Hillary v. Obama

You may have noticed a lack of election coverage in this space, and for that I have no reasonable excuse. I lack the knowledge necessary to give the topic the weight it deserves. Therefore, I’ve decided to farm-out my political coverage to Pablo Richardson, a noted election historian I met outside McDonald’s on 13th Street in DC.

Hillary Clinton’s ongoing battle for the Democratic nomination does not seem likely to end well. With more and more figures within the party urging her to leave the race, she seems very likely to bow out sooner rather than later. Now, as an election historian, there is a precedent for this – who can forget the 1884 Republican primary, in which James G. Blaine eeked out a victory over incumbent President Chester Arthur. Blaine edged out Arthur using the same tool that I predict Obama will use to defeat Clinton, and that is an expertly trained, bloodthirsty pet eagle.

(Ed. note – Hold up…)

That’s right, an eagle. I for one, don’t trust Obama. Not because he’s Chinese, but because he strikes me as the kind of guy who would use an eagle for evil rather than good. James G. Blaine called up his eagle in a time of need. What makes you think Obama won’t in order to put the final nail in Hillary’s coffin? He loaded one of her breakfast burritos with cyanide, you think he won’t sick an eagle on her? Lucky for America, Hillary makes all her aides take a bite out of her burritos before consuming them.

Which brings me to my next point: what is the history of the eagle? Eagles date back to prehistoric times. Eagles had a symbiotic relationship with the Tyrannasaurus Rex, the king of the dinosaurs. Eagles used to fly in their mouths and pick the T-Rex’s teeth. And the T-Rex would just sit there and let ’em pick away, like a big old teddy bear. Wouldn’t even mess with ’em.

Here’s something I bet you didn’t know about T-Rex’s – they’re actually as sweet as can be. Sure, they’ll attack if provoked. But you get one of those bad boys on your lawn, and you start rubbin’ his belly – why, he’ll roll over like a collie! They’re big old babies! ‘Cause guess what, they could have been eating those eagles all along! But they didn’t.

(Ed. note – Okay everyone, I paid big money for this guy, so I’m sure he’s going to bring all this back to the election somehow…don’t worry, it’ll all make sense)

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am no expert when it comes to dinosaurs. I have only seen three myself, and that was all while I was at the zoo. And heavily medicated, I might add. But I will say this – Jurassic Park does not do them justice. Big, massive, beautiful creatures. My Uncle Ray actually has a little plesiosaur, swimmin’ around his koi pond. It’s the cutest little thing. He named it Buttons.

Oh yeah, that’s my other thing about baking soda –

(Ed note – I’m really sorry about this everybody, but I’m a little afraid not to let him finish at this point. Bear with me, this should be over soon)

And the thing about baking soda is, okay…you’re not real soda! I’ve had soda before. It makes bubbles and when it’s made just right, my tongue hurts when I gulp it. I drank a gallon of baking soda yesterday. Drank it all down with my dinner, and guess what? The verdict’s in baking soda, and you’re no Seven Up!

My tongue felt fine when I gulped it.

So in conclusion – how boss would it be to have an eagle who can kill your enemies? I mean, he lives in your house…he’s real nice to you, because he thinks your his mother….you don’t give him a cage, but you train him not to shit everywhere…then when some jag-off at Blockbuster gets on your case about a late fee, you can whistle and he’ll be suckin’ talons! Man, I tell you what…I revise my earlier sentiment…eagles are allright!

Vote Obama, everybody. He owns an eagle. And so should you.

Signed,
James G. Blaine

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