The year 2010 was ugly. Like waking up in bed with a hangover next to a naked Barney Frank in a Michelle Obama mask ugly! For me, it started out with a swift kick to the bait and tackle when my supervisor, Eeyore (as he was nicknamed), called me to the conference room and proceeded to tell me that The Company was heading in a new direction and my services would no longer be needed. However, the written notice of my termination said the reason was “due to ongoing inadequate performance over a long period of time.” I don’t know what Eeyore’s donkey chow-eating ass considers “inadequate” or “long period of time,” but I was only written up once in October 2009 for leaving several tickets in a queue untouched for a day or two. Three months does not a “long period of time” make, especially since I was employed with The Company for more than five and a half years. It wasn’t normal practice for me to ignore tickets either, but the migration of an archaic web server broke many company-provided cgi scripts, and it was my job to fix them… on top of my normal load of handling four separate ticket queues by myself. Whatever.

I went back to my office, packed up all my office flair, and grabbed LDriver to head home. Just like dealing with a family death, there are stages of grieving when you lose a job. I think I was done with denial by the end of the first day. Anger ended and acceptance began at sunrise the following day when I realized I didn’t have to make that soul-crushing commute to Seattle ever again. Of course, depression started when living on unemployment (a.k.a. “unenjoyment”) and finding a new job closer to home became more and more difficult. It was enough to make me enter a seldom-expressed stage of grieving: revenge!

On the world stage, a giant earthquake leveled parts of Haiti in January. It was the third deadliest earthquake of all time, and it was rumored to be caused by a runaway Prius. This led Toyota to recall over 8 million vehicles for several reasons, including magical pedal-pushing floor mats, sticky accelerators, an anti-lock braking virus, as well as general smugness and/or ugliness.

February brought a Super Bowl win to the Saints who beat the Colts. While Peyton Manning cried, Saints fans celebrated the best thing to happen to New Orleans since Hurricane Katrina. February was also the start of the 2010 Winter Olympic Games in Vancouver, BC. Being only 100 miles away from Oak Harbor, I really wanted to at least visit Vancouver, but my jobless situation prevented discretionary spending. One positive in not having a job is I could watch as much Olympic coverage as possible on NBC. In further sports news, Tiger Woods gave a televised apology for his infidelities. This made everyone’s jaw drop to the floor simultaneously, causing another giant earthquake, this time in Chile.

In March, I was fully on the job search hamster wheel, rewriting résumés and cover letters, scouring the State’s WorkSource site as well as other online job listings. In Washington, you have to make three job search contacts each week — and keep a contact log — in order to receive your weekly pittance. With a fair amount of free time on my hands, coupled with the occasional trips to the WorkSource office or job interviews, I had plenty of opportunities to go shooting with my camera. I took many photos during my jobless time, and I dumped nearly all of my shots on Flickr, and created a new blog at photography.wafwot.com. It’s a better way to spend a day than watching Bewitched and All in the Family reruns, or FOX News which was covering the Obamacare politics pretty heavily in March.

Princess Pelosi is infamous for saying crazy fucking shit, but her comments about Obamacare to the National Association of Counties stating “we have to pass the bill so that you can find out what is in it, away from the fog of the controversy,” ranks up there as the stupidest things ever said by a human being, let alone a politician. Clearly the Botox in her Liberal face has poisoned her mosquito-sized brain. Seriously, Pelosi’s “pass the bill so that you can find out what is in it” remark makes Jessica Simpson’s Chicken of the Sea comments sound genius! Of course, by the end of March, King Obama signed the bill into law even though the majority of Americans didn’t want it. Out like a lamb, my fat white ass.

April saw yet another giant earthquake, this time in China. The Earth must have been mad at humanity in 2010, because a volcano under Eyjafjallajökull (which is Icelandic for “how the fuck do I say that?“) erupted, grounding planes throughout most of Europe. Not to be outdone in the shock and awe department, the BP Deepwater Horizon oil rig exploded in the Gulf of Mexico, sending thousands of gallons of crude oil per hour into the ocean. BP initially lied about the severity of the spill; they’re British, they had to scale it down a bit. April also saw Apple’s release of the iPad, basically an expensive iPhone for people with giant hands, but without phone service. In Arizona, lawmakers passed SB 1070, which made being of Mexican descent illegal. Cops were instructed to start rounding up wetbacks and throwing them into concentration camps for extermination in August… so said MSNBC. White power, motherfuckers!

After three months of job searching, it was time for a change. Family genetics left me with a head of gray hair, and no one wants to hire an old fat-ass. So, while watching the 2010 Stanley Cup playoffs, I started applying Grecian Formula to my giant old man head. It took a few weeks to see my hair changing a nice shade of graphite, like I was rubbing pencil sharpener shavings on my scalp. And my head smelled like a book of burnt matches. Clearly this wasn’t working. So, I gave Tina my berries and went to the Wal-Mart for a box of women’s hair dye. Good God, what a scary ordeal that was! After leaving that color on my head for a twenty minutes, I looked like Ronald Reagan in 1981… but with less wrinkles. To me, I looked ridiculous. Good thing I have hats.

