Letter to Clint Eastwood
Hey, Clint, Obama is not an empty chair. He is an ideological butt squishing small people’s contrary ideas on the wicker seat.
We, countrymen, are squished through the cane holes and fall beneath his socialistic sway. We land beneath his collectivistic girth and note a difficult aroma from above us. The unions are giving graft from beneath his waistband. It is asinine crony capitalism again.
Obama’s gas bypasses the congress but he rules through his seams by executive order. It’s stale around him. He’s hanging with Mick Jagger – “Jumping Jack Flash, it’s a gas, gas, gas….” What about Altamont? Oh, that’s only liberal violence. The odor of his bureaucratic ways doesn’t dissipate. The stench of his sixteen trillion dollar deficit will last for a hundred years.
Bill Clinton may stand around Obama trying to wave away the stench with a newspaper. Nothing disappears. Obama supporters, I hope you are proud of yourselves in the swamp of your naïve submissions to hope and change.
Clint, Romney’s election will make my day.
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