Showing posts with label Campaign Ads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Campaign Ads. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Christine O'Donnell Isn't A Witch, Just Like Richard Nixon Isn't A Crook, & Larry Craig Isn't A Man-Tail Scouring, Self-Hating Homo!


America's #1 puritan, self-pleasure-free, meatball-gobbling witch Christine O'Donnell has emerged from her self-imposed exile to avoid further humiliation on national TV every time she opens her adorable, scholarly mouth, with a brand spanking new, first-ever general election ad.

And now that she's rested, rejuvenated and perfected the ditzy substitute teacher with a steamy hot secret "I just banged a student in the backseat of my Dodge Neon" look, complete with sophisticated crisp black blazer and shiny pearls, Christine O'Donnell is ready to talk about the pressing issues facing America, not the innocent, youthful indiscretions of her wet 'n wild, Wiccan-dabbling past.

And boy does Miss Christine really cast a spell on the nation with this one!

Her intro: "I'm not a witch. I'm nothing you've heard." Really? Really, Christine? Nothing?? Oh brother. And also: "I'm you." You're me?

Wait, so this is just some horrifying nightmare where we're watching ourselves morph from some dumb-as-Delaware, college sleazebag, Hare Krishna/Buddhism/Witchcraft-dabbling Creationist whore whose sudden epiphany that Jesus Christ wants her to stop touching her private parts, prompts us to start downing meatballs, denounce science & all rational thought, and run for Delaware Senate instead?

And, we're also all insane liars and chronically unemployed 41-year-old virgins whose grasp of science is limited to the belief that evil, mad geneticists are busy splicing humans and mice together in some sick, twisted liberal plot to fill the world with Chuck E. Cheese Armies?

Hmmm, she does have a point there.

But, if Christine is us, then who are we?

Oh. My. God. We're all some deranged Teabaggin' Monica Lewinsky/Sarah Palin hybrid, channeling our inner 90's slutty intern to save the world from evil masturbation, one skillful blowjob at a time??

Not a witch, huh? Fine, let's just split the difference and burn the bitch instead!

"I Did Not Have Sexual Relations With That Woman."

"I Did Not Have Satanic Rituals With That Wiccan."

"I Did Not Have Sexual Relations With My Hand."

Saturday, August 21, 2010

No Country For Embittered Old Men


"America, Arizona we're all struggling. I can't think of a time in my life when we had bigger or more vital issues at stake than today."

In fact, Gramps over here can't remember very much of anything these days!

Ehhh, where was I? Ah, yes...

"The rebuilding of our economy, the security of our nation, our border, and the safety of every citizen in Arizona."

So long as their white, legal, and not streaming 'cross Juarez like a bunch of dirty border-jumpin' cockroaches, John McCain will protect 'em...and he doesn't even need to speak in complete sentences to prove it.

So goes the latest campaign ad from our favorite AARP celebrity, America's grandfather John McCain, appropriately titled "vital" because nothing's more vital than an old man's vital signs failing as he wanders aimlessly through the desert in a demented haze, searching for whatever it is that Alzheimer's ravaged washed-up, almost-octogenarian statesman think they'll find in the parched desert wilderness of the American West (their principles/integrity/soul?).

I sure hope Johnny's not still wandering endless sand dunes looking for his pants. No matter how many times you tell him he's already wearing 'em, he never seems to remember!

And the wild, untamed Arizona desert is certainly no place for a frail old man in a cute "Navy" hat, faded jeans, and button-down blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up all adorable just like Meghan taught him, (ummm,what happened to completing the danged sleeve roll-up!?) to walk limp around all by his lonesome, without fearless, heat-packin' Grizzlies like Sarah or Nazi Governor Jan Brewer to protect him.

Just think of all the dangers Johnny could run into out there, alone in the vast, unforgiving desert! There's snakes, scorpions, spiders, his long-lost, even more ancient relative, the dreaded Gila monster, wild coyotes, and of course, the most spine-tingling threat of 'em all: scary citizenship-seeking brown people from Mexico innocently singing La Bamba en route to destroying America's once pure, beautiful, monochromatic white culture. Arrrrrggggghhhh!

Oh no, the dehydration must have gotten to him first because now Johnny's seeing a mirage: There are happy Arizonans here in the desert with him. And, thankfully they're all-white like him and also very much want to hear what J Mac has to say. That's a very nice thought, old man. Tell them about rebuilding the economy, or maybe how you beat those dang Vietcong with nothing but a piece of twine, your own resolve, and the unshakable belief you can do anything if you really put your mind to it. Cept maybe not crashing your plane deep inside enemy territory and getting captured alive.

"I proudly stood up for our state, (even if I need a nice comfy chair now). Never backed down. My father and grandfather taught me and I've taught my children: service before self. If ever there was a time to honor that code, that time is now. We will get America back on course, we will return Arizona to safety and prosperity. Working together we can improve the lives of every Arizona family."