Overly concerned about the continuing flow of oil into the Gulf, our Supreme Overlord made a couple trips to Louisiana in May for some photo ops. The media was plastered with video showing Obama standing on the beach — surrounded by black globs of oil — staring benevolently out at the water. It was the least he could do between rounds of golf. Meanwhile, Congress held hearings about the spill, and suggested we melt down defective Toyotas and fashion a giant drain stopper. When the giant the giant bathtub plug was shot down, Congress decided to outlaw deep sea drilling. The way the Administration was acting, you’d have thought the Gulf crude was leaking into their morning bowl of Wheaties.

By June, I was about fed up with with the job search rut. I had interviews at several companies in Skagit County, and all but one said “no,” and that one didn’t say “no” wasn’t saying anything yet. Frustration and depression were setting in quickly, especially when the Flyers lost the Stanley Cup finals to Drunken Queef and the Chicago Blackcocks.

One position I applied for was for a network administrator at a local casino. I won’t say which casino, but it rhymes with “two day shit” if you say it real fast and put the emphasis on “day.” Their application wanted more personal information than a new car loan, which started me (and Tina) on a 10-day scavenger hunt. Things like driver’s license and Social Security number were easy. But they also wanted a copy of my criminal record, driving record, and high school diploma. High school diploma? Sweet baby Jesus, it’s been a quarter century since I’ve seen that! After turning the house upside down in a fruitless search, I called the school for a copy. They told me a replacement diploma would cost $25 and take a couple weeks. Just as I was about to give up, Tina finally found my diploma — the last item I needed — in the very last possible place it could have been. I spent several days polishing the turd that is my curriculum vitae, then emailed my application to a friend that worked at the casino. He printed the app and all the supporting documents and submitted it for me. After several weeks, I got a phone call for a job interview. My Ronald Reagan hair and I drove the 70 miles to Marysville for the interview, which was a bit ambiguous. You know how there’s more than one way to do things in much of life? It’s not any different in the IT world. Several of their questions could have had more than one answer and still be correct. However, you if you didn’t have their answer, it counted against you. I thought I did well, but found out that no one answered their interview questions correctly. This told them their questions were flawed, and they subsequently withdrew the position. Excellent.

I continued the three weekly job contacts into July, living my own personal Groundhog Day. The BP spill was still spewing oil into the Gulf. However, BP was finally able to stem the flow with something they called “LMRP,” which I think is a British acronym for Lick My Royal Posterior. With the well capped, America could now focus it’s full attention on more important things, like LeBron James‘ eeny, meeny, miny, moe game of where to play basketball, Lindsay Lohan‘s 14-day jail sentence, and the excitement of World Cup Soccer (yaaawwwn). I was still using my huge amounts of free time to take photos around Island and Skagit counties, until I got a phone call from that one company that hadn’t said no. It was nearly two months since I interviewed with them, and had written it off as another failure. But when they offered me the job over the phone, I gladly accepted without hesitation! I was happy to be employed again, but sickened by the fact that I had just helped Obama lower his jobless percentage.

August was a good month; I had a reason to wake up in the morning. I was hired as the IT Manager of an aerospace company. It sounded pretty cool until I realized it’s a start up company that hasn’t built a plane yet. They’re setting up the fabrication facility using the assets of a company they bought out of bankruptcy, and they didn’t even have an IT department yet. So, I am the manager of one (me), but it’s my job to build the IT department, and I like that idea a lot. With my second paycheck, I went to the local Sprint store and bought the EVO 4G. I had it rooted within four days of owning it.

Also in August, the East Coast was attacked by giant bedbugs which prompted NASA to extend the Space Shuttle program in order to plan an attack of planet Klendathu. Up in the panhandle of Florida, the Messiah and his family vacationed in Panama City on the Gulf Coast as a publicity stunt showing the waters were safe. To maintain his “first black president” hue, he went swimming with the crude oil globules. Unfortunately, the Gulf was oilier when Barry got out of the water, so the First Family finished their vacation in Martha’s Vineyard by playing golf and shopping. Obama also put a another woman on the Supreme Court, and Planet Blago was downgraded to Douchebag Blago.

By September, the midterm elections were coming to a head. Balack Osama and his Congress were about as popular as a hooker with cold sores, and they knew it. When they began campaigning in their home districts, they didn’t talk about Obamacare, they talked about being a witch or worshipping Aqua Buddha. In the entertainment industry, Tony Curtis died, the tragic victim of a runaway Toyota.

October was uneventful for me. I was living the dream with a full time job, and enjoying the work. I designed a logo for the company and built them a simple beginner web site for an Internet presence. At the company’s main offices, I was building new cubicles and computer systems for a contingent of Chinese engineers on work visas. I was also supervising new Cat 6 cable runs at the airport facility, built a Linux router/firewall, and deployed a new Asterisk phone system.

