bobbymcgill
Member
- Aug 23, 2008
- 92
- 11
- 6
Imagine for a moment that everything the candidate's and their supporters said about the opponent was actually true. What would America be like if either of them were to become president? Let's step into our time machine for a quick look.
John McCain's America
Joe Six-pack wakes up at 6:30 AM, after 3 hours sleep in between jobs. He had a great gig at the beer cooler factory, but since President McCain outlawed unions he and his fellow workers were unable to negotiate a wage increase. Now he works part time at the 24-hour pawn shop over on Lincoln next to Ray's Rifle House.
Sidestepping the churning oil derrick, which he affectionately calls, "Sarah," Joe retrieves the newspaper from the front yard of his trailer. Wiping the sweat from his brow he realizes it is late December and almost beach weather. He smiles at this prospect and wonders if he can use his six hours-a-year sick leave towards such an outing.
He worries about getting all seven of his children together for a day. Two of his sons were drafted for the war against France and his 17-year-old daughter, Jaeger, is busy with her second child, who, ironically was fathered by the teacher's aide from her abstinence class at Richard M. Nixon High School.
Joe gives the front page a look. Just below the fold of the non-recycled page he sees that the CEO of his company has booked a $50 million dollar flight to the moon aboard a Chinese space liner. He smiles with pride that he could be working under a man of such greatness and individual achievement. A true American!
Down the street he hears that the protesters are getting an early start. When he leased the trailer last year, the property owner warned him that it was only two blocks away from the assigned protest area just outside of town. He sneers at the sound. "Probably them darn Muslims again wanting their prayer time increased back to five times a day. They should be happy we give them two!"
It's getting late, Joe realizes he better get ready for work. He looks around for a moment, then up to the heavens, and thanks Jesus for all his blessings.
Barack Obama's America
Penelope Pantywipe wakes up at 10:30 am. She turns on her computer and reads the latest headlines. Looks like President Obama has called for another tax increase. She smiles at the good news. She receives a government subsidy for her business, "Penelope's Playhouse" --a small school that teaches sex education to kindergarteners. She checks her email, but there is no word yet as to whether her government grant to teach safe gay sex has been approved. She's not worriedit is only a matter of time.
Getting up from her government required (and exorbitantly expensive) ergonomic chair, she leisurely walks to the shower. "Darn," Penelope mutters. "No hot water again." The solar heater has been on the blink lately and what with the constant brown outs since Obama outlawed fossil fuels, she is glad her apartment has big windows to keep it well lighted and warm.
After her shower she dresses before enjoying a cup of green tea and a bowl of granola. It is now 12:15 and she must get going. Her assistant Joy is out all week taking care of her domestic partner, making the most of the mandated 41 days paid sick leave.
After putting her bag in the trunk Penelope notices that she forgot to plug in her car again. Darn. She locks the garage door and walks the 13 blocks to the bus stop. On the way to work she is startled by the explosion of a demolition team destroying the Baptists church to build another of the government's new Marxist Learning Centers. She falls back asleep against the window.
At work she sees that Hector the landscaper is there trimming the hedges. She says "Good morning," but Hector gives her a puzzled look since he doesn't speak English. Penelope pays the look no mind, and tells Hector to be sure to thank Jesus, the illegal Mexican who runs all the landscaping crews, for the fine work they are doing.
From Idle Wordship
John McCain's America
Joe Six-pack wakes up at 6:30 AM, after 3 hours sleep in between jobs. He had a great gig at the beer cooler factory, but since President McCain outlawed unions he and his fellow workers were unable to negotiate a wage increase. Now he works part time at the 24-hour pawn shop over on Lincoln next to Ray's Rifle House.
Sidestepping the churning oil derrick, which he affectionately calls, "Sarah," Joe retrieves the newspaper from the front yard of his trailer. Wiping the sweat from his brow he realizes it is late December and almost beach weather. He smiles at this prospect and wonders if he can use his six hours-a-year sick leave towards such an outing.
He worries about getting all seven of his children together for a day. Two of his sons were drafted for the war against France and his 17-year-old daughter, Jaeger, is busy with her second child, who, ironically was fathered by the teacher's aide from her abstinence class at Richard M. Nixon High School.
Joe gives the front page a look. Just below the fold of the non-recycled page he sees that the CEO of his company has booked a $50 million dollar flight to the moon aboard a Chinese space liner. He smiles with pride that he could be working under a man of such greatness and individual achievement. A true American!
Down the street he hears that the protesters are getting an early start. When he leased the trailer last year, the property owner warned him that it was only two blocks away from the assigned protest area just outside of town. He sneers at the sound. "Probably them darn Muslims again wanting their prayer time increased back to five times a day. They should be happy we give them two!"
It's getting late, Joe realizes he better get ready for work. He looks around for a moment, then up to the heavens, and thanks Jesus for all his blessings.
Barack Obama's America
Penelope Pantywipe wakes up at 10:30 am. She turns on her computer and reads the latest headlines. Looks like President Obama has called for another tax increase. She smiles at the good news. She receives a government subsidy for her business, "Penelope's Playhouse" --a small school that teaches sex education to kindergarteners. She checks her email, but there is no word yet as to whether her government grant to teach safe gay sex has been approved. She's not worriedit is only a matter of time.
Getting up from her government required (and exorbitantly expensive) ergonomic chair, she leisurely walks to the shower. "Darn," Penelope mutters. "No hot water again." The solar heater has been on the blink lately and what with the constant brown outs since Obama outlawed fossil fuels, she is glad her apartment has big windows to keep it well lighted and warm.
After her shower she dresses before enjoying a cup of green tea and a bowl of granola. It is now 12:15 and she must get going. Her assistant Joy is out all week taking care of her domestic partner, making the most of the mandated 41 days paid sick leave.
After putting her bag in the trunk Penelope notices that she forgot to plug in her car again. Darn. She locks the garage door and walks the 13 blocks to the bus stop. On the way to work she is startled by the explosion of a demolition team destroying the Baptists church to build another of the government's new Marxist Learning Centers. She falls back asleep against the window.
At work she sees that Hector the landscaper is there trimming the hedges. She says "Good morning," but Hector gives her a puzzled look since he doesn't speak English. Penelope pays the look no mind, and tells Hector to be sure to thank Jesus, the illegal Mexican who runs all the landscaping crews, for the fine work they are doing.
From Idle Wordship
