Inauguration Distress
Afishionados,
Uncle Sam has decided that certain items are forbidden at President (Yes, PRESIDENT, not President-Elect. Fuck Bush) Obama’s inauguration. Some things on the list make sense, like… Well, none of the stuff on the list makes sense, actually. But it’s the government we’re talking about here, so it’s not supposed to make sense. If it did, then the world as we know it would probably explode. Only in a world where I am married to Leighton Meester can the United States government do something right.
One of the items on the list is an umbrella. Clearly this is to keep away British spies. We can’t allow just anyone to drop in, sing songs, and try and get us to feed the birds.
Backpacks are not permitted either. And for good reason. The last thing we need is some nutcase to come in with a backpack hoping to shoot a spook. No, we definitely can’t have that.
Strollers are also on the list, which you might think is dumb. And it is (I said it was the government, didn’t I?). But allowing strollers means someone could sneak in secret weapons far worse than guns or explosives.
But at least we’re safe from the terrorists, right?
I wondr if all o these calls,
Fer inaugural protocols,
Dmand that Ms Meester,
Mus keep her fine keistr,
Away from th presidents balls.
(Ah, but we aint doin THAT no more, are we?)
I think SUV strollers should be banned from damn near everywhere. If your kid can’t walk – keep him at home. They take up too much room and people seem to use them as battering rams.
Joey: I was decapitated.
Chickie: Children should never leave the house. Unless you get a good price when you sell them.
Since i’ll be in DC for this event, i will make sure all things go to plan
Joey:
Obama can go to D.C.
But leave Leighton Meester with me.
We’ll call Keira Knightley
And ask her politely
To make it a party of three.
To manage two chicks, I woud say,
Keep each out of th othrs way.
To make things go right,
Lay Leighton all night,
And screw Keira Knightley all day.
Though two babes may seem like a chore
And the friction might make me real sore
But I’ve got a big bed
And I love my celebs
So there’s always some room for one more
Oh good grief, if they shot a spook we wouldn’t have a president anymore.
Do I have to explain everything to you?