Politicians Just Wanna Have Fun

May 31

Condoleezza Rice Goes On A Blind Date Part 1

Condoleezza Rice was nervous, she sat down anxiously at the table, waiting for her date to arrive. She had no idea what he looked like, hence the “blind” aspect of the date, she only knew him as “JK.” What kind of name was that she wondered? Was this a joke? No, her friends wouldn’t play such a cruel and mean joke on her. Laura Bush assured her that he was a nice man and loved children. At any rate she hoped that at the very least he would be attractive, or have a job. Prospects were not looking so luminous ever since the end of her tenure with the Bush Administration. Once you’re out of office people tend to forget your name, sometimes Condoleezza would remind people who she was to anyone that would listen on the bus, but they wouldn’t pay her any mind. And if they did they would simply give her the finger or fart loudly in her general direction. It stung her so, but she was a fighter and would persevere.

The tea was getting cold and she was getting ever so hungry waiting for her date JK to arrive. “Where is that damn waiter?” Condoleezza said aloud to herself. “Excuse me, Garson!” She yelled trying to flag the waiter down, but he simply ignored her. Condi sat, arms crossed, wondering if this whole venture was even worth the effort and was about to leave until a tall, dark, and mustachioed man stood at her table.

“Miss Condoleezza Rice, I presume? I am Joseph Kony. But you make call me ‘JK.’” The mustachioed man said, as he extended his hand towards hers for a handshake.

“OH, uh- This is um… AWKWARD.” Condi barely breathed out the words, mouth still agape in shock.

Condi swallows a gulp, as she nonchalantly reaches into her purse looking for her cellphone.

End of Part 1

Dec 20

kimjongildroppingthebass:

dropped kim with tiësto

Kim Jong Illin’

(via munchausenish)

Dec 7

Obama buys weed from a young Kanye West

Barry walked through the entryway of his swanky downtown Chicago loft apartment and set his briefcase next to the counter and untied his stylish bow tie. Yes, a bow tie, because sometimes Barry likes to wear a bow tie when he gives lectures at the university. Fuck it, this is the 90’s and anything goes. Barry is an upwardly mobile young professional with a law degree from Harvard which means he does not give a single fuck. Not one. That’s why he goes by “Barry” and not “Barack” because his birth name just wasn’t swag enough. But even a man with that much swagger needs to unwind after a hard day’s work. He knew what he needed and he knew just exactly who to call. Barry pulled out his absurdly large cellphone- Hey, this was the 90’s after all. And got his good buddy Rahm on the line.

“Yo, Rahm I need you to hook it up with a dub of that stickiest of icky.” Barry said into the cartoonishly big receiver of the cell phone.

“Don’t worry man I got you covered. I’m sending my guy over there right now. Oh, and I got a new guy working for me. He’s a little young but don’t be alarmed, he’s sharp and on point. Very precocious.” Rahm said on the other line.

“Wait- What do you mean? How young are we talking?” Barry replied, a sense of uneasiness detectable in his voice.

“I said don’t worry about it. Hey, listen I got to go, I got Condi on the other line. I’ll catch you later man.” And Rahm hung up.

Barry just stood there with the phone still to his ear. The dial tone buzzing in his ear until he finally snaps out of it and hangs up the phone. Obviously still a little concerned about the possible age of Rahm’s new runner Barry decided to grab a glass of some of his aged Scotch in the cupboard. Perhaps he was overreacting, I mean Rahm wouldn’t do anything crazy like hire a 15 year old to deliver his weed would he? There was a knock at the door and it startles Barry a little bit, so much so that he spills a little bit of the Scotch on the wood flooring. Who could it be? It was much too early for Michelle to be home from work right now. Barry answers the door and much to his dismay there’s a young snappy dressed teenager at his doorstep.

“Rahm called, said you had a problem with some empty pipes?” Said the snappy young dresser.

That was code for, “I got your weed you ordered.” Barry was on the level he knew what was up, he was hip, he was down.

“Uh, yes come in.” Barry was still in disbelief. But invited the youngster in just the same.

The snazzy young dresser walked in and immediately made himself comfortable on the leather couch in the living room and set his backpack on the coffee table and pulled out a variety of large bags of weed.

“So what do you want man? I got everything you need. Grandaddy Kush, Hindu Kush, White Widow, AK-47…” Said the youth.

All of these strains of weed sounded so intimidating. Usually, Rahm just pre-selects the weed and sends the runner, but he didn’t this time. Must have been too busy.

“Um, whatever gets me high.” Said Barry.

“Haha, you funny man. I got just the weed for that, try this White Widow dude.” Exclaimed the youngster.

“What is your name kid? Shouldn’t you be in school?” Asked Barry, still unsure about the situation.

“My name? My name is Kanye West. I’m a rapper and a producer. One of these days I’m gonna be famous. So I don’t need to go to school. Fuck that. I got swag for days!” Said Kanye West.

Swag. Is that what the kids are saying these days? Barry was starting to fear he was losing touch with the youth. He sat down on the couch next to Kanye.

“Yeah, right kid and I’m gonna be president of the United States of America someday.” Barry scoffed.

“You laughing now but I’m telling you I’m gonna be famous. Swag.” Kanye said as he rolled the blunt.

Finally, he finished rolling the blunt and passed it to Barry.

“You get greens man.” Said Kanye.

Barry sparked up the blunt and French inhaled a long drag and held it. He exhaled.

“Swag.” Barry said to himself as he exhaled and passed the blunt to Kanye.

Dec 5

Sums the movement up pretty nicely actually.

Nov 9

“Dammit Nancy! How many times I gotta tell you, ‘hands where I can see ‘em!’” -Fmr. President George W. Bush and Fmr. Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi