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Oh no! The race war started without us!

October 14, 2008

I like the fact that I can buy a Barack Obama Halloween mask.

I like this because it allows me to scare the living shit out of Sean and Lucia Wheatley.

I sneak into their house at night and stand at the foot of their bed. Then I fire my gun into the ceiling to get their undivided attention.

“I am super secret Arab Marxist Barack Obama!” I yell from underneath my Obama mask. “And I when I become President I will make abortions mandatory and invite terrorists to destroy our national landmarks and mate with our women! And then I will send the S1W’s from Public Enemy to round up all you white sons of bitches into honkey concentration camps for Soul Train reeducation! And there’s nothing you can do to stop me! Mwahahahaha!!!”

At this point Sean and Lucia start screaming like the Dread Pirate Roberts was coming for their souls. The only thing left to do then is drop the smoke balls, jump out the window, and go home to plan the next night’s frightful festivities. Perhaps tomorrow I show up dressed as Hillary Clinton and I threaten to castrate Sean with a pair of bolt cutters, and then threaten to marry Lucia to a lesbian who looks like Noel Gallagher from Oasis.

And why would I do these things? Because I’m frickin’ bored. If I had a girlfriend I wouldn’t have the time for such things. Then again, if I had a really good girlfriend, she’d be right there at my side wearing a Nancy Pelosi mask and telling the Wheatleys that all their children will be mandated by Congress to be Wiccan homosexuals. Oh, how Sean and Lucia will shriek…

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5 comments

  1. Okay, so I’m on coffee break, and surfing from one link to the next (as you do) before I hit it here and… nearly ended up with coffee down my chin, laughing!

    Thanks!


  2. And thank you for finding us. We always love new blood here at Renal Failure.


  3. I reckon thats exactly the use they had in mind when they made that mask


  4. i’ll be your girlfriend if that’s the sort of date you’ll take me on


  5. I’ll play, but I wanna be Barb Mikulski, because she’s got those scary, wrinkly tiny tiny hands.



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