater through all those rice paddies!

Ha ha.

Remember that? I’ll bet you do! I used to worry that you had forgotten those days, because you had perhaps blocked out the memories as too agonizing for your conscious mind to retain. But a quick glance at your press appearances over the last weeks has reassured me that you seem to remember just fine!

In fact, you can’t seem to stop talking about it!

Aw, it really takes me back...Good times, good times.

We sure have come a long way since those days, huh, my friend? Who would’ve thought, back then, in that lice-infested prison camp we used to call home, that one day those horrible experiences would be so useful in establishing what amounts to the only credibility you have among the voters of your country?

If I had known I was going to be of such help to your presidential campaign 40 years later, I would have tortured you even harder! Anything I can do to help, old buddy.

Ha ha. C’mon, Johnny boy, I’m just joshing you!

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No Luck In Muscatine

POSTED BY: Kendra Davidson, Owner of The Davidson Family Restaurant in Cedar Rapids, IA

Oct 09, 2008, 10:37 am

Well, things have been heating up again in the Hawkeye State where Barack Obama has at least a nine-point lead in the polls, due in equal parts to hard campaigning and an understaffed McCain campaign. So I figured hey, if Obama's the man of the hour, I should probably gas up the trusty Davidson's catering truck and make the trip to Muscatine where the Democratic candidate had stopped to make his pitch. If he won't come to Davidson's family restaurant, I thought, then why not bring Davidson's down home cooking right to him? And with all that local media there, it seemed like it would have been a regular P.R. coup for me, right?

Wrong. What an ungrateful bastard Obama turned out to be. No sooner had I approached the senator with a steaming hot serving of Davidson's new Change Gravy Fries—only $3.99—than I was tackled by about eight Secret Service agents who broke my arm in the process. When I tried to explain about how the fries were a goddamned taste explosion, they brought in one of those bomb defusing robots and FUCKING BLEW UP THE DAVIDSON'S CATERING TRUCK. I still owe 18 grand on that stupid rig! And to top it all off, I spent a good 10 hours in a fucking detention cell being questioned.

Go fuck yourself, Obama. You may have 40 field offices and a commanding lead in Iowa polls, but John McCain's currently the frontrunner at Davidson's.

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Our Nation's Prisons Are A Shambles

POSTED BY: Sam Holtzman, Single Issue Voter

Oct 07, 2008, 3:21 pm

Life is funny sometimes. One day, you're outside enjoying your freedom at the local courts, taking in a nice game of J.V. ladies' basketball, and then – just like that – you get hauled off to court, convicted of some ridiculous crime* and tossed into some rat trap like a common criminal.

Worst of all is that the two candidates still won't give me the time of day.

What of it, Obama and McCain? Too busy going on about bailouts and Russia and God Knows What to talk about the real issues? When are you going to finally speak out against this injustice?

Believe me, this issue is too important to ignore any longer.

It's true: the conditions here are terrible. I currently live in a 7 x 10 windowless tank with poured concrete furniture. The weight rooms are overcrowded, the food is terrible, cable t.v. is only available if you're 'affiliated,' and for some reason there seems to be a horrific act of violence committed on or around 4 p.m. every day.

Where is the outrage?

The last time I saw someone, I told him I didn't do anything wrong, and he just laughed at me and said, "oh, me too, brother." This place reminds me of Shawshank, except that I don't have skills I can turn into favors from my warden, and also there's no hope of escape.

Why don't Barry and Johnny have the courage to talk about our nation's prisoners? We are 7.2 million strong! We have families and hopes and needs – deep-seated, unquenchable needs – just like the rest of you.

Doesn't anyone care about what happens to me?

I haven't lost my right to vote just yet, gentlemen.

*Statutory rape.

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I'm Sitting On A Pretty Big Story

POSTED BY: Peter Martling, Hungover Blogger

Oct 03, 2008, 2:58 pm

The info we got on the whole Palin e-mail thing is just the tip of the iceberg.

I think so anyway. Last night I met my Palin contact at the Black Cat, a rock-dump too far out of the Beltway for anyone to notice. I hate places like that, but I'm pretty sure this story is HUGE, and my source couldn't be seen talking to me.

