In 2008, Hillary was weighed down by the vote she cast in favor of an unpopular war. Today, Barry O is forcing her potential 2016 opposition to vote for another war and be weighed down like my wife was. Joey B is already front and center as a war proponent. Hip hip hooray!
I swear I didn’t talk Barry into it, even though he still owes me from 2012…
Are you kidding me? WordPress wants to know whether Miley Cyrus crossed the line.
Let me make this very clear:
She did not have sexual relations with that audience. She is a beautiful young lady and I would be proud to host her in my home any day of the week when my wife isn’t here. The American people need a dialogue about diverse forms of expression in this country and I want to encourage all young women to express themselves as they see fit.
Is twerking something that a distinguished professional like me should find disturbing? It depends on what the definition of “is” is. The media should focus on more important issues like Syria and leave the rest of us to our pleasures.
Some old friends have started an organization to encourage my wife’s future residency, but they called it “Ready for Hillary.” If you’re “ready” for something, doesn’t that usually imply that what you’re ready for isn’t unambiguously good? I’m ready to go on a diet but I don’t have to be ready to eat chocolate cake. I always want chocolate cake!
I know you can also be ready for something in the sense of preparing long and hard for it. I was ready to take the bar exam because I had studied long and hard. I doubt my wife’s supporters have studied long enough to know what they’re claiming to be ready for. She’s not the sweet old lady she appears to be.
To those of you who say you’re “ready” for Hillary, thank you so much. Maybe she can go live with you because I’m NOT ready for her. Bring me Miley Cyrus instead.
I tried to be funny but, as usual, Hillary said my joke was in bad taste. She’s such a stick in the mud. I only wanted to mention the exceptional progress our country has made over the past twenty years. When I became an American resident, we had a Supreme Court justice named Harry Blackmun. Today, we have a resident who is a hairy black man.
Don’t ask me how I know he’s so hairy.
People used to call me the first Black resident of the United States. That title now belongs to a half-white guy. Go figure. It used to annoy me but my wife still wants to be the first female resident. She’s only half female, so I guess it’s okay.
I’m not telling you which half of her is female. Don’t ask.
Hello there everyone.
My wife Hillary used to have a job that required her to travel around the world. Unfortunately, she resigned and now she’s hanging around with me. Since I can’t ogle the ladies in her presence, I thought I’d start this blog to talk about my American residency while chronicling my wife’s attempts to acculturate herself to a residency of her own.
I’m sure you’ll have more fun with this than I will.