I'm interrupting my regularly scheduled programming for a special report from the Democratic Convention, which opened last night in Denver. No time for pictures: I'm on deadline, people!
[Editor's Note: I added some photos for that lazy shit reporter. - Black Bart, Editor-In-Chief]
Unfortunately I was not able to attend, but did happen to be in an "adult" establishment that was piping in a feed from one of the cable channels. I couldn't hear the audio and was frequently distracted by females curious about my laptop, so my following impressions are based purely on lip-reading ability and an uncanny knack for intense, occasional focus.
Nancy Pelosi (D - California) opened the convention by extolling the benefits of a Reverse Mortgage, and how every American was entitled to a free gold kit. Nancy clearly demonstrated that she was still a "looker" for her age, and she will make a fine addition to my "D.I.L.F." list. Instead of being hung-over, the sparse crowd actually hung on her every word, since the first hour was a wee bit early for the alcohol "downslope", even by politico timetables.
In this way, she was not unlike the opening act in 1969 at Altamont Speedway, warming up the placid, law-abiding audience for the rock stars to follow. The attire and hairstyles of those in attendance served to reinforce the connection between past and present. Perhaps the only tangible difference was the abundance of crack pipes and the notable absence of Hells Angels.
Next up was Michelle Obama, who was introduced by her brother (who thankfully neither resembled nor behaved like Billy Carter). Mrs. Obama is a very striking woman, and she was absolutely regal in her delightfully form-fitting green dress. I could certainly get behind her message.
A video montage prior to the future First Lady's introduction illustrated her "Janet Jackson-like" metamorphosis over the years, from chubby female "Webster-clone" to "All For You" nubile hottie. My mind drifted to thoughts of Justin Timberlake gayly, patiently and mediocrely standing by her side throughout her speech in anticipation of a revealing finale. But regrettably and tastefully, it wasn't in the tarot cards.
So instead, Ms. Obama provided us with a powerful, emotional speech, recounting sacrifices* (* mostly of the non-human variety, which served as a refreshing counterpoint to the Clintons) made, values learned, and hopes for our future. She repeatedly emphasized how all people should be treated with dignity and respect even if they probably don't deserve it; including Republicans, frequenters of this blog, and Lamby in particular.
She went on to say that she learned tolerance while growing up on the south side of Chicago; where blonde, mostly-white Republicans with sweaters draped over their shoulders would drive by in Mustang convertibles blaring Beach Boys tunes. It would have been so easy to give into hate, but she chose the higher path of compassion, personal growth, belief in a greater purpose and the distant promise of Hair Metal.
Perhaps it was fitting that any revenge would be divinely exacted in the form of the Beach Boy's later efforts, such as "Kokomo", and of course in Ford's bloated Mustang designs of the 70's and 80's.
Lady Obama went on to explain Barack's background and how - contrary to what Republicans would like you to believe - he was not an elitist child of privilige.
Sure he grew up in Hawaii. But this wasn't the island paradise of today that we would readily recognize from the postcards of lucky bastards who get to go there and then rub it in. No, this was the "hard-scrabble" Hawaii of New Jersey-esque pineapple mills, hula-skirt factories, and scuba-equipped aquatic chaingangs. This was a union-thug, Papillion-tormenting, pre-Don Ho circle of hell that no self-respecting Japanese tourist would visit.
It was a swirling tan-or be tanned, riptide of tropical cruelty and certainly no place to raise or even accidently conceive a child.
And so, eventually a still-youthful Obama learned to time the waves, noting how every 7th one would sway a makeshift coconut catamaran away from this foul place and eventually carry him to that paradise known to the natives simply as "Chicago". It was there that he met Michelle during her Rhythm Nation phase, and became enthralled. Though she was initially repulsed, Barack plied her with his Urkel-like looks and charm, eventually talking his way into her "oval office".
Together, they encountered more adversity on the path to the promised land, with the idiot waiter at Chotchkie's (who would make annoying "dual-machine-guns firing simultaneously" gestures while repeating his first name, staccato-style) being just one example. But they overcame all, including incessant death threats from Hillary at all hours.
Well that's all I have time for, for now. Being in a hurry, I'm sure it's chock full of grammatical errors, although I do guarantee its accuracy. So consider this as Report #1 from your Special (Education) Correspondent, Pug "Scoop" Puerileuwaite.
And now, as "The Cisco Kid" would say, "Adios, amigos! See you real soon with Part-II !"
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