Elsewhere in the world, yet another earthquake off the coast of Sumatra killed over 400 people, terrorists in Yemen tried sending printer toner bombs to the U.S. via UPS, and a gaggle of Chilean miners trapped in a mine for 69 days were rescued with a giant mechanical tampon applicator. A bright spot was the news that the International Space Station surpassed the record for the longest continuous human occupation of space, unless you count John Dingell‘s white ass planted in his House seat for more than 55 years. What the hell kind of name is “Dingell” anyway? Sounds like a piece of shit stuck to the hairs of his mudcutter.

In November, I was invited to watch the Manny Pacquiao vs. Antonio Margarito fight on pay-per-view at my boss’ house. He had a $150 in bets against Pacquiao with a couple people at work. Needless to say, Pacquiao beat Margarito like a Mexican piñata, and broke his right orbital bone. Ouch. My boss paid his bet in $1 bills. Awesome.

Also in November, the Democrats were beaten like Margarito by the Republicans in the 2010 midterm elections. The jackasses lost the House majority, several Senate seats, some governorships, some state legislatures, and Dancing With the Stars. It was the biggest game of musical chairs since 1948, and the largest for any midterm election since 1938. If you listen very carefully, you can still hear Princess Pelosi crying in her Zinfandel.

Three days before Thanksgiving, it snowed in Western Washington, and everyone dropped a rectal plate. I was a little worried about the accumulating snow. Not because I can’t drive in bad weather, but because other people are complete retards when the pavement is anything but dry. When I left work, I put my truck in 4×4 low and headed out, adjusting my speed for the road conditions. Fifteen miles from home, got stuck in a long line of traffic. There was apparently an accident in Deception Pass that blocked the entire highway and snarled traffic for hours. A trip that normally takes me 40 minutes took ten minutes shy of 4 hours. Told you they were retards.

Then, while millions of Americans were cooking their junk at the airports in full body scanners, Tina and I went to Thanksgiving dinner at my boss’ house. The night before Thanksgiving it snowed again, but it was no trouble for my truck. We arrived right on time, had a great meal and enjoyed the visit. The very next day, Obama was punched in the mouth by a Latino man angry that the Administration was allowing Arizona to gas beaners. The resulting cut to King Hussein’s upper lip required 12 stitches.

December saw a federal judge in Virginia rule that Obamacare is unconstitutional. In response, the Justice Department said, “Nuh uh!” The 2010 Census numbers were released in December, showing that the U.S. population grew 9.7% to 308,745,538, the smallest increase since the 1930s. Was it a coincidence that the unemployment rate was 9.8% and the population increased 9.7%? The world may never know. In response howerver, Joe Biden said, “These new motherfuckers need to get a job to help America’s recovery.” Elsewhere, Obama dropped to his knees and blew the Republicans in order to hammer out and sign the GOP tax compromise bill, then repealed don’t ask, don’t tell to the delight of butt pirates everywhere. Hmmmm.

At work, the company sprung for a Christmas meal for all employees. The food was catered by Haggen Food in Burlington, but needed to be heated before serving. Not having a stove at the office, my boss planned on having his wife heat the food at his house which was only about a mile away. I asked why we just didn’t heat the food in the oven, and was told we don’t have an oven at the office. “Um, the hell we don’t. We have a 55-foot curing oven,” which I often refer to as the Jew Cooker. Needless to say, our Christmas meal was cooked in the Jew Cooker. Here’s a crappy cellphone picture.

And that about covers it. There was lots more that happened in 2010, but this is all I can muster in my glossed over Reader’s Digest edition. I, for one, am glad to see 2010 in history’s rear view mirror. Let’s hope 2011 is better for me and our troubled country. Peace, bitches.

The Obama Health Care Plan is comprised of two parts. The first part Obamacare was buried in the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 (a.k.a. ARRA, a.k.a. the $787,000 million Stimulus Bill) which has already been signed into law by President B. Hussein Obama in February. The second part of Obamacare (H.R. 3200) is currently being debated in Congress and town halls across America. I’m sure you’ve all heard liberals who support H.R. 3200 say that there won’t be any rationing of health care or “death panels.” Even the President himself said, “Great Britain has a system of socialized medicine. Nobody is talking about doing that.” They’re fucking liars. Every one of them. As far as I can tell, rationing of health care will be done through a Council, equivalent to the National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence (NICE) of the British National Health Service. The name given to this panel is The Federal Coordinating Council For Comparative Effectiveness Research, or the “Council,” and has already been funded with $1,100 million (a big numbers way of saying $1.1 billion, with a ‘B’) from the Porkulus Bill. Here’s an official link introducing us to the grand gaggle of douchebags that make up the Death Panel, err, I mean the “Council.” It’s these motherfuckers that will use some super-secret government “formula of approval or rejection of treatment for patients based upon the cost per treatment divided by the number of years the patient will benefit from the treatment.” There’s far too much bullshit to cover here in my blog. I’d look like this typing pages and pages and pages and pages.

