Walk of Shame
For those few readers not familiar with the concept of the Walk of Shame, a working definition may be found here. Careful, some strong language at the link.
‘Puter’s fearful that a sizable chunk of the electorate’s going to be doing the walk of shame within a few months of Sen. Obama taking the oath of office, when they see Him and His policies in the clarifying (and terrifying) light of day. Sen. Obama is good looking, has great political pick up lines, works the racial conciliation angle, speaks like Kennedy without the annoying Boston accent and could charm the husk right off of the corn. Or the vote out of your pocket. But when you get right down to it, Sen. Obama has told us exactly nothing about Himself or His leftist positions. Sen. Obama is a blank slate onto which voters are projecting their own personal definitions of “hope” and “change.” In few cases are the voters’ ideas and Sen. Obama’s ideas of “hope” and “change” going to coincide, unless you happen to be somewhere to the left of Markos Moulitsas. And when voters realize they’ve been had, they’re going to as ashamed as that hungover college freshman making the walk back to her dorm after being seduced by a senior who wanted nothing more from her than a quick roll in the hay.
I think Steve Martin’s character in Roxanne, C.D. Bales, summed it up best when speaking to Darryl Hannah’s character Roxanne Kowalski, when he said, “You still went to bed with him awfully fast! A few frilly words and you’re counting ceiling tiles.”
A few frilly words from Sen. Obama, and America’s electorate’s suddenly got round heels.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.