Err, make that every decent white NATURAL citizen who didn't cross a border or jump on a boat to get here. Or at least had the common decency to do that a loooooooong time ago, before it was bad and everyone hated them for it.

"I appreciate your support, I ask for your vote."

Hell, he'll do just about anything for it (including beg!). Hate Mexicans? Him too! Love guns? Same here! Wanna keep gross gays away from the altar? He's with ya! Can't stand poor people? Ugh, neither can he! Worried about half-black Socialist presidents destroying America? Ditto for Gramps!

Because for John McCain, "character matters." DISCLAIMER: void where prohibited, like when running for political office, during hotly contested Senate primaries, or any other time the whole "character" thing is really more trouble than its worth. Which incidentally, much like his urge to "go" in the middle of the night, happens to be occurring with more and more frequency.

But a hearty thank you to John McCain, the original maverick-turned-Desperado (in the sad, desperate, not Antonio Banderas badass kind of way), for using this wonderful ad to send a very important message to voters: "John McCain: Not Dead Yet!"

You'd be surprised how long you can go on ticking after your mind, soul, principles, and dignity have all long left you. Hell, Dick Cheney can do it without a heart or a pulse, so eat that Johnny! But just remember to take your dentures out first...

Oh and big props to the old man for also enlightening America about the variations among states in their treatment of the elderly.

In Alaska, they set the Old People adrift on an ice floe when they no longer serve a purpose. In Arizona, they apparently take 'em out to the desert to hallucinate & wander aimlessly for the rest of their days, as sweet (and by the looks of it, swift) justice for cruelly wooing Alaskan vultures out of their igloos, and unleashing the scavenging beasts upon the rest of us "fresh carcasses" residing in those parts of the county not yet overrun with moose and/or Mexicans.

But, I sure hope he makes his way home soon…the buzzards are starting to circle. Oh wait never mind, that's just Cindy, Megs, G.I. Jan, SarBear, and the rest of his favoritest gaggle of gal pals. Phew!

Good thing, they prefer their meat a little fresher, without that leathery gristle, and bitter old man aftertaste.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

"Complete The Danged Fence," So John McCain Can Keep The Mexicans Out & Himself In The Senate


After losing whatever semblance of a sane mind still remained in the ol' tank, due to a powerful combination of both the scorching desert heat and a horseback riding nutjob gunning for the old man's senate seat, John McCain suddenly realized there's really nowhere farther to fall once you've reached rock bottom.

Which can be so freeing! Because now old man McCain can do whatever his li'l cold heart desires, without having to worry about silly things like consequences. A win-win situation for everyone! Err, except those damn Mexicans, but who really cares about them anyway?

Certainly not Johnny! Or at least not since 2008, when he traded his soul for something much better than any dumb, gross immigrant--the chance to lose the White House with a sexy moose huntin' mama from Alaska, whose killer ability to wink makes up for her killer inability to speak coherent sentences on, umm, anything ('cept killin' moose of course!).

So now that Johnny's free as a bird from any and all expectations of possessing even the slightest bit of morals or integrity, the original maverick-turned-running joke can flip-flip like a hooked fish, senile old man, the devil himself, or whatever it takes to win, baby win!

Even star in his own, god-awful, desperate campaign ad titled, "Complete The Danged Fence," where he pretends to be a nice, sane old man having a normal, everyday "conversation" with a sheriff, while casually strolling through the desert, about what the hell to do with those darn border-hoppers infesting the once proud, once beautiful, once-white desert of Arizona.

That way, he can prove to the concerned white pointed hat and matching robe wearing citizens back home that he is not in any way, shape, or form some arugula-eating, Mexican-lovin' softy who wants to create a pathway to citizenship for even a single one of the no-good stinkin' Mexican jumping beans hoppin' every which way, 'til every last one of 'em ends up rapin' and killin' in the white man's state of Aryanzona.

No sir-ee!

Instead, he gets to wear an awesome NAVY hat (to show the world he means business and maybe remind the folks 'bout those few years spent in a Vietnamese prison, for freedom!), while having a hairless sheriff (so you know you can trust him) pretend his plan to "complete the danged fence" is the most brilliant solution to immigration since the Final Solution figured out how to finally rid Europe of those pesky Jews.

Then, to really seal the deal, Mr. Clean, the sheriff, can look you, John S. McCain, straight in the eye and proudly declare, "Senator, you're one of us."

And you can die happy and fulfilled, knowing that you too are a paranoid, racist old coot with no backbone, and even less principles.

In other words, the esteemed living fossil and still-proud GOP senator from the newly-gated, parched desert retirement community known as Arizona.

But you can just call it by its new name, Guantánamo.

Más o menos.

Sí, Se Puede Race-Bait To Win!