Entries tagged with “Barack Obama”.

Harry "Dead Eyes" to defend Obama against Boehner

Harry “Hammertime” Krinkston to defend Obama against Boehner

First, Speaker of the House John Boehner sued Lebron James. Yesterday, he got official congressional approval to sue someone even bigger–– President Barack Obama. And this big man wasted no time in counterpunching back.

Obama has secured Harry “Hammertime” Krinkston for his defense attorney!

“The president was impressed with Krinkston’s television commercials that run late at night,” said a White House insider. “He likes the fact that at the end of spot, Krinkston looks directly into the camera and says, “Someone causing you trouble? Let me cause them pain. I’ll kill the mooks, so help me ginny!” Then, Krinkston does his signature move, curling his right hand into a fist and punching the camera as a title reads: HAMMERTIME! along with the phone number of his office.

Although Krinkston’s TV commercials usually highlight his personal injury and car accident expertise, the attorney’s office said “he can handle any case that needs two fists of justice.”

Greek funny man killed by serious Russian madman

Greek funny man killed by serious Russian madman

In a classic case of misunderstanding, comedian Zach Galifinakis heard that Russian leader Vladimir Putin wanted to appear on his show “Between Two Ferns” because “he wanted to kill.” The chubby comic thought this meant that the top commie wanted to “kill” in the comedy sense of making the audience laugh. Instead, Putin appeared on the show and bludgeoned Galifinakis to death with a dull machete.

Insiders say that the Russian leader was upset that President Barack Obama recently was a guest between the ferns and was considered funny by many people. Putin wanted “to appear strong, not like a pantywaist clown-man-child.”

Obama appeared on “Between Two Ferns” to promote his signature legislation, The Affordable Care Act. Although the jury is still out if his appearance boosted enrollment, one body was conspicuously absent: the dead body of Zach Galifinakis.

Ironically, he died with no insurance which was tragic since paramedics were available to treat him but instead let him bleed out due to lack of insurance.

Pussy Riot will play at the comedian’s funeral.

Punctuation may hold the key for winning the 2012 campaign.

Last week, President Barack Obama’s campaign shifted into hyper-gear as it added an exclamation point to its longstanding slogan of “FORWARD!

An advisor for Mitt Romney says that his candidate will not take such aggression lysing down. “We’re officially going to counter by adding two exclamation points to our slogan “BELIEVE IN AMERICA!!” said the advisor. “Consider this checkmate, Mr. President. Pack the oval office and rent the U-Haul, you’re kaputski.”

The Obama campaign is rumored to be conducting focus group testing of what is described by one insider as “a nuclear response” to the crafty Romney response–– a slogan with three exclamation points. “No presidential campaign has ever been so bold, so declarative. We think we can put this race away once and for all if ‘FORWARD!!!‘ tests well.”

The Romney camp did not return phone calls, but anonymous sources within the campaign report that campaign leaders are seriously exploring a variety of punctuation options going forward!!!!!!!!!

A scrappy debate, but questions still remain.

In last night’s second Presidential Debate, a group of 80 undecided voters gathered in a town hall setting at Hofstra University. They came with questions for President Barack Obama and G.O.P. challenger Mitt Romney. Many questions were asked and answered– or used as tees for well-rehearsed talking points. But what of the questions left un-asked? The Lint Screen has unearthed some of those by using the time-honored investigative journalistic technique of rooting through the trash following the debate (and eating perfectly good food some idiot threw away). Here are some of the questions we found written on crumpled scraps of paper thrown in the trash.

“Have either of you seen any good movies lately, and if so, what would you recommend as a good date movie? I’m into action adventure but my girlfriend likes romantic comedies. I should mention that she doesn’t think Adam Sandler is funny. Have any picks for me?”

“Exactly how much do you guys hate each other?”

“Sometimes I have trouble sleeping at night. Do you have any plans for how to keep the underside of my pillow cooler?”

