They'll love him in all those peculiar little countries where people wear hats that look like rat-traps and flavor their beer with the cocoons of nectar-sipping moths. They'll enjoy it when he forecloses on them, and maybe even ask for more. "Here, take our grandchildren's baby teeth, too!" I wish him and his beautiful family well in their new life as distinguished private citizens-of-the-world. I just hope Michele Bachmann and her probable running mate, Jesus, don't steal the next election. They'll rip out the Obamas' vegetable garden and put a Nascar track there so that all of Ms. Bachmann's 27 children can have jobs selling miniature bibles in the parking lot. ("Prayed over by qualified preachers twenty-four hours a day!")
Clusterfuck Nation
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