Clyde at My Aisling has a pretty good thing going with his Obama Private Diary posts:
September 25, 2008. First debate with The Prisoner tomorrow. Sumbitch took away my prep time with his running to WDC to rally the House members for the financial-thingey vote. House members? I didn’t even know they get to vote! Bunch of junior-varsity hacks anyway; scrub players. Somebody told me there’s like 5 times as many of them as there are of us. That’s stupid. They don’t know nothing about being in The World’s (Second) Most Exclusive Club. Yeah, that’s right – second! What’s first? The one I about to ride my own coattails into. Got that right! The Most High President of the 57 States of America! YEAH! ME! First rule: Them House pukes gonna get punked. Don’t get to vote no more. Bunch of Prisoner lovers. Yeah, pushback. Sucks, eh?
So this debate. I got a few good lines ready. Check this one out: “What I do is I close corporate loopholes, stop providing tax cuts to corporations that are shipping jobs overseas so that we're giving tax breaks to companies that are investing here in the United States.” The funny thing is, of course, ain’t no such thing as a “loophole.” The tax code makes you pay taxes on everything except what it cuts out. And what it cuts out is stuff to help make jobs. So you go cutting “loopholes” and you go cutting jobs. People too dumb to know that. This line also sucks right into the union thugs. Can’t wait until Little Jimmy Hoffa kisses my ring. Day after my coronation: Hey, Jimmy? C’mere, son! And could you imagine if I cut out tax deductions for ANY company with overseas operations that they COULD have here? It would be economic chaos! Good thing the press is in the fully kneepad mode – they ain’t analyzing nothing I say. It’s like they don’t care. Sometimes I don’t get that.
Read the rest here. Here's a little more tease for you:
September 27, 2008. Boy. Did. I. Fuck. That. Up. “I got a bracelet, too!”? WTF, Barry? That Prisoner just had me rattled. I. Hate. The. Military. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It. If’n this was the South Side and you jumped in front of a drive-by, the brothers would just say, “Dumb ass. Course you gonna get shot!” So why all of a sudden is it any different because the street is in
BagdadBagdhadBahgdadBaghdad? (Ya’d think an f’g dictionary would be on a plane this big. Damn. I need a way to remember that. But AH Got Dinner and Dessert! That works. “Feed the Troops!” My new motto. Gotta run that past My People.)
Man, I just blew it last night. Why can’t I have a teleprompter? Don’t seem right. It’s a race thing, I just know it. You see The Prisoner’s wife? Damn, she’s fine. I’d do a wife swap any day of the week. Whew!
The best part is when Clyde does his own analysis of the Obama he created - it's classic.
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