So I went in and paid the cover for some band I had never heard of. I figured that $13 was a small price for the Story of the Election, and anyway I would be reimbursed, except that the guy at the door wouldn't give me a receipt, the prick. I did finally get him to scribble $13 on a napkin before going in to look for my Deep Throat.

Hold on. I need some water.

Okay, back. So the place is packed and I have no idea what my contact looks like. As a good journalist, I didn't want to stand out, so I wore an old REM shirt from college in order to blend in. My contact had some extremely scandalous Palin e-mails, ones that never made it to the web, ones that threatened to sink the whole damn ship. I wish I could fucking remember what they were about.

So I was trying to locate my source, but I wanted to keep a low profile, so I ordered a shot and a beer. I was blending in. I was going deep cover. And there was no way I was going to look comfortable without a drink in me.

And FUCK, I wish the fucking neghbors' kids would stop screaming out there.

Anyways, after three more trips to the bar, I finally spotted my contact by the stage. I went up and asked him about the e-mails, but he just shushed me. Turns out, he wanted to see the end of the song. I had two more shots and so did he.

Not he, I mean. She. My contact. It could have been a woman. Oh, Jesus, my head. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, why do I do this to myself?

By the time my contact was ready to talk, we were both pretty sloppy. We…hold on. Hold on. I'm okay. I'm okay. Hold on.

Oh god. Jesus. No I'm not.

Okay, back. My contact told me all sorts of things about the e-mail, but I lost my notebook, so I had to write them on my hand and a napkin.

I remember that whatever he or she said to me absolutely blew my mind, and I told my contact this was the biggest scandal of the last 100 years, and that I really loved my contact. I think I tried to make out with my contact. I think I was successful. Next thing I know, it's dawn and I can't open my front door. I think it was a huge scoop though. Fucking Jameson.

I tried calling my contact this morning, but it kept going straight to voicemail. All the writing was wiped off my hand, and the only thing legible on the napkin was "October surprise?!" Fuck. My head. I need some aspirin. Maybe I'll remember everything with some aspirin.

I just puked again.

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We Must Lower Age-Of-Consent Laws

POSTED BY: Sam Holtzman, Single Issue Voter

Oct 03, 2008, 1:12 pm

Ladies and Gentlemen, I come before you today to write about an issue that is very close to my heart: the reform of age-of-consent legislation.

I know what you're thinking. Sam, this is a third rail issue. You can't touch it. Give up now. Well, I'm here to say† "no."† These adolescents are the most important thing there is. Have you forgotten?

For starters, these laws are based on the crazy idea that the moment you turn 18, you gain the ability to make better decisions than you were making five minutes or seven months or whatever before that. It doesn't add up, to me, and it's insulting to the intelligence of 17-year-olds across this country.

Furthermore, a lot of regular, well-intentioned people get snared up in these laws. Lot of good people. Some states don't even have provisions to mitigate your sentence in case you happen to cough at the exact moment someone was saying their birthday. And just like that, it's 10 years in the slammer. Ten years.

Hear that, McCain? Are you going to acknowledge us now? If not, there are two words you might want to consider: Bristol Palin.

Listen, I have a daughter myself, and though she's not 17 yet, I like to think she has the sense of her older friend, Tiffany, who is 17 and who can make up her own decisions, and there's no two ways about it!

Just think of all the all the responsibility you handled at 17. I myself was doing AP Calculus, regularly shooting a licensed gun, and oh yeah, driving a car. Ask yourself: why does society entrust its so-called children with a two-ton crashing machine, but not their own bodies?

If you have a good answer to this, I will quit my job.

I would like to add that I truly hope Senator Obama was serious about his sex-ed for youths proposal, because if it gets passed, there will be no remaining rationale for these draconian laws. Good luck to you, sir – and shame on you, McCain, for criticizing it.

Until then, let's call these laws what they are: an arbitrary and possibly unconstitutional encroachment by a moralistic, nanny government.

We can do better, America.

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