Archive for the ‘Obamaisms’ Category

We will have to make tough decisions about Defense spending, or even on programs that I like.
-Barack Obama

Emphasis mine.

After the tragedy at Ft. Hood and the Jug-Eared Jesus decided to spend two minutes on giving a shoutout to a guy in the audience (in which he erroneously attributed a Medal of Honor to the guy – deciding to not just rub salt in the wound, but used an Abrams tank to really grind it in there) and telling jokes instead of first acknowledging the fact that 13 of his charges were shot dead by some fundamentalist Muslim asshole screaming “Allahu Akbar” I knew the man didn’t care much about the men and women of the Armed Forces of which he is the Commander-in-Chief. I’m still livid about it, which I know some people don’t understand. I’ve been told it’s not personal so I should basically get over it. The person who told me to do that can go fuck himself because he doesn’t know shit about the relationship between the military and the Commander-in-Chief. But that’s neither here nor there at the moment since Barack the Magic Suit decided to top even that shining example of antipathy towards the troops the U.S. Constitution has placed in his care.

Now we’re confronted by a Freudian slip of epic magnitude regarding President “I Won” in which he would be hard-pressed to be more clear about his disdain for those in uniform. Hey, I can agree that the DoD could certainly stand to go to a few budgeting classes and do a complete overhaul of its financial system, but Christ on a cracker, acting like you’ll only consider cutting funding for your little pet programs if Congress takes a chainsaw to the defense budget makes it look an awful lot like you’re chomping at the bit to cut funding out from underneath the guy sitting in a foxhole.

Look, we get it: you hate the military’s collective guts. To anybody who’s been paying attention, that’s been apparent since before the nationwide case of temporary insanity that put you in the White House. But, at this point why not just unburden yourself and come right out and say exactly what you mean: People in uniform make you feel even ickier than anybody else in the nation (even the one’s who get down on their knees and worship you as their Lord and Savior) – who make you feel quite icky anyway. Hey, even after telling them you need a shower to wash their filth off of you, there will still be a large contingent of the asshat-wearing super-achievers who will have their lips superglued to your ass – and as a bonus, a few will actually add more superglue for that extra hold so they don’t end up in the shower drain. I’m not one of them but, then, when everybody lost their mind and decided to re-enact the ass-kissing scene from The 10th Kingdom (from about 9:05 on), I thought it would be more prudent to start an exciting new tradition: buying myself a gun every Christmas. Call me crazy, but I kind of like my Second Amendment rights and the delightful toys they mean I can possess. I certainly like them more than Dumbo’s smaller, more effeminate, mom-jeans wearing dumbass of a brother. Even better is that when I plunk down my hard-earned money for another liberal nightmare chambered in .40 S&W, I don’t have to worry about Sportsman’s Warehouse sending a cashier to my house to tell me they were just kidding, I didn’t actually get to keep what I paid for.


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