Obama challenges Romney to a duel

The Voice (U.S. TV series)

Following a savage rhetorical beating at the hands of his opponent, President Obama has taken the campaign battle to the Romney team with a daring, new challenge.  A one-night only singing competition between the candidates on “The Voice.”  Obama’s handlers laid out their strategy this way:  “If we can’t use actual sidearms, a free-market musical skirmish has got to be the next best way to settle this thing.”

English: Christina Aguilera sings "Can't ...

Deprived of his usual trick-bag of rhetorical traps, President Obama will have to rely on a silky falsetto and, to nudge the army of unmotivated millennial white kids, a knit beanie. With voting constituencies of challenger and incumbent hardened before the actual election day showdown, both candidates are confident a singing competition will connect them to the undecided portion of the electorate.  (Political demographers have analyzed and parsed this group into two subgroups:  1) People committed to their indecision.  2) The Re-undecided.)

English: Cee Lo

Hoping his hard luck story will resonate with the judges. Romney laid out his plan.  “I can’t imitate Al Green like Obama but I surely can make “Let’s Stay Together” my own by transforming it into a marching band piece.  It’s amazing how you can improve rhythm & blues by muffling the rhythm  with a high-velocity mixture of styrofoam and other petroleum-based products.”

Now, Mixmaster Mitt has to dig deep to find a song about deregulation that will make the chairs of Adam, Christina, and Blake spin in his direction. Until Cee-Lo Green supplies a picture I.D. and an electric bill, a Denver Boot will be clamped around his chair.

English: Blake Shelton at the 45th Annual Acad...

This will be one campaign event with no stump speechifying, debate zingers, scripted answers, or gotcha questions.  All that will matter to the judges are vocals that preserve their sense of hearing.   During the musical duel, expect to see dramatic cutaways to the campaign teams in the green room jumping up and down and imploring Blake Shelton to press his red button.  Others will simply implore Christina Aguilera to jump up and down.

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The candidates’ dogs bitch about the presidential campaign.

Irish Setter

Seamus Romney’s campaign notes:

Friends & Enemies

Ever since Barack Obama made gay marriage mandatory on the Left Coast, Hollywood types have been feeling their oatmeal pancakes and joining Harry Reid’s call to see Mitt Romney’s income tax returns.

Harry Reid represents Nevada, home state of Las Vegas which used to mean serious Cosa Nostra shit, but today, stands for little more than acrobats and country singers.   The place is thick with cowboy hats.  Why?  Is anybody expecting a cattle stampede in the Luxor showroom?

Beyond My Understanding

Mitt Romney - Caricature

Mitt Romney – Caricature (Photo credit: DonkeyHotey)

Reid’s charges sure capped off a rough month for the Mittster.  First came Mitt’s undiplomatic comments about Olympic security in London.   Listen, I’m willing to admit Mitt’s said some dumb shit during the campaign but the London insult?

Do we really want a President who sounds like a stooge for London’s chamber of commerce?  So I’m gonna give the man a pass for that step on the poop bag.  But what creeps me out about the dude is the borderline psycho chuckle that bubbles up from his throat when somebody asks Mitt a tough question.

Foreign Affairs

Whatever bad feelings he’s generated, Mitt made up for it with his trip to Israel which might just lock up the vote of women with back hair.

The Week Ahead

The more serious test of Mitt’s judgment is the way the Republican Vice-Presidential dog fight plays out.  Mitt was seriously considering a chick to be his bitch, but after serious thought he realized there was no bikini material there.  My personal choice was Marco Rubio.   After all, he responds to commands in two languages.

But the winner is Paul Ryan of Wisconsin.  He’s an intellectual so the party professionals have their work cut out trying to keep that little nugget secret from their constituency of high school drop-outs.  Uneasy lies the head that wears the cheesehead.

Many of you thought my prediction in last month’s posting of a Romney victory in November meant I was automatically backing the former governor. You’re all wrong.  No matter who’s running, I’m endorsing John McCain because we both know what it’s like to be confined in a cramped space.

