Dependent
On Things
In bed one night Obama
snuggled up to his wife. He was reciting the most
romantic of words, poetic in nature.
Michelle listened
intently, breathing a little faster as the
brilliant foreplay oratory continued.
All of a sudden Obama
stopped and started to pout.
Michelle inquires,
"What is it my tax hiking sexy man? Your
meaningless words are so beautiful and
titillating."
"I'm sorry, my
angry, unproud partner," cried Obama.
"I can't continue. I've lost my.........
my........teleprompter."
(Ed. Note:
Presidential? You've got to be kidding!)
CSW
08-22
