WHERE’S THE FUCKING FLAG PIN?

October 5th, 2007

How dare Barack Obama insult erectile disfunctional , combed over America by taking the flag pin off his Brioni lapel? Doesn’t he know the flag pin means he’s more than just another disgusting political opportunist? With a flag pin through your pin-striped lapel, you’re a phony and disgusting political opportunist.

Obama’s picked up clues from his hip-hopping on the stump for the 08′ throwdown with The Hil. Ethanol rich mid-western millionaires stoned on corn revenues and futures soaring into the Sun, distrust those little tin badges of counterfeit courage much as they distrust the tiny little people in suits from the East Coast who want to get their hands dirty with fertile investment opportunities. Obama lost the jacket to his suit and went with just the Hermes’ choker and custom tailored Pink shirt once he sniffed the mood of the crowds amidst the manure wafting out of the Great Iowa Blow Job Blowout.Skilled hustlers such as Ob and The Hil recognize political opportunities much as the rest of us recognize the Moon. And though we’re slow to pick-up, the art of the hustle becomes clear once you peel your eyeballs of the HD saloons of modern media.

Now that OB is back in DC his manhandled Bar Harbour personna is in question because one of the dressers at Queer Eye forgot to re-attach the aforementioned Pin of Destiny. Its’ safer to fly around Washington half-cocked on Oxy’s than it is to wander the Boulevards of Power without The Pin. Imagine the assault on the sensibilities of Washington proper? How will America gag on our words if we choose not to wear The Pin? How will we reassure them that our wealthy corporate keepers have nothing to do with our decisions to vote on their behalf if we’re walking around jack-ass naked without The Pin?

Hopefully, weak sister media turds such as Wolf Blitzer will set Ob’s canoe right side up and we can move on to more important stifling bullshit. And OBama can be a patriot again while the rest of us get ready for the fork-lift full of arrogance and deceit that’s about to be dumped on top of our heads by the former dictator of New York, Rudy Guilinazi.

And if you want to know where The Hil wears The Pin, I suggest you look first at the clasp that holds the cups of her bra together. I’m not saying The Pin is there, but it’s better than looking into those cold, wonky eyes. Who knows? Holding a bra together in front with The Pin might bring the magic back into the ruthlessly sexless gaze of most of the candidates spouses. That is for all except The Hil’s squeeze. Bill doesn’t need The Pin. In his world, the bras in the Book of Bill all come off by themselves.

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