Is there any wonder why people are starting to oppose Obamacare in droves? When Americans started reading then opposing this polished turd, they started confronting the politicians at their town hall meetings, if they didn’t cowardly cancel their town hall meetings for fear of opposition. The Bill contains provisions that the sick, elderly, and disabled members of society could face the prospect of government bureaucrats determining whether they deserve health care. Of course, this brought old people out of Country Buffet and into the town halls. Suddenly, dissenters were being called all sorts of horrible things by the very people they elected! Stench trench of the House, Nancy Pelosi referred to honest, hard-working Americans who, in her eyes, are “drowning out opposing views” of Obamacare as “simply un-American,” “astroturf,” and said they were bringing swastikas into town hall meetings. Hey Nancy, I think demonstrating against issues we don’t agree with to be very American, indeed! It’s our First Amendment right to freedom of speech, so shut the fuck up!

Even in my own home state, Democrat Representative Brian Baird said the opposing behaviors of town hall members “was reminiscent of the kinds of things that drove Timothy McVeigh to bomb the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City…” Holy fuckballs! Really? I personally oppose Barry‘s health care reform plans. Does that make me a mass-murdering truck bomber? I don’t think so. When did it become un-American to stand up and oppose something you feel is wrong? Why does the pro-health care reform camp feel the need to call you names just because you don’t agree with them?

Back in November, just after the messiah won the election, I wrote in my blog that “many feel we’ve turned a corner on racism in the country by electing Obama, [but] I have a sinking feeling that we’ve begun a new chapter that will only widen the rift.” Unfortunately, I was right. The liberal left Kool-Aid drinkers have taken to calling ANYONE — not just white Republicans — who dares oppose King Hussein, a “racist.” Somehow, calling Obamacare a socialist plan is code words for “racism.” Attending a Tea Party protest makes you a “functionally retarded adult,” a “teabagger,” and a “racist.” I got news for you, Jeanane Garofalo, you puss-infected regurgitated cum bubble, opposing Obama’s policies has nothing — absolutely NOTHING — to do with his skin color. I don’t give two juicy squirts of goat shit if he’s black, white, Latino, Asian, or fucking purple. I don’t like the idea of a government-run health plan, insurance reform, co-op, or whatever the hell they’re calling it this day. Laissez-faire, morbleu! Laissez-faire!!

I’ve even had first-hand experience with this far left propaganda bullshit. A friend of mine on Facebook (who I’ll call “Liz”) pasted some anti-H.R. 3200 material from someone’s blog on her wall and pleaded that politicians read the bill before passing it. This lead to one of the people on her friends list to deride her for her opinions. I won’t use his real name; instead I’ll call him “Barney” (after a certain Massachusetts Representative, and the fact he really likes Fruity Pebbles, if you get my drift). “Barney” started by saying Liz “should turn off Fox News and read the entire document for [herself].” He said he was disappointed with her and remembered her being more independent.” What the hell?

I sarcastically fired back at this ass pirate in defense of “Liz,” saying she should stop watching FNC and start watching the socialist propaganda that the White House and NBC want us to believe. I made fun of the evil Glenn Beck and the un-American Fox News, and suggested that “Barney” read the bill himself. I told him to get off his elitist high-horse, stop looking down his nose at people with different points of view, and stop infringing upon “Liz’s” Constitutional right to watch and say whatever the hell she wants.

This is when the name calling started. “Barney’s” response was he had no problem with “Liz” expressing her opinion (which obviously he did), but didn’t want her “spewing the untruths that the racist-backwards-religious nutjob-rednecks of the country keep yealing,” [sic] then proceeded to say she didn’t seem too bright. Wow! Way to debate the issue, you ingrown sphincter hair! “Barney” continued by schooling me on my elitist comment, saying, “an elitist would want something only for themselves (healthcare for only a few), not everybody (universal and affordable coverage).” He obviously feels that the Goverment should just provide almost-free health care for all, and let our future generations pay the bill. Dickhead. “Barney” then insulted my intelligence level and told me to “go run a minority out of town before NASCAR comes on and leave the policies of the country to the adults.” Jesus, speaking of regurgitated cum bubbles. This guy’s a 55-gallon drum full of them! Suddenly I’m a racist for opposing Obamacare and defending “Liz’s” right to oppose the same? Unbelievable.

