Politickles

Four years ago, during his first inauguration, Barack and I were thrilled when thousands of Americans from every corner of the country took part in the National Day of Service honoring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

We were so excited because we knew that the celebrations weren’t just about a new president, but about everything that we can accomplish together. And that starts with service.

So this year, as we prepare for another celebration, we’re hoping to renew that spirit of service and citizenship — we’re calling on all Americans, including you, to volunteer in your community on Saturday, January 19th, for this year’s Day of Service.

Please join us, and commit to serve on January 19th.

Throughout our lives, Barack and I have seen that building a full life isn’t about what you can get for yourself  — but what you can give to those around you. It’s a value that’s been central to our lives together. And as parents, it’s something we’re trying every day to pass down to our girls.

This inauguration is only possible because of you and all your hard work. Barack and I are so grateful for you, and for everything you’ve done for us and for our country.

Pledge to join us for the Day of Service at an event near you:

Thanks,

Michelle

P.S. — When you commit to serve, you’ll be automatically entered for the chance to come out to Washington, D.C. for Barack’s inauguration — flight and hotel covered.

[emphasis added]

This is the text of an email dispatched from obama.com and allegedly written by, and expressing the sentiments of, Michelle Obama. Priceless, isn’t it? The two biggest mooches that ever occupied the White House (more grasping even than the Clintons) are not concerned about what they can get for themselves, but what they can give to others. Do they really expect anyone to believe this claptrap, so contrary to the obvious truth? How can they? Is it the audacity of hope? The hope of audacity? The audacity of audacity? Toujours l’audace!

Feel free to publish, post, or pass on Your Weekly Politickle by F.R. Duplantier:

WIFE SENTENCE
As evolving positions now gel,
He pronounces this travesty swell,
But you might change your view
About “gay marriage,” too,
If you’d married a mate like Michelle.

From the archive:

MARRIAGE CONTRACT
The biggest mistake of my life
Was plotting to murder my wife,
But a contract assassin
To see to her passin’
Seemed the only way out of my strife.

The killer was ugly and mean,
But would profit from venting his spleen.
Illegal or wrong,
He’d do it so long
As the money I paid him was green.

I showed him the lay of the house
And a photograph made of my spouse.
He collected his fee,
Then came after me
With a razor-sharp dagger — the louse!

I cried, “Put away that big knife
And spare me my miserable life.
The wounds you’re inflictin’
Are in the wrong victim:
I paid you to knock off my wife!”

“I know what you paid me to do,”
He said as he slashed out anew,
“And I fully intend
To do your wife in –
After honoring her contract on you!”

* * *

I survived that two-timer’s knife,
And so did my murderous wife.
We’re both doing well,
Though we’re sharing a cell:
We’ll be cellmates for 20 to Life!
(1985)

TIME TO KILL
A man had a row with his mate
And decided to speed up her fate.
He thought that his wife
Might enjoy afterlife
And he knew that he couldn’t wait.

There were myriad ways he might bag her –
Bow and arrow, blunt object, or dagger,
Or poison or pills –
For there’s so much that kills
(The possibilities made him stagger).

There were hanging and gassing and worse –
The methods too great to rehearse –
And that’s just if he tried
To fake suicide,
For murders were much more diverse.

A compendium of deaths accidental
Holds drowning and falling essential,
Includes hit and run
And cleaning a gun,
And a long list of acts providential.

He thought he’d give toxins a try,
But the chemist had several to buy
And he couldn’t decide
Among cyanide
Arsenic, strychnine, and lye.

He considered a venomous snake,
As well as a time-triggered cake:
A bomb (tick, tick, tick)
Would sure do the trick,
But what kind of a cake should he bake?

A pillow case stuffed in her face
Could be counted to leave not a trace,
But a bat and a brick
And a sharpened ice pick
Are weapons that all have their place.

And, if shotguns had been all the rage,
He would have bogged down on the gauge.
Thus, before he could choose
The best weapon to use,
His poor partner had died of old age.
(1985)

POSTAGE DUE
A man stuffed his mate in a crate
And mailed her away second rate.
She came back the next day:
There was postage to pay –
For the mate had misstated her weight.
(1985)

Last week’s limerick:

DREAMS FROM MY FEATHERBRAIN
“Like a Ninja, I crept ’til I’d gotten
To a spot I could get a good shot in,
Zeroed in on my game,
And then took a dead aim,
Singlehandedly killing bin Laden.”

Slideshow/sideshow? Click pic.

