Obama. The very word tends to remind the sane among us of a dirty word – that which we would rather not utter. For the scarce conservatives in the Hollywood set it is shades of Harry Potter and “he who shall not be named.” For the elitist snobs stuffing Grey Poupon-soaked finger foods up their haughty snouts it is reminiscent of themselves-demanding to be waited on hand and foot–while simultaneously championing themselves as everyman. But, quite frankly, he just reminds me of his own Cyber-Security Coordinator, Howard A. Schmidt.
Despite getting slapped around like a wet noodle in the Virginia, New Jersey, and Massachusetts elections, Captain Kickass shoved nationalized healthcare past our firmly-clenched teeth while claiming we’d love it once we understood it. Bull Schmidt. He knows we hate it. But his overinflated communist ego just can’t let go. And this narcissistic piece of human debris is pumped up by his staff of brainless values-perverting whiners. More Schmidt.
Obama is living proof that Richard Gere was right–you can get a tingle in your leg when a gerbil takes up residence in your rectum. In fact, the clueless liberal-media-parroting pantywaists like Chris Matthews have already admitted to feeling the tingle. That gerbil must really be feeling the love now that Obama is getting kicked around like an angry toil-spill loving surrender monkey. But Obama, the most unhinged moonbat of them all, still doesn’t get it. Oh, he claims he gets it. He claims to be listening. But is he really? Don’t count on it. He’s bringing back that pathetic tyranny-promoting pansy, David Plouffe, to calm the seas of the midterm elections so that as many brainless morality-destroying ecoweenies as possible remain in Congress. Schmidt happens.
So, why have I decided to expand my ramblings beyond 140 characters on Twitter? Simple, Obama is full of Schmidt. If I don’t, I realize I could be up Schmidt creek without a paddle – just like the rest of the country. Yeah, I know. No Schmidt! I’m already living a full life. I’ve got things to do just like everybody else, but I know if I don’t get my Schmidt together and write this blog then I’m not doing everything I can to resist this would-be tin-horn dictator’s power grab.
Basically, everything Obama says is a load of Schmidt. And I offer up myself as an opposing viewpoint. Despite what Obama would have you believe, the majority in this country still give a Schmidt about what goes on here. We know that everything he says is a load of Schmidt. We know he’s been a real Schmidt to his own half-brother in Kenya (which gives us a clue how he wants to treat us). We know we won’t have Schmidt to live on if Obama manages to transform America into a mirror image of his screwed-up soul.
So here I am, one lonely penguin against Obama and his corrupt Chicago machine politics. I kind of like the odds. My intention is that I’m going to be a thorn in his side and that by the time he is kicked out of office he’ll be Schmidting bricks. So, Obama, keep it up, your lunacy is some funny Schmidt. And I intend to take advantage of that fact. Game on.
P.S. Frankly, Obama, just like Scott Brown, I don’t give a truck about you – or the Prius you rode in on.