The New Year's thing; Have a Happy! (Breaking silence)

It isn’t spring in Washington yet, but the scandals are a-blooming like cherry blossoms. We still have a few days until the Second Coming of the Messiah becomes fact and Barack Obama takes office.

My back is hurting from bending over backwards to pray that Obama will succeed as a president. I wish him to succeed for the sake of America. My fellow citizens bought him; now they have to pay for him.

I saw a photograph of former presidents on the morning news. It made me break my moratorium and come out howling. There was the president-elect, George H.W. Bush, George W., Willie the Zipper and Mr. Peanut, all gathered in one room. Jimmy stood further to the left of the camera than the portrait artist intended, but there it is.

Going back to scandals, I was monumentally disturbed when I heard that Mr. Burris from Illinois would be met by armed guards if he marched on the Capitol and tried to claim the Senate seat his governor was auctioning to the highest bidder. Great, I thought. Minimum wage men with guns are now conducting the nation’s governance.

Of course, Harry Reid—the ultimate gray man—is now proclaiming that “an accommodation” will be made. The race card has already been played, like a premature opening in a game of dirty Hearts. My home nurse is from Chicago, and I enjoy seeing her laugh herself silly at the machine antics of politics as usual. She doesn’t live there any more, and distance adds humor to disturbing situations.

The Messiah hasn’t even been sworn in yet, and the Dems are already too caught up in what they entitled “the cult of corruption”. I am breaking silence because I want a smoking gun; I want to know who is linked to what. I was somewhat taken aback in the course of holiday telephone calls; the vehemence against Obama is overwhelming. People who didn’t vote for him are already upset. I am disturbed for a number of reasons. I didn’t include in my promise to give a guy an even break the relief from calling him “The Manchurian Candidate”.

I am going out in the rain and dig a shallow grave on Scorpion Hill. Then I will lay myself down and roll in it. 2009 will either be a reasonably good year, or an unmitigated disaster. My money’s on the latter. Your money is on the line as well. I pay minimal taxes; y’all pay out the kazoo for CEOs who can buy $27,000,000 apartments in Manhattan with their “bail out” money.

I have not thrown the nomenclature “Osama Bamalama” around since the election. He won fair and square, which is more than I can say for Al Franken in Minnesota. We went through a breath-taker of an election in Georgia, so the Dems wouldn’t have a rubber-stamp for whatever lunacy the Far Left forces upon President Obama. Our narrow victory in turning out for Saxby Chambliss is seemingly negated by Franken “discovering” a number of votes that simply don’t exist. Having a former actor for president was one thing; having a former—and unfunny—stand-up comedian in the Senate is a whole ‘nother six-pack of possums.

When my daddy taught me to hunt, he had one rule: “You kill it, you eat it.”

You bought it, you pay for it. Welcome to Obama-world. I’m going back into hiding.