ssǝɹddns ɹou ɹɐǝɟ ɹǝɥʇıǝu plnoʍ ʎʇǝıɔos ǝǝɹɟ ʎlnɹʇ ɐ ʇɐɥʇ ƃuıʇnɔolɯnɔɹıɔ suıɐʇuoɔ ǝʇıs sıɥʇ



Saturday, January 7, 2012

The Oblahblah Song

As many of you know, I am an avid bicyclist.

If you remember correctly, during his presidency, Dubya was endlessly mocked, scorned and ridiculed whenever pictures of him riding his mountain bike were published. And I never understood why a guy would be castigated by mostly panty-wastes for riding a mountain bike off-road. I mean, could they do it? No? That's what I thought.

Then, when Jesus H. Soreto (or whatever his name is) took office, I spied a picture of him riding his glorified tricycle on the streets of Chicago and damn near choked to death on my ill-timed swig of Diet Coke.

And at that very moment, this old Dr. Demento classic came flashing across my brain.



Hard to argue that.

Later

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