Thursday, December 12, 2013

Mister President, Let's Fight


Could you go without a telephone for six years? Spotty Internet for even longer? Seems my 56K modem never went that fast, and when a little antenna light lit on my 2006 model HP laptop, I tried that Wi-Fi “hot spot.” What I found was “Limited or No Connectivity” was the New Hampshire 2008 message, and then I discovered ic3.gov. My complaining produced more service continuity I’d love to have in Missouri, but first I’d like to have a fistfight with the President of the United States.

Secret Service, could you bring him? Got an I-Pod, prick? I don’t, and I don’t want one. Mr. Obama was never in the armed forces, and neither was I. Unless he attended a Chicago martial arts class, neither of us knows how to fight like that. What’s the fight about? I AM SICK OF BEING TORTURED IN THE USA, and for me, the borders are as closed as the Canadian owned bookstores by the same name. Yes, Republicans are obstinate, cold-hearted, bigoted fools. That we all know, but as for my Democrat party, my one word slur is “mafia.”

Buck their system, and they will watch you starve to death while making light of it among equally narcissistic neocons. Got an idea? Got a clue? Sorry, my e-mail does not work unless I am on the Internet. May I e-mail the president and let him know I’d like to kick his ass? To your surprise, exoburb yuppie liberal, many black folk might be in my corner on this bout, because they missed Professor Obama’s law lectures due to keeping busy on a streetcorner selling government-imported crack cocaine.

People, it’s been that way for a long time, and I’ve been this way since I chased away the drug-sniffing dogs from my Catholic high school in the 1970’s so we could excel in college, join the military, and succeed in business. Me? I got screwed bad. May I depart USA for the EU, or be allowed to punch Barack Obama in the jaw? I think the answer will be hashed-out with an AAA Travel Counselor. For the record, I used to be one, until I was dosed with amphetamines and told I had a mood disorder.


The president? He will be remembered for destroying his political party. Ditto for former governors Romney and Palin. What then? If I return in glory to put my face on a billboard, we can discuss it like adults. Forget Howard; if I’m related to Charles Evans Hughes and run for a public office, there will be no need to cheat. A duel instead of fists? Now you Feds are making sense!      

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