Again, I replied, being very cautious not to call him any names. However, I did call him a “typical member of the left cult, happily drinking [his] Obama fruit drink,” an indirect slam on his sexuality, which he was obviously too goddamn stupid (or drunk) to pick up on. I continued by telling him to watch and read news sources from both the liberal and conservative sides and form his own opinions based on truths, instead of insulting people. I proceeded to tell this puckering anus that his “paradigmatic views prove [him] to be the ignorant one,” then corrected his definition of “elitist” as belonging to a select or favored group. “Barney” tried to fight back, but couldn’t. Instead, he accused me of name-calling (which I didn’t), then said he’s never “seen a bigger group with more of a superiority complex than [Republicans].” Riiiight! It’s the Republicans that have the “we won get over it” attitude, trying to push two trillion (with a fucking ‘T’) dollars worth of government spending down America’s throat.

I replied by saying he doesn’t know me, and told his holiness that I’m an agnostic Independent that sided with the liberals for decades. His only response was he got whiplash from all my “spin,” I should say ‘Hi’ to Satan when I see him, I “strike [him] as the worst type of person than can exist,” and he has “more respect for child molesters than the likes of [me].” Right, I guess the pillow-biting dumb ass missed the irony of calling me the “worst type of person than can exist.” Whatever, you vaginal blood fart. You’re the one that respects child molesters, then call me the worst type of person? See “Barney,” that is spin. Pull the black cock out of your balloon knot and pay attention!

I could go on, but I don’t want to give “Barney the cocksucker” any more attention than I already have. And yes, I’m fully aware that I called “Barney” all kinds of disgusting names in the above paragraphs, but I wasn’t doing it during the debate like some childish grade schooler. I don’t care, and my disclaimer gives me the right to say whatever the fuck I want on my blog.

It is a sad period in our Country’s history that we cannot debate the issues without resorting to name-calling and labeling. The problem is people see the names or labels that get applied, and don’t judge for themselves based on truths. As Americans, we are not only given the right to freedom of speech, but we also have the right to question our government and the ideals of others. In fact it is our duty to question our government and voice our opposition, for if we don’t, we are nothing but sheep being lead to slaughter.

Let’s hope that the Democrats pull their collective heads out of the ass, and that a government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Anyway, back to my point. No, I’m not happy with the choice. I am happy, however, that our airwaves won’t be inundated with political commercials, our roadways won’t be littered with political posters, and Keith Olbermann can finally go back to sucking the cock of whoever gave him his job on MSNBC. Be sure to wear your bib, Keith… I’d hate for you to ruin your tie, my friend.

If you read my last blog post, you’ll recall that I was a bit mystified that I was leaning conservative. Call it age, call it wisdom, call it fear. I liked John McCain, because Barack Obama is pretty much an complete unknown. Oh, we know the life he wants us to know, the life we know from his two books, the life that the media agreed to report. I’m talking about the used-to-be-Muslim, socialist/Marxist, “James Cone-ian,” unrepentant terrorist, Chicago politics side of Obama that we all want to know about.

My friends, before I get going here, let me say that I am not angry, or bitter, or depressed that the candidate I voted for lost the election. Mr. Obama’s team was well-funded, and ran an extremely effective campaign. In the end, we Americans have a new president, and I honestly wish him the best. He ran on hope and change, and I sincerely hope he can change what is ailing this great country. Come on, I’m not stupid. If Obama fails, American fails, and I seriously doubt our country can survive another Carter administration.

However… my well-wishes don’t preclude him from well-deserved scrutiny and the occasional ridicule. If history says lampooning the past 43 presidents is fair game, then the 44th is also a legitimate target. Out of respect to the Democrats and liberal left wing, I will show their president the same respect and loyalty that they have shown the current Republican president. According to Francis Edward Smedley, “all’s fair in love and war.”

To be in the political spotlight, you have to have a thick skin. Criticism is part of the job. There’s always going to be people that don’t like you. The disciples of the Messiah better get used to the fact that their beloved president is going to held to the extremely high standard he set for himself. Obama made a lot of promises. His followers believed he could do no wrong and could walk on water. Well, the campaign’s over Mr. President-elect, and you’re at the water’s edge. Put your water wings on and get walkin’.

Look, just because many countries and their leaders, as well as 52% of the American electorate and mainstream media fell in love Barack Obama, doesn’t mean I have to. This is America where — for the moment — we still have First Amendment rights. Yes, Obama is an “African American.” That doesn’t mean he should be treated with kid gloves, my friends. His detractors should not have their opinions squelched for fear of being called a racist or un-American.

And speaking of African American, in Obama’s own words he called himself a mutt (when referring to shelter dogs for his kids). He’s a swirl, people! Let’s not forget that he’s half black, and half white. His father was black and from Kenya, his mother was white and from Kansas. I’m a little tired Hollywood‘s mouth pieces spouting off about how proud they are of America for electing a “black man.” They insist on planting their face in front of any camera and shove their view down our throats, telling us that he’s a great man, the JFK of our generation. Give me a break.

