Excuse Me, Is That Your Blog?: Obama

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Inaugurapocalypse

Rarely can an event as historic as yesterday’s inauguration of Barack Obama be summed up with one word. But this one is easy: clusterfuck. Never have I been a part of such a piss-poorly managed event in my entire life.

My friends and I waited in a mile and a quarter long line on abandoned I-395. It was like a fucking George A. Romero flick. Occasionally, we were passed by ambulances, EMTs and buses full of TSA agents who apparently went nowhere and did nothing. And we were the lucky ones, because at least we got in. Thousands of legit ticket holders got screwed out of getting in, thanks to the brilliant foresight of the event planners. Seriously, would it have been hard to figure out how many people the event could hold and only print that many tickets? Or to get like, ten fucking cops posted along the streets with signs or megaphone directing the huddled masses to their cattle pens? Nobody had any clue what the christ they were doing. And incompetent leadership coupled with brain dead tourists = FAIL.

All this bullshit of course went down under the guise of “security” and, as usual, it ended up being more of a hassle than it was worth. When we finally crammed in to the gates, just in time to miss the oath of office, we walked through metal detectors and were briefly patted on the hips. Really fucking thorough. It was like one final “fuck you” from Bush as he guffawed his way out of office.

Though I have to say, it could have been worse. No one died, no one was arrested. In fact, the crowds were all very jovial from what I could tell. And the Metro may have run more efficiently yesterday than I’ve seen it run in my entire DC existence. Tourists were tourists, but most were decent. Most were courteous and respectful; they were here to witness history. Others were self-righteous yuppie douchebags glued to their iPhones, Twittering their thoughts so their douche friends back in New York or Chicago or Boston or Seattle could read them and be jealous (unlike me – I continually updated my Facebook status from my BlackBerry!). Still others were mindless morons that thought it would be a good idea to toss their babies in a backpack or a messenger bag and make them bear the cold for hours on end to see something they won’t remember. Many were devastated to find out they couldn’t drink Starbucks/eat McDonald’s/smoke/chew tobacco/be total assholes on the Metro. But again, these folks were the minority for once, and it was a lot of fun seeing America come together in DC for this thing

There are two things we can be really thankful for today. One, Barackstar is here to bring us Hope, Change, Unicorns, Cotton Candy and Ice Cream Sundays. Two, we don’t have to hear about the goddamn Whistle-stop Tour or what dress Michelle Obama is going to wear or how Obama loves basketball or what kind of dog the Obamas are getting.

Wait, who am I kidding? That shit’s never gonna let up. But at least the tourists will go home. And we can look forward to George W. Bush’s post-election antics. Do I smell “Celebrity Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader?”

Y'all are crazy: A rebuttal by a crotchety old cynic, aka Sober Pundit

While Turk and El Braixan foolishly ventured into the Arctic weather and smothering throng of tourons to catch a glimpse of Obama on a jumbotron, I watched the proceedings unfold from the comfort of my friends' couch in Sherman Oaks. That's right folks, I escaped to Los Angeles to avoid the aforementioned hot mess. Or shall I say, "cold mess?" As my colleagues waited in unbearably long lines to be ceremoniously examined by security guards, or to take a piss, I relaxed in my pajamas, sipping freshly brewed coffee and making goofy faces at my friends' adorable 14-month-old son. Sure they got to experience history in the making, which is the same reason the damn fools took a cab from Arlington to the White House on Election Night to drunkenly belt the National Anthem with some fratboys from GW. But there are few things an old fart (I'm 29) like me despises more than crowds, cold weather, and lack of immediate access to a clean bathroom. Nosiree, I'd rather stay home and watch the President-elect and Chief Justice fumble the oath of office close up on a Television screen, with Wolf Blitzer and that prematurely grey homosexual man explaining everything in detail so I don't have to constantly ask, "What did he say? Who's that tramp dressed like a woman for hire?"* If'n I were unfortunate enough to be stuck in the District for this tomfoolery, I would brandish my cane at the audience assembled on the National Mall and scream, "GET OFF MY LAWN!"**

*Turns out it was Dr. Jill Biden

**GET OFF MY LAWN will premiere soon as part of an ongoing series on Excuse Me, is that your Blog? Our senior correspondent, Sober Pundit, will lament all that is wrong with "kids these days" and how their parents raised them improperly.

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Wednesday, December 24, 2008

OBAMADAN

It’s that time a year again, when families relax by the fire to commemorate the holiday season and sip hot cocoa while reflecting on the year gone by. But this year, things are different. It’s not about Christmas or Chanukah or Kwanza or some amorphous, politically correct “Holiday.” This year, the world can gather together to celebrate OBAMADAN.