Campaign Ads

Mitt is taking some heat about a TV commercial that claims Obama is undermining welfare reform.  It may not be technically true but here’s why it’s important to say it.  Nobody really believes a word Mitt says so we felt taking a stand, even a dishonest one, would keep voters engaged.  So, in a way, our distortion is saving democracy.  I get kind of emotional thinking about it.

Bo Obama’s campaign notes:

Friends & Enemies  

These are the Dog Days in D.C. so the celebrity fundraising parade continues.  Jamie Lee Curtis gave me a delicious scratch on the butt last month but her friendship with Michelle has gone too far.  She never shuts up about that damned Activia.  Nobody ever actually enunciates the word “colon” or “sphincter” but everybody knows what’s on their minds.

Now, West Wing staffers compete for Michelle’s favor by planning events like the 10K against Lactose Intolerance.  The last thing this content-free campaign needs is an event where the President has to run alongside bloated, gaseous cheese addicts.

Beyond My Understanding

English: Yarmulke with Happy Festivus embroide...

The dreaded Yom Kippur holiday is right around the corner.  Holiday? The Obamas make all of us fast in sympathy with our liberal Jewish friends.  Know what that means?  An empty dog food bowl, that’s what.  And a parched water bowl.  I’m praying we don’t repeat last year’s breaking of the fast with a canine colon cleanse.

Foreign Affairs

Am I sounding a tiny bit freaked out?  Who wouldn’t when faced with the prospect of returning to Nairobi in January.  So, I’m calling a big time out to stop and smell the roses and any musky reassurance that’s out there.

The Week Ahead

Monday:  Stop and smell the roses.

Tuesday:  Stop and smell a buttock.

Wednesday:  Do not stop.  Smell the House leadership anyway.

Thursday:  Stop and smell the botox dealers in Georgetown.

Friday:   Sign up for PETA.  Engineer canine overthrow of Western Hemisphere.

Campaign Ads

Our media advisers tell us voters don’t believe political ads, so we warn folks how dangerous it can be to insist on the truth.  It’s a game. Our commercials define Mitt Romney as a heartless douchebag before he has a chance to define himself as the douchebag with a heart.

Heresies

A hacker friend sent me the following:

Sheldon Addison
Venetian Hotel                                                                                                                     Macao

Dear Newt,

Your not-so-terrific showing in the recent Republican primaries is making me reconsider whether your Presidential candidacy can realistically advance the cause of Israel.

It’s not that I haven’t appreciated your words of support over the years, but when it comes to making a case for Eretz Yisrael, my granddaughters—Caitlin, Chrissy, and Hayley—have become serious competitors for my financial support.

How can a trio of twenty-somethings influence minds in a way that a former House speaker can’t?  Well, it seems that, semi-literate blonde girls have been making history ever since Joan of Arc.  These girls are not just family.  They’re a street team who bill themselves as “Hot and Half-Jewish and What You Gonna Do ‘Bout It?”

The question is, who has been more effective generating goodwill for Israel?  You, your primary opponents, or my granddaughters?

Mitt Romney.  He seems to like the idea of Israel but might feel a stronger connection to the large number of dearly departed in the Promised Land now lining up for their free Mormon conversion.

Newt Gingrich.  There’s a Yom Kippur video showing you, Newt, jimmying open the McDonalds on Ben Yehuda Avenue so Calista can have a McRib Sandwich.  In the election business we call that an oopsie.

My granddaughters.  With little more than their bikinis and little fur shtreimels, Chrissy, Caitlin, and Hayley, created a rabid, pop-lockin’ Purim flash mob.  Only in the Orthodox part of Jerusalem did people scream, “Prostitute!”   Unfortunately, their procession never got close to the Dome of the Rock which was booked that day for a stoning.

You want to know effective, Newt?  My gorgeous girls and their little street team have also made serious inroads in enemy territory:  Hollywood.

What kind of serious inroads?   Mel Gibson invited them to his court-ordered Seder.

They’re so busy they had to reply “Maybe” to Madonna’s Evite for her Kaballah Blow-out.

I admit we still have plenty of work to do to create a convincing firewall for their Super PAC financing.  But Chrissy reassured me with this promise:  “I checked with my girl, Sarah, who’s a total bitch about money and I said, “Do you have a problem what that?” And she’s like “Nah.”

That’s outreach, bubbie.