I’ve been reading a lot about this sentiment amongst late-night comedians, or anyone in the media, that it is impossible, or more importantly frowned upon, to make fun of Barack Obama. Pussies. I’ll rip him a new asshole. One without a metal rod firmly implanted it.
You just need a little bit of creativity. Like the fact he looks like he’s fifteen. I’m not even sure he’s got pubes. Have his balls dropped? He’s so fresh-faced he looks like an after picture for Proactiv.
And those ears. Holy hell. He could fly away on those things. He could probably hear a flag pin drop three blocks away. That’s why he’s always looking so far off into the distance. Because he’s hearing something we all can’t.
Not to mention the fact he hates America. The guy’s running for president and he can’t stand the country. There’s got to be a joke in there somewhere. An anti-American president. That’s funny.
What else? The fact that his wife once played middle-linebacker for the Bears. She’s built like a port-o-potty. She could destroy him. How emasculating is that? He’s like the gym-teacher’s husband. Am I the only one horribly afraid of her?
Not to mention his mother. Mama Obama. Or the family’s pet camelid. Llama Obama. Or his good friend Suddama Obama. Or his favorite vacation spot, Bahama Obama. Or even the movie due out about his life. The Obama docudrama.
Plus I heard he smells terrible. Just awful. And his breath is horrific. And he has a really small penis. And he’s a bad tipper. And he’s a total diarrhetic. Who doesn’t wipe after he poops. And I heard he farts under the covers and makes his campaign manager smell it. What a dick.
Impossible to make fun of. Please. Anyone that cocky can’t be hard to knock down. He’s got a shit-eating grin that makes him look like he went back for seconds. He’s as smug as a bug in a crumby rug. He looks like an arrogant Tayshaun Prince. Yup, Google that.
Impossible to make fun of. The guy weighs forty pounds. Look at him. He’s skinny as an epidermis. You can see right through him. A twig could break him. A stiff wind could blow him back to Indonesia. He’s got the muscles of an oyster. This is the guy you’re afraid to make fun of. Man up.
Impossible to make fun of. Fuck him. He’s going to be president. I don’t feel bad for the guy. Things are going all right. A little ribbing isn’t going to kill him. I’m not worried about hurting his feelings. He’s going to be the most powerful man in the world, in control of millions of lives with the push of a button, the commander in chief. Hopefully he can take some teasing.
What a bunch of wusses the media is; afraid to make fun of a presidential candidate. Isn’t that the whole point of running? So you can be fodder for late night programming. So you can be held up to ridicule on a daily basis. So all your foibles and follies can be picked and poked at until you become a simple, buffoonish caricature of yourself that no one feels bad ripping for the seven second laugh it generates from a crowd of tourists sitting under a sign clapping when they’re supposed to. I thought everyone ran with the intention of becoming a punch-line.
But apparently Obama is above the one-liner. Impossible to be mocked. Beyond the bounds of acceptable humor. Off-limits. Making fun of him is completely out of the question. Unattainable. Because, there is just absolutely nothing funny about him. Plus, he’s black.
