Not sure I understand the contours of our political landscape when it comes to gestures--what's in, what's out; what's appropriate and presidential, what's "hood."
Apparently--that is to say, guessing by the silly-ass media hullabaloo surrounding it waaaaaay back in, meeeh, August--there's somethin' kooky about a half-black, half-white man fist-bumping his wife on the campaign trail.
By the way, doesn't that sound dirty? "Fist-bumping his wife"? Fist bumping? How about "giving the fist bump to"? Still dirty. Bumping fists with? Sounds like... a euphemism for something dirty. Like, "I want to purple dinosaur Barack Obama!" We all know what purple dinosaur means in this context, right? Well, try replacing "fists" with "uglies."
My apologies. Truly, I: a) can't help myself, and b) digress.
Anyheeeww, riddle me this: why isn't anyone up in arms about the below-pictured hella-ancient former president fist-bumping the below-pictured hella-emaciated former tennis pro? Hmmmmmm?
It all stinks of some lewd kind of conspiracy--and if we want to talk about bumpin' whatever and dinosaurs of any hue in connection with that second image, we can take "stinks" and "lewd" in all kinds of horrifying directions.
AND THEN. As if the fist-bumping/purple dinosaur issue weren't baffling enough:
!!!!!
Apparently there's nothing kooky at all about a crazy-ass rifle-totin' jesus-lovin' white lady rockin' the devil horns. Right?
I suppose, so as long she's decked out in Marc Jacobs and Prada, we don't give a--how you say--hoot. Oh, gosh golly, you really let one slide der yoh gotcha media. You are to the presidential election as DYBIP.typepad.com is to professional tennis. And by that, I of course mean AWESOME JOB.
So anyway, about that handbook. Karl? MBIMOTMOG? (rise, rise from the ashes!)
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