The words “Michelle Obama” and “style” don’t really go together, do they? When politics and fashion meet, however, the rule of thumb seems to be that Democratic First Ladies are reported to have “style” no matter how clueless and classless they are. I stopped after 6-10 slides of the “Michelle Obama Style Guide,” but couldn’t resist sharing. (“Ooh, this is so gross! Come see!”)

Feel free to publish, post, or pass on Your Weekly Politickle by F.R. Duplantier:

FREELOADER
What began with such grand expectations
As a quest for the best destinations
Finds Michelle scaling back
When it’s up to Barack
To finance his own family’s vacations.

From the archive:

DEADBEAT
“Oh, Barack, this is fabulous – still,
Can we really afford such a thrill?”
“Stop your worrying, honey,
It isn’t our money:
Someone else will be footing the bill.”
(2011)

ME SHELL, CONT.
While the rest of us scrimp all the time,
She displays an indifference sublime:
Our First Lady, Michelle,
Does exceedingly well
As she travels the world on our dime.
(2010)

Last week’s limerick:

(DOING) THE OBAMA
Two steps forward and bow like Barack.
Arms akimbo, a single step back.
Now a shuffle in place
With a smile on your face.
Two steps forward and bow like Barack . . .

Feel free to publish, post, or pass on Your Weekly Politickle by F.R. Duplantier:

TARGETING
“Stop the presses! Big story in play!
It’s a Pulitzer Prize-winning day!
Michelle’s gone to the market
And she’s shopping at Target!
Get a camera crew there right away!”

From the archive:

ME SHELL, CONT.
While the rest of us scrimp all the time,
She displays an indifference sublime:
Our First Lady, Michelle,
Does exceedingly well
As she travels the world on our dime.
(2010)

ME SHELL
An American naturally jeers
When appalled by a comment he hears:
“The first time in my life
I am proud,” said a wife
Who has slept through the last 40 years.
(2008)

Last week’s limerick:

EXPERIENCE
This economy sure is a sad one
And it looks like we’re in for a bad run,
‘Cause we can’t expect gobs
Of legititmate jobs
From a guy who has never once had one.

Feel free to publish, post, or pass on Your Weekly Politickle by F.R. Duplantier:

BUTT OUT!
We Americans surely are prone
To big bodies with minimal tone:
If Michelle wants to witness
To physical fitness,
She should shed a few pounds of her own!

From the archive:

LIGHTWEIGHT
Getting older, you may realize
That your waistline’s a much larger size,
But Obama’s stayed slim,
Having kept himself trim:
Let’s award him the No-Belly Prize!
(2009)

THE END
Though I’m no Clinton fan, I do find,
As support for his wife has declined,
That I’m actually beginning
To wish she were winning,
‘Cause I can’t stand to see her behind.
(2008)

BASKET CASE
My obesity just isn’t funny
And I’m suing for bundles of money:
When a basket of candy
Is too full and too handy,
Who’s to blame but the old Easter Bunny?
(2005)

McPIG
You’ve grown by leaps and bounds;
Your super size astounds;
The fact is that
You’re really fat:
Four-three, three hundred pounds!
(2003)

OLDER & WIDER
As a lad I was long and lean
And drank gallons of Ovaltine,
But I had to rethink
That rich chocolate drink
When I wound up an oval teen.
(2002)

BUSYBODIES
They’ll first find tobacco at fault,
Then coffee, wine, spirits, and malt.
Then they’ll next demonize
Colas, burgers, and fries,
Then all snacks made with sugar and salt!
(1998)

NO CURE FOR THE COMMON SCOLD
They insist we directly disown
Every pleasure and pastime that’s known.
Those “natural” nags
And health-conscious hags
Oh, why can’t they leave us alone?
(1998)

Last week’s verse:

THIS JUST IN!
More attacks from al Qaeda ahead!
Rising prices for milk, eggs, and bread!
Higher government spending!
Higher taxes impending!
– And Osama bin Laden’s still dead!

Feel free to publish, post, or pass on Your Weekly Politickle by F.R. Duplantier:

ME SHELL, CONT.
While the rest of us scrimp all the time,
She displays an indifference sublime:
Our First Lady, Michelle,
Does exceedingly well
As she travels the world on our dime.

From the archive:

ME SHELL
An American naturally jeers
When appalled by a comment he hears:
“The first time in my life
I am proud,” said a wife
Who has slept through the last 40 years.
(2008)

Last week’s limerick:

DEM BONES
In the backyard we broke out the bibs,
Fed our faces with barbecued ribs.
Now we’re nursing the embers
And awaiting November’s
Bacchanalia of barbecued Libs.