So let me see if I've got this straight: The President Who Cried Wolf was on the teevee last night
weeping, sobbing, getting crocodile tears all over his patriotic silk tie while telling us that the sky is falling, that we need to be afraid, be very afraid, that we're all doomed, doomed, we're all going to die, die, die horrible nasty gooey flaming deaths a thousand times over if we don't allow him and his Cabinet minions to once again loot the Treasury of taxpayer money so that his administration can bail out the Wall Street fatcats who are responsible for getting us into this financial crisis in the first place. Preznit Greedhead and Secretary Paulson want to fully fund the CEOs' golden parachute packages while not giving one damn dime to the average American who is rapidly going under for the third time; and don't ask them why or how they plan on using that money other than to keep their rich friends supplied with caviar, vacation homes and gold-plated toilet seats, because if you question any part of this so-called "plan" you're a lousy, un-American traitor.
Meanwhile, in the face of this same financial crisis, Senator McChickenshit has declared that he wants to "suspend" his campaign
, go back to Washington for... well, something
that he hopes looks like it might be kind of a presidential thing to do, and, oh yeah, let's just postpone, or better yet, maybe just cancel
those pesky presidential and vice-presidential debates that had been scheduled for quite a while, because it looks like neither one of us might make a very good impression with the voters right now, what with our being all out of touch with the state of the nation and caught in packs of lies and such.
On the other hand, McChickenshit's running mate, Caribou Barbie, promises, if elected, to keep this country safe from witchcraft
. Well, that's a relief!
Is that about right?