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Home Columnists Doug Giles Hey A**holes! Obama Wants to Talk to Your Kids

Hey A**holes! Obama Wants to Talk to Your Kids

First off, I’m not calling you, my patriotic readers, aholios; that dishonor goes to Van Jones, Obama’s self-avowed communist Green Czar, Barack’s sweetheart, 9/11 Truther, and Muslim terrorist sympathizer. By the way, don’t you get the strange yet delightful feeling that VJ’s about to learn what it feels like to tumble underneath an Obama bus? I hope it’s a green one.

Yep, America, you may now add that derogatory label to the litany of other slurs the TOP LEADERS on the Left have been leveling at constituents who do not smoke their political crack. Have these radicals never heard of Dale Carnegie?

That said, as ill-fitting as that tag is for common sense Americans, if there has indeed been an adjustment in our American argot and “a**hole” is now defined as someone who thinks Van Jones’ and Obama’s vision for America is 110% weapons grade bunkum, then in the words of Denis Leary, I guess “I’m an a**hole!” Thank you, Jones . . . you gave me a new theme song.

Matter of fact, if V-V-Van is right and that is indeed the standing slang definition for people who behave in a contumacious way to a socialist’s wet dreams, then I want Leary’s song sung in remembrance of me at my funeral.

Additionally some of you creative dudes or dudettes ought to retool Leary’s lyrics to that song for today’s traditional American rebels and serve it up at tea parties and town halls nationwide. C’mon, conservatives, libertarians and moderate democrats: Own your a**hole-ishness! Don’t be ashamed. Sing with me, “I’m an a**hole!”

Somebody help me here: What has happened to all of the post-partisanship, “I love you, you love me” rose petals O-Town and his boys were going to spread in DC and beyond? This adversarial administration has parted this nation more severely than Willard Scott’s bald patch has the hair on his liver spot bespeckled head. Heck, Barry is losing the ones he formally won in droves.

Let me help you, Mr. President. I know it is not in my best interest to offer you any assistance because of my politics, but the Christian in me wants to extend some divine advice to you. If you want us to buy your socialistic propaganda, you must reel in the commie czars, the unhinged liberal congressmen and women, and the bat crap crazy madam Speaker’s insulting invectives aimed at the actual people you are trying to hoodwink into okaying your America-unraveling desires. You can’t treat us like Ike Turner did Tina and expect us to sing, make you some curly fries, get all giddy about voting for you, or take a shining to you addressing our kids in their classrooms.

Call us common sensies weird, but when a person—president or otherwise—spurns our desires and he and his top advisors wildly misspend our money, mitigate our liberties, urinate on our values, and call us a**holes, Nazis, terrorists, Astroturf and retards, well, said person and his pals will not only fail to receive our respect or votes, but they have forfeited the privilege of addressing our kids—or our dogs for matter.

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