Caption contest!
THE WINNERS
Such as they are.
3. You Are About To Be Bamaboozled.
2. “No, No, THIS is how I want you to catch my farts”
1. Obamagirl! Are those for me??? Are they real???
Caption contest!
THE WINNERS
Such as they are.
3. You Are About To Be Bamaboozled.
2. “No, No, THIS is how I want you to catch my farts”
1. Obamagirl! Are those for me??? Are they real???
There like putty in my hands
I am Rasputin… yes down there too…
Fall under my spell my little Tsarinas….
Mmwwuuhahaaha!
Kiss my ring!
You are getting sleepy……You will do my bidding……..you will believe everything I tell you…..
“Don’t go into the light, Carol-Anne!”
http://www.tanklab.com/pretty/thrillerpalp.gif
An important senator is hit by a truck and dies on the street. He arrives at the pearly gates and is greeted by St. Peter.
“Well,” says St. Peter, “we seldom see a member of Congress up here, and we’ve decided that you must spend one day in hell and one in heaven and then choose where to spend eternity.”
And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator to hell. When the doors open below, he finds himself on a cool, green golf course. (It looks a lot like St. Andrews in Scotland.) His friends and old colleagues greet him with warmth and bonhomie, eager to reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at taxpayer expense and fattening their pet pigs. After a round of golf and a massage, they dine on lobster, caviar and champagne. Satan turns out to be a very friendly fellow, with laughter and jokes.
Soon the 24 hours pass and the senator returns to heaven, where he spends another amiable 24 hours, playing the harp, floating from cloud to cloud, admiring angels who look a lot like Marilyn Monroe, singing all the many verses of “Amazing Grace,” and enjoying the pleasures of discipline and restraint. St. Peter finally tells him it’s time to choose.
“Well,” the senator says, “heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell. They’re my kind of people.”
St. Peter escorts him to the elevator for his final descent into hell. When the doors open this time, he finds himself in a barren land of waste, rubble and garbage. His friends, in rags, are picking up garbage, stuffing it into ever bigger bags as rubbish continually falls from above.
“I don’t understand,” the frightened senator stammers. “Yesterday there was a golf course, a clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar and drank champagne at restaurants that looked a lot like the Palm and Charlie Palmer’s, and had a high old time. Now there’s nothing but garbage and my friends look miserable.”
“Ah,” says Satan, “yesterday we were campaigning. Today, you voted.”
Did I mention “change”?
See it in my hands, don’t you?
Put the whole world in my hands!
gimme that crown! i’ll be good – i promise.
You Are About To Be Bamaboozled.
Walk to the light, mere mortal.
So Rezko grabs me by the face and says “Bammy, there will be a time that I call upon you for a favour”
“Pull my fingers”
“Avada Kedavra!”
Aw, c’mon. Do I look like a liar?
Whatever you hear me say about NAFTA, you must remember this…
It’s only rhetoric… it’s only rhetoric… it’s only rhetoric…
“Stand and deliver!”
You are getting sleepy, soon you will vote for me. Sleepy, vote for me….
“Welcome to my utopian liberal world view”
When this is all over, imagine that I have Bill’s head in my hands and I’m going too……….
Nah, your all wrong. It’s time for some b ball baby….
“That’s right, just throw me the keys…”
I put my hands around your neck and you wrap your arms around me.
My previous line of course should have been the song line:
‘I’ve got the whole world in my hands’.
“It’s easy, when hold the elephant by its left nut, just like this…”
“No, No, THIS is how I want you to catch my farts”
Hey you sweet thing you….. come with me to the back of the plane and join the “mile high” club.
“Okay okay, kay, mkay…
Pass her back! Pass her back!
My turn… gimmie the bong!”
Behold my invisible rays of “yes we can”!!!
“HEAL!!”
Not enough Baptists in the house, obviously.
“Farrakhan? Dude is that you???? C’mere and give a brother some love!”
Come on now. Don’t be selfish. Pass the KOOLAID around to everyone.
“Calm down and just throw me your wallets”
“I hold in my hands, my accomplishments to date”
(Everybody singing) “He’s got the whole world in his hands…”
HEAL!!”
Not enough Baptists in the house, obviously.
Healing is so passe. I think he is about to create hope out of thin air. Or else he is imagining running his hands through all that change that is coming his way.
I saw in the night visions, and, behold, one like the Son of man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient of days, and they brought him near before him.
I`ve got balls this big!
Catching the invisible football, Obama prepares to race for an imaginary goal.
Catching the invisible football, Obama prepares to race for an imaginary goal.
See if you take the truth and twist it just a little like this…
I gotcha now, Hillary.
I got her by the balls! He, he, he.
Unite comrades-yes, yes, yes I can – make you all into yes men. Gimme the power and I’ll make you CHANGE.
Throw me the ball! I’m open!
Nothing up my sleeves, same as in my head!
Come. Come. I will lead you to lotus land. Come. Come
1. “Welcome to Fantasy Island!”
2. Obama proudly displays his policy document.
3. “Votes! Votes! Yummy human votes!” (from the new horror/thriller “Presidency of the Living Dead”)
I’m talkin bout “change” where a nickel will be this big brother!