Help Me Reach 12 on the Manly Scale of Absolute Gender

If you like the patriotic work we're doing, please consider donating a few dollars. We could use it. (if asked for my email, use "gen.jc.christian@gmail.com.")
Thanks!

Friday, August 21, 2009

Black people are doing wicked things in the White House

Hugh Hewitt
Truth Assembly Czar
Townhall.com

Dear Mr. Hewitt,

It's good to be reminded occasionally that Obama is black and, therefore, must be feared. That's why I enjoyed Kristen Atkinson's townhouse.com column about voodoo in the White House (for some strange reason the column disappeared but can be read here) so much. The letter she wrote to those wicked snarkmongers at Wonkette wasn't bad either.

I learned a lot from both. For instance, I didn't know that Michelle Obama's mother practiced voodoo right there in the East Wing. Now, I guess we now know what's going to happened to those turkeys he pardons next Thanksgiving. Mrs. Robinson is going bite their heads off and use the blood to increase Sarah Palin's IQ to a level that will be unacceptable to the GOP base. We might as well forget about 2012.

I'm more acquainted with your blogger's other claims, but it's still good to be reminded of them in print like this:
Do you really, truly, seriously think it is OK for a president to use a forged birth certificate? Do you actually believe it is appropriate for a man who was raised a Muslim to pretend he is a Christian and go to a church for 20 years with an anti-American preacher? Do you really want a president who was brainwashed by communists since he was a child, up through university, to hate America to be our president? Do you think that it is fine if a family member of the president defiles the White House with voodoo? Don’t you know what fate could befall our nation as a result of allowing Satanic forces to gather over the White House?

After 8 years of a president sent by God to lead the American people and rescue us from the horrors of 911 and Islamo-fascists, it now boils down to this?
But your columnist missed some of the worst practices taking place in the White House. Are you unaware of the "rain room" they have there, next to the presidential bedroom? I'm told all sorts of strange rituals--unthinkably perverse acts that would have been inconceivable to previous Republican residents of "the People's House"--occur there.

Like skyclad witches at a demon summoning, the Obama's enter the room unclothed, floppy bits jiggling to the cadence of their excited steps. Once inside, the president manipulates a series of strange levers protruding from a wall and a warm, but artificial and magical, rain begins to fall. It's as if God, upset at the depravity that is about to come, is weeping angry tears of damnation upon them.

The President then begins a silent incantation, running his hands, fingers, tongue and lips across the First Lady's body, seeking out her secret holy places and defiling them with the same slow but eager passion real Americans might apply to caressing the triggers of their assault rifles.

The First Lady reciprocates with her own series of silent invocations, focusing on the source of our greatest fears, his long dark seductive shaft of connubial potency, until it raises it shadowy head in that certain way that invariably sends terrified Southern Baptists screaming into town halls.

Then, as the First Lady leans her back to the wall, the President takes hold of her seat of demonic power and eagerly lifts her into a position that will allow him to pierce her with his Terrible Throbbing Spear of The Marxian Dialectic, driving his proletarian mass deep into her bourgeoisie, over and over again as she repeatedly screams our Lord's holy name in the most blasphemous manner possible.

Finally, as the President's rounds his lips like some maniacal mackerel, his body explodes in a mighty shudder and he breathlessly pants the words, "Oh yeah."

And God's hot tears of righteous hatred seem to rain even harder down upon them.

Heterosexually yours,

Gen. JC Christian, patriot

A helmet tip to Mr von Ebers

29 comments:

  1. When I was a young boy my mother told me there were rides I should not go on until I was ready. I thought I was ready tonight, but have been disabused of that notion, seeing as how I have been summarily dashed upon the suggestive rocks of Executive Lovin'. 'O righteous God & Goddess! 'O heralds of the Orgasmic Dawn! In abstractions of the mind the words above have dipsy-doodled me into a fit of shuddering spectatorship that will not abate! Save me, Lord of Descriptive Wonders! Save me! A Kleenex,please someone have pity and bring me tissue! My kingdom for some Kleenex!

    Note to self: do not tell ma about this one.

    ++++

    ReplyDelete
  2. Some earplugs, mjs! You sound like our hero, Ulysses between Scylla and Charybdis. Let me know if you need any help

    ReplyDelete
  3. Does anyone have a cigarette?

    ReplyDelete
  4. American Spirit ok, Rev?

    ReplyDelete
  5. Shudder! The only thing that could make it worse is if there was a white woman involved. I mean, in The First Lady's place, not in addition to. I'm not some kind of pervert who would think about things like that. The thought of Hillary in the middle of that scene never entered my mind.

    ReplyDelete
  6. damn that was hot
    i had to read that 3 times LOL
    you have a career
    in Gothic Romance Novels

    ReplyDelete
  7. General, Sir:

    I wish that had been in installments. I had to stop and come back, I mean return, twice.

    I am currently designing my rain room and you've given me a novel idea. I think I will put both it and the "make the icky go away machine" in the same place--and both of them INDOORS!!

    ReplyDelete
  8. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

    ReplyDelete
  9. It's worse than that, General, sir. I've heard that IN THAT VERY SAME ROOM lies kind of voodoo/satanic throne, constructed of a mysterious gleaming-white substance not found in nature. There, the Obamas (I call them "the Soeteros") create horrible, unspeakable things. Then, with the merest flick of a lever, they send them out into the world, where good Americans like you and I live!

    And, like Kristen Atkinson, the media just LAUGH at me when I tell them about it. "YOU'RE IN THE TANK!" I scream at them, but somehow that just makes them laugh harder.

    ReplyDelete
  10. General, as always, thanks for the props.

    Of course, the Wonkette gots nothin’ on the General … but that post over there by that Wonkette where they reprinted Kristen Atkinson’s e-mail and, uh, held it up to ridicule ’n everything, that post was worth its weight in gold. If, you know, a post on the internet, like, weighed anything.

    ReplyDelete
  11. By the way, General, I’m thinking you could write a sequel to Mandingo.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Counsellor von Ebers:

    As you are undoubtedly unaware (and aren't you MY frikkin' lawyer for fucksake?) of it, I will merely issue a warning in this instance.

    All mention (or even thought) about the whole M-------o" thing is prohibited. I have been trying to work out a develpment deal with Jason Apuzzo for "ObaMandingo--The Movie" ever since November. Do you read any of the memos I send you? Wait, don't answer that question!

    ReplyDelete
  13. Memos? I thought those were betting slips.

    By the way, where’s my 50 grand for correctly picking Brett-Favre-goes-to-the-Vikings in the Tired Old Man Way Past His Prime Sweepstakes?

    ReplyDelete
  14. Dude, that's even worse than thinking about my parents fucking.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Your parents never fucked. You were adopted. Sorry to break it to you that way, but I only did it to make you feel better.

    ReplyDelete
  16. This has taken a nasty turn, what with the parents fucking (or not) and all.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Come on, parents! Get in there and start fucking or somebody's gonna get really mad!

    ++++

    ReplyDelete
  18. I beg you, please, please, please stop talking about 'rental boinking for the love of all that's holy--ummm, unless they're milfs and really hot, young guys or old, old dudes (even older than me) and really, really hot young cheerleaders--uhhh, I'll be back.

    ReplyDelete
  19. When I woke up
    Mom and dad were rollin’ on the couch
    Rolling numbers, rock ’n rolling
    Got my Kiss records out …

    Oh, my God. Another ’70’s flashback. I hate it when that happens.

    ReplyDelete
  20. I wonder if any potheads still call joints "numbers"?

    ReplyDelete
  21. I thought "Numb3rs" was a TV show where wonky detectives use math to solve murders. It's even on the telly down here. Mrs. Bukko likes it, but I'm with that talking Barbie who said "Math is hard!" I had too many numbers in high school.

    ReplyDelete
  22. bukko, as a fellow aussie, we must go with the righteous flow. All this is designed to bring us closer to the rapture, either that or ughh boots, sometimes it gets confusing.

    ReplyDelete
  23. I'm worried about Teh Rapture. Here on the upside-down part of the planet, do you suppose we'll be pulled the wrong way, like to the Hot Place? Or maybe Jeebus is going to drag us through the entire bulk of the Earth to get to where all the Godly White Americans (and maybe a few Poms) are transported. That would also be a heated experience.

    Although when I contemplate the things I've done in my life, I suppose Rapturation won't be an issue for me...

    ReplyDelete
  24. Bukko in Australia:

    I will never get raptured, I wear a truss.

    ReplyDelete
  25. If you just truss in Jeebus, you might still have a chance.

    ReplyDelete
  26. How do you know anything about what the Oboma's are doing in the white house? I will answer for you, you don't! Get over it, yes we have a black man in the white house, and there is not a dam thing that you can do about it.

    ReplyDelete
  27. i am sure that my comments will not be posted because you are a jackass.

    ReplyDelete

We'll try dumping haloscan and see how it works.