To be honest, I don’t understand all the love that was poured on Obama. Recently, the economy went into the toilet like a digested 32 ounce Porterhouse turd. It splashed up on the sphincter of our 401(k) plans like a Herb Moses pearl necklace on Barney Frank‘s turkey neck. While most experts criticized Obama’s tax plan as detrimental, the polls showed B. Hussein Obama could handle the economy better than John McCain. Why? What makes people believe Obama, with his community organizing, eight years of state stenate, and two years of U.S. Senate experience could handle a trillion dollar budget better than McCain with his five years of U.S. House and 22 years of U.S. Senate experience? Am I missing something? Are people are fucking stupid? I looked it up; it’s on the Int0rn3ts, so it must be true! Some people still believe the Earth is flat, the moon is made of cheese, the moon landings were faked, Elvis is still alive, and a junior Senator from Illinois can be a better president. It was the Kool-aid. It had to be the Kool-aid. This infallible trust in Obama is based almost entirely on a few facts; he’ll change America and he’s Democratical… not another Bush Republican.

Oh, lest I forget the government dole. I think people also believed Obama would grant tax credits and stimulus checks. God bless the Treasury‘s checkbook!

On thing that I find super creepy is everyone fawning over Obama, writing songs and painting pictures about him like he a Pope, or the second (another?) coming of Muhammad. Does anyone remember the murals of middle east dictators that we used to see on the evening news decades ago? Here’s one a couple or few of what I’m talking about. Maybe it’s just me, but that’s just a form of idol worship! As a kid, I never put pictures of rock stars or athletes on my bedroom walls… or at least I don’t recall doing that. My point is, it’s fucking creepy! Especially if you’re a citizen in a third world nation, and your jackbooted dictator forces you to paint his picture on the side of some shithole no-tell motel. Two words: super creepy. Now, compare those litter box dictator murals to the murals that the Flavor Aid-drinking supporters of Obama have painted around our nation: this one, this one, and this one. It seems eerily similar, doesn’t it? Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but with a name like “Barack Hussein Obama,” and the gaffe of “57 states,” coupled with his Islamic upbringing and these freaky weird murals… I can’t help but wonder what the hell we’ve gotten ourselves into. And it doesn’t stop at murals. Hell no. There’s shirts, too. Here’s another, and another. Damn. It’s only a matter of time before he has people graveling at his feet, kissing his ring. Sieg Heil!

Even the media — both press and broadcast — jumped the goddamn shark during this election cycle. They were mollycoddling the Chosen One, our Savior of Hope and Change, like the surrogate infant son of Allah. A study by The Project for Excellence in Journalism found that media coverage for both presidential candidates was equal after their conventions. However, coverage for McCain was 57% negative, 14% positive, and 29% neutral. On the other side, Obama’s negative, positive, and neutral coverage was 29%, 36%, 35%, respectively. Factor in affirmative action, and that almost seems fair.

Sarah Palin‘s coverage was surprisingly more even, but was covered 3-to-1 over Joe Biden. Palin received 28% positive, 39% negative and 33% neutral coverage. But the negative coverage was viciously negative and downright evil. Mainstream media should be fucking ashamed of themselves for the flat-out lies they told! Oh yes, lies! Like saying Palin’s Down syndrome baby Trig was actually her oldest daughter’s illegitimate baby. That was a lie that no one in the media bothered to validate. I guess they were too busy enjoying Obama’s chocolate salty balls.

Cap'n Crunch should revoke their journalism degrees!

Forget the lies, much was made of Palin’s gaffes — the Bush Doctrine, foreign policy, what periodicals she reads, the clothes she wears — and she got a substantial amount of scrutiny for it. Yet, Joe Biden barely got a mention. During the vice presidential debates, Biden said, “[Vice President Dick Cheney] doesn’t realize that Article I of the Constitution defines the role of the vice president of the United States, that’s the Executive Branch.” In the same statement, he continues, “The only authority the vice president has from the legislative standpoint is the vote, only when there is a tie vote. He has no authority relative to the Congress. The idea he’s part of the Legislative Branch is a bizarre notion invented by Cheney to aggrandize the power of a unitary executive…” Where’s the outrage? How can a senator of 36 years not know that Article II — not Article I — of the Constitution outlines the Executive Branch? How can a senator of 36 years not know the vice president is the president of the Senate? Let me say that again. A six-term Senator doesn’t know that the Vice President of the United States is the president of the Senate! Was he asleep during history class? Was he absent the day he assumed office in 1973? Jesus Christ!

Can you imagine the parodies that would have ensued if Sarah Palin had fucked up like Biden did when he said, “When the stock market crashed, Franklin D. Roosevelt got on the television and didn’t just talk about the, you know, the princes of greed. He said, ‘Look, here’s what happened.’” Sounds innocuous, until you realize Herbert Hoover was president in 1929, not FDR, and no one was watching television. Television was in it’s infancy in 1929 (only a year old), and electronic tube televisions weren’t mass-marketed in the U.S. until 1934. I ask again, where was the outrage? No one cared. Everyone was too busy looking longingly into Obama’s eyes and groping his ass, I guess.

