WARNING: This post is sexually suggestive and/or politically incorrect but all events are pure fiction and only the demented creation of my mind....maybe...muahahahaha!
(Bert and Bertha are NSA analysts)
Bert: Another boring night.
Bertha: No shit! Hey, let's have some fun.
Bert: (In a whispered voice) They might be watching.
Bertha: Who's they? We are they. (Snicker, snicker)
Bert: (Looks left and right conspiratorially). Ok.
Bertha: No friggin' way. Biden is online and his webcam is live. (The main flat screen comes to life. The VP is seated at his desk wearing a tank top and athletic shorts.)
**********
Biden: Baby you look so good caressing that double barreled shotgun.
Internet Babe: Oh yeah. The metal is so shiny, smooth, and........hard.
Biden: It won't fire right if the steel wasn't hard....hee hee hee.
Internet Babe: Ahhhhh...Joey, I love it when it fires its buck shot. The barrels might be short but the blast is huge!
(NSA analysts rolling on floor laughing.)
**********
Bert: Here's a good one. Lois Lerner (IRS supervisor who claimed the 5th) is on her cell with Werfel (interim chief of IRS).
Bertha: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heard Werfel wants her to testify now.
**********
Lerner: Fu*% you Dan! Miller (recently resigned IRS commish) said if I pled the 5th and stayed quiet Obama would bring me into the West Wing!
Werfel: Things change Lois. We and the service are really under the gun...
Lerner: So I'm to take the fall! You're full of shit. I won't do it.
Werfel: You have to. This comes straight from the top. Refuse and your career is dead.
Lerner: If you throw me under the bus certain photos of you and that cute intern from the mail room might find there way to Mrs. Werfel.
Werfel: You're bluffing.
Lerner: I never bluff, you lil bitch.
**********
Bertha: I think she has bigger balls than he does.
Bert: No shit. Her husband must be a man of steel or wears an apron.
Bertha: Want to spy on POTUS?
Bert: Bertha no.
Bertha: Come on Bert. Michelle is home and the camera in the presidential suite is activated.
Bert: You think he suspects we're spying on him?
Bertha: No way! He's too drunk with power.
**********
Obama: How was your day dear.
Michelle: Don't you "dear" me! I wanted to cold cock this bitch who was heckling me. Can I order the Secret Service to rough her up?
Obama: No Michelle. The Secret Service isn't your own little Gestapo.
Michelle: Then I want you to call Waffle and have her audited.
Obama: You mean Werfel...
Michelle: Damn it Barack, I don't care what his fu#+ing name is. Just have that bitch audited and drain her dry.
Obama: (Caressing her shoulder) Michelle relax. Let me soothe that tension...
Michelle: Get off me! You're still in the dog house for flirting with that ThaiPrime Minister. Whore!.
Obama: But babe I wasn't flirting and that was last November.
Michelle: (Says nothing and points to the door.)
Obama: (Walks out of the bedroom. Secret Service agent hands him a blanket and pillow.). Oval Office, sir?
Obama: (dejected). Yeah.
**********
Bertha: I fu$@ing love his job.
Bert: Me too.
Posted with Blogsy
No comments:
Post a Comment