22 February 2011
And She Laughed
"HE" catches breath "called me WHAT?"
And the First Lady, it was true, was grateful for all the laughter he brought her morning.
But it just wouldn't stop. Even at dinnertime. Suddenly she had to stop eating or she feared she might choke. The laughter just kept rolling of its own accord.
"HIM. Seriously. HIM. HE called ME...oh god" and then she fell on the floor and, like the laughter, she could not stop rolling, as she just laughed and laughed and laughed.
Barack asked, "I don't understand. What'd I miss?"
It was 2 am, and Barack just couldn't take anymore. Even the earplugs wouldn't help. He would have to sleep on the couch in the Oval Office or something. But his wife just wouldn't stop laughing. He couldn't understand what it was all about. She hadn't had the breath to tell him since this morning. She could only gather that some man had called her fat, which also was a bit out of left field.
But Libya was exploding and he had things to do. So he grabbed his favorite blanket, a Bill O'Reilly book if he needed something to make him doze off, and he would have gotten more than one pillow if her head, streaked with gaspy tears as she kept on laughing, would just stop rolling all over them. She'd kept accidentally kicking him too. He stayed clear.
"THAT GUY. THAT GUY called ME...SNORT BWAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
And other guys actually complain about snoring, he thought. They think THEY'RE busy in the morning. He sighed and went off down the hall as what by now was a hoarse cackle just kept going.
He had to find out tomorrow just what was so funny. He could do with a laugh and she was keeping them all for herself. Just like the popcorn that one time.
Available NOW at Amazon!
"HE" catches breath "called me WHAT?"
And the First Lady, it was true, was grateful for all the laughter he brought her morning.
But it just wouldn't stop. Even at dinnertime. Suddenly she had to stop eating or she feared she might choke. The laughter just kept rolling of its own accord.
"HIM. Seriously. HIM. HE called ME...oh god" and then she fell on the floor and, like the laughter, she could not stop rolling, as she just laughed and laughed and laughed.
Barack asked, "I don't understand. What'd I miss?"
It was 2 am, and Barack just couldn't take anymore. Even the earplugs wouldn't help. He would have to sleep on the couch in the Oval Office or something. But his wife just wouldn't stop laughing. He couldn't understand what it was all about. She hadn't had the breath to tell him since this morning. She could only gather that some man had called her fat, which also was a bit out of left field.
But Libya was exploding and he had things to do. So he grabbed his favorite blanket, a Bill O'Reilly book if he needed something to make him doze off, and he would have gotten more than one pillow if her head, streaked with gaspy tears as she kept on laughing, would just stop rolling all over them. She'd kept accidentally kicking him too. He stayed clear.
"THAT GUY. THAT GUY called ME...SNORT BWAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
And other guys actually complain about snoring, he thought. They think THEY'RE busy in the morning. He sighed and went off down the hall as what by now was a hoarse cackle just kept going.
He had to find out tomorrow just what was so funny. He could do with a laugh and she was keeping them all for herself. Just like the popcorn that one time.
Available NOW at Amazon!
Labels: bastards, fatboy mcfascist, obama, right wing, vladrushka
¶ Tuesday, February 22, 2011
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