“I like to laugh. Would each of you tell me a funny joke or anecdote?”

“Two trains leave Chicago for San Francisco. If train A is going 70 miles an hour and Train B is going 90 miles an hour, that’s pathetic. Why can’t America have a high speed rail system like so many other industrialized countries?”

“What is your all-time favorite sandwich? And please, no vegetarian answers.”

“My husband never shares his feelings. What is it with you men anyway?”

“Your first names, ‘Barack’ and ‘Mitt’ are awfully funny-sounding. If elected, would you change your first name to something more American like ‘Duke’ or ‘Butch’ or ‘Skeeter’ or something?

“Who was your favorite Beatle? And why?”

“I’m thinking of a number between one and ten. What is it? Guess correctly, and you’ve won my vote. It’s that easy, fellas.”

“Do you love America? I mean really, really love America? And if so, why don’t you just marry it?”

I have a new identity, one for serving slabs o' justice.

One day it shows up unannounced, like an obnoxious person you knew from college that you had hoped you’d never see again.

It’s a summons for jury duty; your civic duty for being a counted by the census.

I had served once before, 15 years ago. Here in Gwinnett County, Georgia, jury duty could be as long as a week. Every night I must call to see if I’m required to show up the next day. In my previous experience, I did. It was one long week and the only trial I heard was a fender bender.

I lobbied hard for the death penalty, to no avail.

So here I was again, 8 A.M. Monday. There were over 250 citizens dutifully processed and filed into the large holding room. The officials got us organized into batches of 12. That organization process took three full hours.

I was juror #17 and had the pleasure of being seated in front of two women who chattered on and on throughout the morning. One woman (juror #47) was loud, the other (juror #48) spoke in whispered tones that I couldn’t really hear. Perhaps a neighborhood dog heard her.

Juror #47 is in her early 60s, with black hair. She wore a white cotton pants suit, a blue blouse, tan flats, a blue canvas hat with flowers and tinted prescription glasses.

Juror #48 is about the same age, taller and stouter in brown polyester slacks, a white top, brown flats and a magnificent doo of bright blond hair. What follows are some of the things I heard coming out of juror #47’s active mouth:

“Timothy Geithner got his job in the Obama administration because because his parents were friends with Barack’s mother.”

“Barack was put into power by George Soros, who is his puppet master.”

Juror #47 (on left) tells secrets at day's end.

“The Democrats don’t want to bring down debt, ever! They just want to tax and hurt small businesses.”

“Soros wants to make the dollar worth ten cents. He wants to topple the U.S. He’s done it to other countries.”

“All this pay to teachers and social security and medicare is a big Ponzi scheme.”

“Glenn Beck predicted the leftist activists would cause troubles in the mideast, and look what happened. Rioting in Greece– something’s going on. The left is sending activists to the middle east. All this trouble going on, then it clicked in my head– Glenn said so, too! They’re trying to keep it a secret, but Glenn was waking people up.”

“A lot of people couldn’t handle what Glenn was saying so they stopped watching him, but it was true. Then Soros put out a contract on Glenn. Glenn knew it and said it. Glenn had such courage!”

“You know, that old show ‘The Twilight Zone’– it predicted a lot of this mess. I miss that show. I wish that guy who hosted it hadn’t smoked himself to death. We could use him today!”

“Obama promised everything to everybody and it’s just deceit. The press protected him, but Glenn Beck told the truth.”

“That Michele Bachmann is amazing. Has her own kids plus 20-some foster kids and she’s in politics– how’s she do it all?!”

“The people advising Obama don’t know what they’re talking about. Herman Cain said he’d pick the right people!”

“No matter who the Republicans put up for president, the dems will dig up dirt on them. That’s what they do.”

“The democrats have made this country a laughingstock.”

“A lot of people in this country have no idea what’s really going on.”

“That’s what I liked about Glenn. He said, ‘Do your own research!’, and I did.”

