THE PRESIDENT: Good evening, my dear, close millionaire friends in Christ. As we all know, that election technicality thing may still be months away, but I see no reason to hold off on celebrating our inevitable God-ordained victory.

(Applause.)

That's why, as my exciting, year-long coronation begins, I wanted to take a moment out of my busy schedule of promising the moon to trucker hat wearing rabble in order to hobnob with you - my diamond cuff-linked, union-busting, mega-corporate compadres.

(Applause.)

You know, once upon a time, another President talked to Americans who were frightened by events that were not a direct result of his mismanagement of the Executive Branch. That President was the snobby cripple Franklin Milano Cookie Roosterbelt - the Darth Vader of Democrats who came up with the cockamamie idea that government had a responsibility to low-class trash, and not to the noble captains of industry who giveth and taketh away with near-divine responsibility.

Kinda like that guy, I too enjoy a nice fireside chat. But unlike President Gimpo, I'm not burning piles of tax dollars in a pork barrel furnace. No sir. Instead, I'm incinerating borrowed money that our grandchildren will one day be thrilled to pay back… not to mention a few pages from that annoying Bill of Rights thing.

(Applause.)

My dear ultra-affluent friends, I know that lately, some of you have had reason to question my servitude. Some of my recent actions might have left you thinking that I have deserted those of you who sobered me up, handed me a sweetheart career, and piggybacked me all the way to the Oval Office. Well, nothing could be further from the truth. I'm still with you, and I know that all of us selfish, corrupt, hate-addicted, Scripture-raping temple merchants with acorn-sized pricks, bloated manatee egos, and a twisted sense of aristocratic entitlement need to stick together!

(Applause.)

I'm told that some of you are displeased over my plan to give millions of illegal immigrants blanket amnesty and the ability to work in this county. Well fear not. I know that that idea is about as likely to get through Congress as Senator Santorum is to come out of the closet. But before the 14% of this country that's spicko-rican figure that out, they'll have voted me back into office. And what if science fiction happens and it becomes law? Well then, happy birthday - I've just given you a new slave class who are all tagged, marked, and ready to be Fed-Ex'ed to your newly legal sweatshops.

(Applause.)

And don't even get me started on the malt liquor food stamps I'm gonna roll out! Won't the Dummycraps be irked when we steal their precious darkie vote right out from under their pinched noses?

(Laughter.)

My dear financial supporters, when you hear that I helped Medicare become the largest single federal investment in a generation, you might think I've gone soft on bleeding the government of money and selling it piecemeal to private interests ruled by the bottom line instead of the will of the people. But what I'm really saying is that a few gazillion dollars of not-your-tax-money invested now will pay off big time tomorrow - so long as we keep our stock portfolios chock full of HMO's, Pharmaceuticals, and aggressively profitable Deathcare conglomerates. Anyway, the great thing about pretending to help out old people is that after you hoodwink them into voting for you, they usually die within a year or so of realizing how bad you're screwing 'em!

(Laughter.)

When you hear that planes are being diverted because of terrorism, that our city streets are being slowly transformed into Beirut, and that our Pavlovian terror alert system is breeding mass paranoia - it's not because we're any less safe. No, in fact everything is going exactly according to plan. Do you know why cattle prods were invented? To scare the shit out of cows so they won't balk when you march them onto the slaughterhouse conveyor belts. And with your help, we've gone and built the biggest damned cattle prod in the history of forever.

(Applause.)

And speaking of cows, when you hear our luscious beef industry is in danger of mad cow terrorism, what I'm saying is - don't worry about it, because only faggot cows get the AIDS. So it is with man, it is with beast, and I promise you that in the near future you will never have to fear a cheeseburger… or the site of committed, emotionally stable and financially secure semen gurlgers holding hands as lawfully wedded wife and wife.

When you hear that the war in Iraq isn't going well - even with Rummy's buddy Saddam, who was waging a one-man Chuck Norris-style guerilla campaign against our teenage mercenaries, in the clink - what you should know is this: the war in Syria, North Korea, and Pakistan is going to go the same way. What I'm saying is this… KFC makes money by frying chickens in vats of oil. We make money by frying the young in wars for oil.

Because in the long term, exporting American bullets is better than exporting American values - mainly because we have way more ammunition than actual values.

(Applause.)

During this election season, you're gonna hear me talk a lot about Compassionate Conservatism. When you hear that I care about the pain and struggles of all those condo-dwelling nobodies struggling in vain to pay off the credit card interest you're charging them, just remember while I may sound like Jesus, it's all just empty words. Because brothers, we may not mean it, but that shouldn't stop us from trying to out bleeding-heart the bleeding hearts.

Speaking of Jesus - I will never turn from His divine will, because luckily, His will is the same as mine. Religion isn't just an opiate - it's opt-in tyranny. We will help the people oppress themselves through guilt, syrupy notions of societal love, and the promise of an afterlife that's not unlike living in a New Haven mansion.

So, my friends, don't lose faith in your President. If you hear something that rankles your neo-conservative beliefs, take heart - I'm just saying what Karl tells me to. It's like swearing to your prom date you're gonna pull out. But once I'm back on the throne, I'm going to shoot my gunk like a bull elephant, jackhammering America's tender socio-economic womb until it's filled to the brim with glorious GOP seed!

(Applause.)

God bless you all! You few, you happy few, you band of Ivy League brothers I will never, ever leave behind!

(Applause.)

<< back

» E-MAIL THIS PAGE TO A FELLOW REPUBLICAN «

Store | Reader Mail | Disclaimer | Web Team ©2004 - WHITEHOUSE.ORG / Chickenhead Productions - All Rights Reserved Use of this website parody indicates your understanding and acceptance of the terms of service