A Right-Wing Christian Second-Rate Pr0n Blog
We may not have the presidency, but we will always have this night.
You had "The Office of the Next President-Elect" embroidered on your leather chair? I like the way you think man, give me a hug.
Sorry, kiddo, but you're no longer a fetus we accord more rights to than a grown up. You want a lollipop, get a job.-OR-No, this isn't "bad touch" - I'm frisking you for live microphones. Nobody's going to expose my secret plans to enslave the middle class.-OR-It'll all be over tomorrow. Then, I can go back to my day job shipping jobs overseas and emailing marriage proposals to binders full of white wimmen.
"Don't let it become a fetish? Like heck, this feels great?"
"Don't be afraid little boy, the monsters in the White House will be gone soon!"
Sometimes the Romneybot 2012's human mimickry was astonishingly lifelike - especially compared to the stiff, staged-for-cameras family appearances of the competing model.
And in that tragic unguarded moment, Timmy shouted "BIG BIRD AKHBAR!!", pressed the button, and turned Mitt, the campaign bus, and half a mile of interstate into a smoking crater.
"Thanks for the hug, son! Now...which wife's are you?"
"And I will feed him, and hug him, and pet him, and call him George."
You complete me...
Now now, don't be scared. Just because Auntie Anne Coulter's head just burst into flame doesn't mean mine will.
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