In the tradition of other made-up holidays like Festivus, we here at EMITYB are proud to bring you our newly founded holiday. So gather ‘round, children, as we recount the miracle of Obamadan.

Details of the Obamadan legend are fuzzy, but historians have built a consensus based on the following account:

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away (Hawaii), the world was in peril. War raged, energy was scarce and cholera was taking its toll. A young woman with child walked the streets of in search of a place to bear her offspring, a child that was destined to be The Chosen One. His fate was foretold by Thomas Jefferson’s hazy vision 200 years ago, that may or may not have been opium-induced. The father was back in his native Kenya, having abandoned the woman to give birth and raise the child alone. Lacking health care, the woman searched long and hard for an inn rather than a hospital, but alas, every last Motel 6 had lit its “NO Vacancy” sign. It was at the bleak Ayers Compound that the woman finally found refuge, and, yea, her child was birthed amidst a kindling of straw and Marxist literature. It was a strong child, wrapped in swaddling clothes, donning a Che Guevara hat, and bearing the mark of the Savior. Visitors came from far and wide, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and biodeisel fuel. Corn-fed cows from the monoculture farms of Iowa kept the baby warm. This child, “The Obama”, would be our shining light.

The Obama grew to be a strong boy and a skilled carpenter, lending his craft to a slew of LEED certified high-density, mixed-use, transit-oriented developments. He worked for approximately one month, and then decided he was better suited for managerial duties rather than manual labor. He also had one bitch of a splinter. Both the pain from the splinter and his passion for helping the underdog inspired him to organize his former coworkers in a lifelong campaign against “The Man”. The Obama would go on to win the adoration and admiration of many followers, and eventually defeated The Man in an apocalyptical showdown for the presidency. Soon he will rule the world from his sacred Temple at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in the District of Columbia.

Obamadan is a month-long celebration held every year in honor of The Obama, culminating on January 20th. It is a festive holiday marked by indulgence and revelry, symbolizing the bounty brought to us by The Obama’s hard work over the years. Unlike most holidays that encourage self-sacrifice, those who participate in Obamadan are encouraged to “slow” over the course of the month, meaning they should eat constantly throughout the day at a slow speed. During Obamadan, it is improper to NOT drink every night after the sun goes down. In fact, some bars are starting to recognize the growing number of Obamadan supporters and vowing to stay open until 5am during the height of the festivities.

On each day of Obamadan, believers light Change Candles to signify The Obama’s victory over The Man. On the eve of the final night of the celebration, children leave a plate of organic carob-chip cookies and a warm mug of soy milk under their Hope Shrubberis in anticipation of a visit from Obamaclause. Obamaclause is the embodiment of The Obama’s good will, and is said to fly around the world in his hybrid sled led by a team of eight free-range reindeer every January 19th to deliver MacBooks, welfare checks, and New York Times Magazines to all the good little boys and girls. The bad kids, however, will receive a lump of clean coal.

Happy Obamadan, from all of us here at EMITYB.

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Saturday, November 8, 2008

Prepare Your Children for the Gay Communist Madrassahs

In classic EMITYB style, I come to you three days late with my reactions to Tuesday night’s election. I mean fuck it, it doesn’t have to be timely if it’s snarky, right?

Anyway, so it’s official. The terrorists have won. As one distraught American (my aunt) put it, “it’s a shame our children will have to be raised socialists and all our babies will be killed.” Yes, folks, Barack Obama is or 44th president. Enjoy these last few months of freedom, because the Red Dawn is upon us.

As I sat and watched CNN interview Will.I.Am on their fancy Star Trek hologram machine I realized for certain that this was going to be a new America (Personally, I feel like if CNN was going to interview someone so fucking insignificant and irrelevant to the election, and it had to be a Black Eyed Pea, it would have been much funnier to have Fergie there, stung out on crystal meth and wetting her pants while attempting to enumerate the virtues of an Obama presidency). After watching president-for-life-elect Obama deliver the first of his many victory speeches to the new American proletariat in Chicago, I dashed downstairs an took the first cab I could find to Coruscant/The White House to participate in the felling of the statue of Palpatine and then headed out to the drunken Ewok afterparty watched over by the floating apparitions Lincoln, FDR and JFK.

In clebration of such an historic event, word has it that within the next couple of weeks, every American will receive an Obama care package in the mail, in lieu of an economic stimulus check. It will be his first attempt to spread the “wealth,” while safely guarding all the nation’s food, money, rubies and gold to finance the construction of gay communist madrassahs across the country for early indoctrination of our children. The care package will contain: