As the President’s racist tanning bed tax went into effect today, Tipper had to come up with extra money for this week’s session. She still couldn’t quite understand why the President was imposing a special tax on her beauty treatment. Was he really a racist, she thought as she wrote a check for 10% more than last week’s session? Early this morning she got the news that the Portland Police were going after her soon to be ex-husband “crazed sex poodle” Al Gore and she needed to talk with Wayne her attorney.
Wayne had just finished his second cup of coffee and had plopped his new $3,000 Tony Lama’s on the Tennessee Granite topped desk that was placed in the center of a massive office overlooking the beautiful rolling hills just southwest of Nashville. The phone rang with Tipper on the other end. “Yes Tipper, I heard” as he preempted her question. “OK then, what is it, that you heard? I’m getting all my news from Fox since the DNC has the mainstream media all locked up.” “I understand it’s all about money. It’s always about money,” he said. “She wants a million dollars.” “Well, that’s coming from his half because I’m not paying for his blowjobs,” “Oh, I’ll make sure of that Tipper,” Wayne forcibly responded, “we’re going to make him pay big-time.” As the conversation ended after a few more updates Tipper thought how Al had changed so much over the years. It was as though he sold his soul and the only thing that drove him was the power. That’s when she lost him, she lamented.
It was 10:30 A.M. somewhere over the Pacific Ocean in a military transport that Attorney General Eric Holder threw up for what seemed like the hundredth time, as his trip back from hell, Afghanistan, had turned into the flight from hell. As he moved about the plane bumping into walls and gear the sweat poured off his face in a stream. His body was so dehydrated from the loss of fluids he felt like he had lost 20 pounds and just wanted to die. Between the bad food from the night before at Karzai’s house and the rough flight, he was ready to jump. He knew he had 6 more hours of this hell and had no idea how he was going to make it as the jet hit an air pocket and shot his body straight up and landed him flat on his back. “Fuck me,” he murmured as he rolled on the floor in pain.
Meanwhile back at the ranch, the Attorney General’s office was being lambasted by the alternative media for being a racist group of anti-white black-restitution revolutionaries that had only one mission and that was to attack the white majority. More details of the dropped charges against the New Black Panthers in Philadelphia were coming out of the resignation of a top attorney from Holder’s office and the shit was hitting the fan. Even though it put a lot of pressure on the AG’S office the payback felt good for the President and Eric as they continued to stick the racists’ knife into the side of white America.
Later that evening, the President ran down to the Oval Office to get the New Black Panthers case folder when in his bare feet, he stepped on a remaining porcelain sliver from his temper tantrum the other day. As he screamed with pain and fell to the floor grabbing his big toe the 517th day of the Obama Presidency throbbed on.
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