I was completely floored by another tidbit from Fox Mulder‘s filing cabinet. During the campaign, Obama said of Pennsylvanians in small towns, “they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren’t like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations.” Really! Another blow to the Keystone State’s mining industry, near the end of the campaign an interview came to light that had Obama saying he would bankrupt the coal industry if they built any new coal power plants. Now, if I still lived in Pennsylvania, I wouldn’t have voted for the candidate that uttered such insults. Yet, Pennsylvanians voted for Obama 54.6% to 44.6%. Unbelievable.

To add injury to insult, Jack Murtha, Pennsylvania’s 12th congressional district Representative said, “There is no question that western Pennsylvania is a racist area.” He quickly pulled his foot from his dentures and issued a retraction; “there’s still folks that have a problem voting for someone because they are black … This whole area, years ago, was really redneck…” Murtha won his bid for a seventeenth term. Apparently Pennsylvanians aren’t racists or rednecks. They’re fucking retarded!

Now that we have chosen our next King of Kings, I expect America will actually change. However, I don’t think it will be for the better. I fear that people will now expect to be treated different by a democratic government run by a sympathetic minority president. In June, I wrote of the race card and stated that if Barack Obama won the presidency, all “race cards” would expire. Well, guess what America! Race cards expire in January! African Americans will not be able to scream “racism” if they feel the Man is keeping them down. You can’t bitch about the Man if you are the Man, bitches! Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton will be reduced to common Americans, their clout for racial equality reduced to a girly slap fight.

While many feel we’ve turned a corner on racism in the country by electing Obama, I have a sinking feeling that we’ve begun a new chapter that will only widen the rift. I hope I’m wrong. I honestly do. I don’t want to ride in the back of the bus.

The racial and gender bias in the 2008 Democratic primaries was an issue whether or not we as a Nation wanted to admit it. You know there are a lot of narrow-minded racists in this country that would never vote for a black turd. There are an equal number of misogynist cocks that would never cast their vote for a female douche. It’s not hard to see where the votes for these two candidates came from.

Balack Osama, riding an overwhelming wave of African-American support, killed Billary in most big cities, while she lynched him (metaphorically, goddammit. metaphorically!) in rural areas. In fact, the success of any black candidate for any office can be directly correlated to the proportion of African-Americans in the population. Why do you think three of the past four mayors of Philadelphia (dating back to 1984) have been black? According to the 2000 Census, 45% of Philly is white, 43.2% is black. I grew up in Philly, and I remember the racial tension of the campaigns when the city elected its first black mayor. Even after Goode‘s popularity waned following the MOVE investigation, he was still re-elected. Amazing! All this just proves my point. There doesn’t have to be more blacks in an electoral area, there just has to be a somewhat equal percentage of blacks and white… and with those numbers, black candidates are more likely to be elected to office. In predominately whites areas, black electoral success is not so easy. I wonder what would happen if both parties threw us a curve ball. In 2016, if the Democratic party nominated a cunt… we’ll call her Oprah, and the Republican party nominated a cocksucker, oh, let’s say openly gay comedian Scott Thompson (yeah, I know he’s Canadian). I think this country would loose its fucking mind. Congress would outlaw watermelon, fried chicken, rainbow parties, and maple leafs for sure!

Anyway, let me make myself clear. I am not a fan of Balack Osama. In fact, I’d have rather had a president with tits (and I don’t mean McCain’s man tits). The point of this blog entry is certainly not to defend race- or gender-based political decision making. I’m just pointing out that it exists and that it will be a factor in the upcoming general election. In fact, when the Democrats started jockeying for the 2008 nomination back in, shit, 1972 I think, I wanted Billary to be president because it would piss off so many republicans. But now Billary has bowed out and we’re left with Osama and Old Man McCain. Doesn’t it worry anyone that McCain is 71 and wants to be president? What if he died after being elected? Fuck, George Carlin died at 71, people! (And if you weren’t paying attention, I used all seven of George’s words you can never say on television above. Rest in peace, George.)

Anyway, I’m leaning towards wanting Balack Osama to win… but for reasons that aren’t so clear.

As a country, I think we must nominate and elect an African American. Seriously, how will the rest of the world view the U.S. if we don’t nominate a black man for President? We’d be seen as the racist, war mongering assholes that we were 230 years ago, sans the powdered wigs. If we elect Balack Osama, every single race card in America expires! No shit! Think about it. “Yo dawg, I not be gettin’ dat job at da McDonald’s because I is black.” Ugh, sorry my negro friend, you did not get the job because ebonics is your primary language and you have more “bling” on your teeth than Mr. T wore in The A-Team. There would be no more affirmative action. No longer could the race card be effectively used against us cracker-ass crackers! Whites and blacks would be on equal footing. If anyone tried to play the race card, all we’d have to do is point to a picture of our black president. Shit, I’d carry a picture of Balack Osama in my wallet! The so-called race card would be as useful as little orange $500 Monopoly bills at the gas pump… or, as my uncle Bob used to say, “as useful as a limp dick in a whorehouse.”