“George Soros is the puppet master. He wants it left, then pulls it to the center. I’ve watched it over and over again, but now I have insider information. Soros pulls all the strings.”

So it went for a couple hours. I never knew how much I didn’t know.

After three long hours of sitting and playing musical chairs to get assigned numbers and batched in dozens, four groups of 12 were ushered into a courtroom where we faced the judge, an assistant district attorney, a defendant and his two attorneys plus a court reporter who talked into some contraption. The judge was a Georgian with a heavy accent and a propensity to mumble. I didn’t hear much of what he said. Maybe that neighborhood dog did.

The gist of our case involved marijuana. We were asked a series of questions from the prosecutor and defense attorney:
“Have you ever smoked marijuana?”
“Do you think it should be legalized?”
“If you do think it should be legalized, could you follow the judge’s instructions to obey Georgia law that says no amount of marijuana is legal– could you prosecute by the letter of the law?”
“Do you know or are you related to any law enforcement officers?”
“Do you believe that Rod Serling and Glenn Beck are angels of truth and that George Soros and Barack Obama are devils of destruction?”

O.K., I made that last question up. Sorry.

Sign outside the courtroom. I wonder what the long umbrella incident was. Anyone have any guesses?

This round of questioning with all 48 potential jurors went on for a good 20 minutes. The first batch of 12 were asked to stay for further questioning while the rest of us got a lunch break.

I believe Supreme Court Chief Justice John Marshall famously said, “One cannot be judgmental on an empty stomach. Hey, uh, you going to eat the rest of that sandwich, or what?”

After lunch, we reassembled in the big room we’d lived in all morning, then my group of 12 was ushered back to court and into the official juror’s box. Comfy chair, padded with good leaning action. A juror could fall in love here.

Each of us was asked questions by attorneys and the judge. When it came my turn, they confirmed that I had responded marijuana should be legalized. They explained that under Georgia law, any amount of marijuana is considered illegal. Could I follow the judge’s instruction and prosecute on the basis of the law? Good question. I told the truth that while I’d like to believe I could follow the letter of the law, I felt that too much energy, time and money was wasted on these type of cases. There are more important things we should be focused on instead of pot violations. This perspective would naturally have to influence my ability to prosecute to the full extent of the law. There were nods given by questioners, and notes taken.

After a half hour of questioning, we 12 were taken back to the big room to wait another hour while two more batches of potential jurors went through hot box grilling.

Finally, seven hours after my arrival, the 48 potential jurors were brought back to the courtroom and 12 were selected as OFFICIAL jurors to serve on this post trial. I was not selected. Jurors #47 and #48 didn’t make the grade, either.

Perhaps George Soros had them black-balled.

We were dismissed and I left the courtroom. In front of me, Juror #47 found a new friend to tell her political secrets to.

Now, every night this week, I must call in to see if I am required to show up for another round on “Who gets to be a juror?!”

Today, I’m free, but I know so much more than I did yesterday. Justice was served.

The greatest president ever? Did you have to even ask?

Now that the “long version” of President Barack Obama’s birth certificate has been made public, celebrity head o’ hair Donald Trump is demanding new proof of Obama’s citizenship.

Citizenship in the human race!

The Donald is now claiming that the President may not be a human being, he may be an alien from another planet!

“Look,” Trump told reporters while breaking ripe cantelopes with a polo mallet, “I’m an incredibly successful, charismatic natural born leader. Certainly the most intelligent human ever conceived. People want me to be President. I get that– they’d be nuts not to want me. Now Obama, he’s the leader of the free world–– why won’t he go on air and bare his belly for all the world to see that he was born of woman. I mean, come on, what’s he trying to hide? His showing his belly button would give some proof that he’s not an alien sent here to destroy civilization and eat our children, kill our seniors and bankrupt our society. What’s he trying to hide, anyway? Mr. President, just lift your shirt, bare the button and be done with it.”

“I’d make a great President,” Trump said. “The best ever. Lincoln’d be crap compared to me.”