I can no longer in good conscience give money to Barack Obama. Not until he begs me for it. Not until he hears my words and does what I tell him to do.
Up until now I have tolerated Obama's far, far right of ultra-far left stances. Though he was only my twenty-seventh choice after LaRouche, I tepidly accepted his candidacy after it became obvious that Dennis Kucinich's Apache helicopter gunship was not going to come swooping down from the gathering stormclouds firing orange-gloried missiles of righteousness at the hydraheaded corprofascist foes of Washington come January. But I accepted it, I swallowed it, I took it like a man. I shut my piehole, refrained from the Blogging, and let things run their course to ensure that McCain would not be elected this November.
But I haven't heard a single word about cattle rustling.
Not. One. Single. Word.
Coming. From. Obama.
About. Cattle. Rustling.
At. All!!!.
And cattle rustling is the single issue that matters most to me. I have written the campaign eleven times per day, seven days a week about it and that corprofascist, DLC lollipop-licking, right of far-left stooge Barack Obama won't write back to explain exactly how he plans to capture those bandits who steal our cows nor how high he will string up those bandits when he catches them. I repeat: nothing. Zilch. Nada. Bagle.
Barack Obama wants bandits to steal my cattle. Period.
What else am I to conclude from his silence? You tell me. Go ahead, all you enablers, all you sheeple who want bandits to run rip shod over everything.
So that bastard won't get squat from me. Instead, I'm going to spend my money on whiskey and women and take my mind of this COLOSSAL betrayal of my values and, really, when you think about it, America's values. Because cattle rustling can destroy a working ranch. And Obama won't stop it.
Sure, some on the far, far, left of the far right have suggested that this is unhelpful, maybe even self-defeating, to deny money to the only candidate who will end Republican rule. Some have even made the suggestion that, if I'm not going to send money to Senator Barack "I don't care about banditry" Obama, I invest in lariats, fencing, well-constructed locks and thicker chains instead. That's well-meaning claptrap. Because I am going to spend the money where it will do me the most good, which is for good whiskey and bad women, and Barack Obama MADE ME DO IT. He forced me to, because I have nowhere left to turn.
He won't even change my diaper, nor wipe my nose neither. Bastard.
GO NADER!!!!1