Gas prices fucking suck! There’s not a whole lot more I can say than that. I’d have bet all the sweat on my nut sack plus three quarters, a nickel, and two pennies (that’s all I got, man) that I’d never long for the days of $3.30 a gallon gas. Just a dollar lower than today’s ass-raping prices would save me $132 a month. When we started this commute from hell to Seattle (also known as hell), gas prices were about $2.30 a gallon. Now they’re nearly double! Personally, I don’t give two squirts of camel shit why the prices are so goddamn high. Someone, be it A-rabs, the government, big oil companies, or little green martians, needs to do something about the price of gas in this fucking country before the price of everything is out of the reach of us middle-aged white guys making forty to fifty thousand a year. Seriously! The price of everything (and by everything, I mean everyfuckingthing) is going up and up thanks to the high cost of fuel. Of course, salary isn’t rising to match the rising cost of everything. Increased spending plus stagnant earning equals no money. Anyone else see a problem here?

That’s all I got. It’s too hot to write any more. Where the hell did this sweltering heat come from? The first 20 days of “June-uary” barely made it to 65°F here in the northwest of the Pacific Northwest. Now it’s June 29, and we’re in the middle of a near-record heat wave. Someone turn off the furnace! My butt crack is a canyon of swamp-ass! Simply excrement!

I have a tale to tell about my right knee, but I’ll wait until I get back from the doctor about that. I was supposed to see the doc on the 20th, but missed the appointment because of shitty traffic from Seattle to Whidbey Island. That appointment was rescheduled for July 3.

Anyway, are you as tired of all this political horseshit as I am? This ceaseless parade of ass-kissing and back-stabbing started back in January of 2007. January of 2007! Jesus Christ, that’s fully two years before the new President takes the oath of office. Are you kidding me? Lately, it seems that there’s always an election going on. If it’s not local, it’s state, congressional, presidential, or American Idol and Big Brother. Someone make it stop before I photoshop again!

Of course, everyone has jumped on Obama‘s bandwagon even though the bandwagon has no destination. “C’mon people, jump on board! I’m fired up and taking this bandwagon straight to the White House!” The White House… oh, the irony of it all. I think people like him because he’s not a Bush or Clinton. Think about it. The 18 year olds voting in this election were born in 1989 or 1990. King George I was in office from 1989 to 1993. Prince William the Adulterer from 1993 to 2001, and King George II since 2001. I’m chalking the popularity of Osama up to being someone different than the past 20 years. A change…

However, I’ve been saying it weeks before Super Tuesday, and people are finally starting to see it for themselves — the man doesn’t say anything! Oh, words do come out of his face, and they are eloquent words. He has a natural knack for talking that makes people listen… but so did our first black president, Bill Clinton. He talks about America needing change. What? Are we panhandling? Jingling a tin cup on the street corner of Earth? What fucking change are you talking about, Mr. Osama? The country needs a new direction. Two words: TomTom. He’s fucking fired up for some reason; I still haven’t heard why. I just want him to give us a plan. Scribble it on a napkin. Send us a text message. Something! Maybe if he’d share his presidential agenda I could grow to like him… if I could just see past his Muslim-sounding name.

But if not Osama, are democrats supposed to choose Billary? I actually like some of what she’s saying… but she’s a Clinton… She’s Hillary Rodham Clinton. She can’t be bargained with. She can’t be reasoned with. She doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And she absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead… and that’s when it’s not that time of the month. I have to admit, putting a gun to my head and forcing me to choose a democratic candidate, I’d have to pick Billary… if for no other reason than to hear the introduction, “Ladies and gentlemen, Madam President and the First Gentleman.”

I think South Park said it best; douche or turd.

And with all this jaw-jacking out our ass about change, I can’t help but think we’re going backwards. The economy is tanking, but The White House refuses to use the “R”” word. It sure feels like were inching closer and closer to our past: gas prices are high because of “shortages,” the president’s approval rating is in the porcelain poop catcher, and Knight Rider and American Gladiators are on television. What the fuck, people? Did my soul-crushing commute cause me to drift into an anti-Rip Van Winklesque sleep, where I awoke in the past? I swear, I was flipping channels on the satellite the other night and found the Harlem Globetrotters playing basketball. Not a repeat of old Globetrotters games. Oh no. A brand new batch of players, and they were playing the Washington Generals! I’m not making this shit up! If Welcome Back, Kotter makes a comeback, oh my god, I’m gonna crap my pants. I know the writers are on strike, but seriously, do we really need to see Knight Rider again? It was a terrible show to begin with. No amount of Ford muscle car is going to make it any better. Give it a rest.

Well, it’s kinda short… but I’ll have another update before the end of February.