Didio’s Weblog

Just another WordPress.com weblog

BARACK OBAMA PLAYS GOLF WITH RUSH LIMBAUGH’S BALLS!

leave a comment »

rushball

Shortly after feinting sorrow over the horrendous murder of an American journalist, our fearless reporter went undercover as Barack Obama’s caddy in a Martha’s Vineyard private golf course. He had only a few minutes to disguise himself before President Obama frolicked from a makeshift podium to the first tee but, to our delight, he pulled it off. Here is Boofeeder’s own John Q. Public’s report:

At hole number one, Mr. Obama twisted and bent to the rapping of N.W.A.. Moments after “Damn, that shit was dope”, Obama threw a fist in the air then turned to me to say ” Ah, boy! Ah, toss me one my, ah, balls. Feeling dope today! Give me Rush Limbaugh’s ball out of the sac. C’mon boy! It’s going to be a good damn day!”

I reached in the side pocket of his golf bag that was decorated with a profile of Obama at the Arc De Triomphe and a presidential seal below his shoulders. There were dozens of balls with photo’s printed on them. Glenn Beck, John Boehner, Sean Hannity and Bill O’Reilly slipped through my hands before I found Rush’s face.

“Damn boy! Give me that Limbaugh ball toot freakin sweet! I’m gonna smack the snot out of that cracker! Ah, you going to have to pick up the pace boy. I’ll be lucky to get in eighteen before some knucklehead interrupts me with another damn news piece I don’t give a rat’s ass about. Boy! I said now!” He demanded.

I handed him the ball and a request ” Mr. Obama? I respectfully ask that you not refer to me as ‘boy’. I’m a man. Served in Iraq and Afghanistan and now a police officer in Boston. Being your caddy today was an honor I proudly volunteered for and graciously accepted. I am not a ‘boy’. My name is John.” Mixing in fact with fiction made me feel like a politician but as they say ‘when in Rome…’.

“Ahh. You think ‘boy’ is offensive? Listen here boy, it’s only degrading when a white honky calls you that. But, ah, from one black man to another, ‘boy’ is a ‘nom de noir’. Nom de Noir! Just made that up, boy! You like…” As Obama was slapping himself on the back while bending over to put Limbaugh’s ball on the tee, his Blackberry jingled to an old gansta rap rhyme by Ice-T.

“Ah, yessir. Yessir. I know that sir. But..” he said in a lower voice as he kicked Limbaugh off the perch then continued ” Sir? Eric said it was okay. He said he got it from you that I should keep it cool and play golf today. Oh, you didn’t? What’s that George? Ah, yeah. I know. Yep, I did call him ‘Jim’ not James, but that’s what Eric…yessir. Good bye Mr. Soros. I’ll clean it up right after this vacation. Bye”. With that Obama teed up the ball with Rush Limbaugh facing directly at the club head and gave it a hard whack. “Take that El Honky!” he shouted.

The ball flew out about one hundred yards then took a nasty slice to the left and splashed into a creek. We got into the golf cart personalized with the presidential seal painted on the front, back and roof. I drove up to where the ball went out of bounds but Obama told me to move on up another fifty yards. He demanded another Rush ball and, after two mishits, landed the golf ball into a sand trap bordering the perfectly manicured green. The president walked past the trap and ordered me to toss him another ball “Ah, let’s have Nancy Pelosi boy. And, ah, hand me that putter with the rubber front. Can’t hurt Nancy! Always use a rubber when you spanking a woman like that, boy! Yep, put her lips on my balls, I did. Used one of those photo engraving machines in my spare time. You know, ah, when the folks in the cracker house get busy with writing talking points for me and my minions. Chris Matthews and all them at MSNBC, ABC, NBC, CBS all get told what to say so what else am I to, ah, do? I asked George if it was okay if I took up a hobby and he said ‘Balack, why don’t you go in the basement and play with your balls?’ And so I did! Started out pasting pictures on my balls then Michelle said ‘Brack! Get with it man. There’s a machine for stamping your balls. Use it or I’ll stamp on your balls myself!  Josh will bring one down to you. You stay put Brack. When George says it’s okay, I’ll come get you and your balls my damn self. You got that?’

The president laughed at the innuendo’s then tapped Nancy Pelosi on her inflated lips. The ball came up short of the hole but Obama picked it up and said to me “Ah, I’ll take a three on that boy. Birdied the first hole! That’s the way to start a round! Told you, boy, it was going to be a glorious day for me!”

Again, I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut and told him that there’s no way I could write down a ‘3’ on the scorecard that was printed with Barack Obama’s image and titled “Hope, Change, Fairways and Greens”. In reality it took him no less than ten strokes to get his balls in the hole. “Sir, one in the creek, two out, hitting three then swinging and missing twice before bouncing it in the trap, that’s six. You skipped the sand bunker to place a Pelosi ball five feet from the hole, that’s seven, eight. Then missed the putt and picked it up declaring a ‘gimme’, that’s nine, ten strokes on a par four. And you say to give you a three? No sir. In the name of integrity for the game, I can’t do that. Sir. And sir? My name is John, not Boy.”

“Boy! I told you that it’s only bigoted to call a black man ‘boy’ when it’s an albino bacon bits belegana saying it! Damn, boy, you know I am the POTUS, right? I can do whatever the hell I want to do. Rules, regulations, laws? That’s for little people, not top dawgs like me! Shit, boy, you know who I am? Playing this game of golf? It’s like ruling the world. I put the enemy’s face on a piece of wood and smash him, or her if you’re talking about that Palin or one of them Fox News girlies, and watch it go into oblivion. That’s, ah, war, my boy. One of these days a golf course will be just like the world I was promised to rule. George and Eric say that in a perfect world, the golf course of politics will be one big ass open field kept mowed by, ah, ‘surfs’ is what they said, whatever that means, with one humungous hole the size of New York City in the center. One world, one nation! With moi at the middle of it all! Yessir boy. You stick with me and I’ll….” Obama broke off his maniacal rant to take another call.

“Where? Free Go Son? Fergie’s Son? Sheeit, Eric, you going where? For what? Oh yeah, Josh told me about that. Damned white aryan cop murdered that innocent young brother. Ah, yep, Josh called me yesterday while I was on the ninth hole ’bout that. Cost me an eagle! Had to take a bird there. I took Glenn Beck and whipped his conspiring white cheeks in the lake. Cost me an eagle Eric! Yeah, ah, you go there and tell them I’m thinking of all them black people, ah, victims. You make sure of that, okay?”

The POTUS turned up the speakers in the cart with Capone N Noreaga screaming “100 channels, turn station, operation 140, Earthquake would bring glory, Noreaga, but for short just call me Nore Catagory, point-blank end of the story”. Obama said “Now that’s dope, boy! Boy? Boy? Where you going boy?”

It was more than I could take. I wiped off the charcoal and turned my white honky-ass face back to Barack Obama and said ” From one ‘boy’ to another: Your balls are all wet!” then tossed all his golf balls in the drink and ran like a scared cat back to my SUV and drove away with three black Cadillac’s chasing me. As I rounded the turn losing the Secret Service back at the gate, I saw Barack Obama kissing what looked like the Sister Souljah ball that slipped out of my hand at the second hole.

End of report.

 

 

 

Advertisements

Written by boofeeder

August 22, 2014 at 2:26 pm

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: