On Tap

Obama had a beer summit

The beer was freely pouring

Like his bail out of the bankers

He only served the foreign

The Boxer Short

Barbara Boxer’s wound up tight

Unflinching and unbending

But when the Black folk come in sight

She’s over condescending

 

Barbara Boxer she is classy

Just don’t call her mame

She don’t like Black folk who are sassy

They must scrape and kiss her hand

 

If any Black folk speak their mind

With thinking independent

Her liberalism turns unkind

You best had better end it

 

Black folk better know there places

And bite their upper lip

Don’tcha dare leave the democrat’s plantation

And expose a hypocrite

Life moments

A beer to heal our souls and thirst

A moment that is teachable

There is no record of this birth

A moment that’s impeachable

Trade-In

The government wants your clunker

Your jalopy and total wreck

They can print any amount of money

To cover the government check

Turn Left at Central America

Castro and Obama

Like minds think together

They agree Honduras must be

A haven for dictators

Drinks on the House (Congress)

The government wants to tax your fizz

What you drink is government biz

Be it root beer or soda pop

They’ll take their cut right off the top

We once rejected a tax on tea

When we believed in liberty

Let all tyrants die and choke

In Boston harbor dump the coke

Promises,Promises

Obama made a promise

And so the sheeple voted

Now, who’s a doubting Thomas

It’s all way over-bloated

Cosmetic Urgency

The Dems are seeking taxes

In many different places

As in services cosmetic

As in the lifting of the faces

 

If you desire transplants

Instead of getting a rug

The IRS will do its best

To charge you by the plug

 

The Democrats need money

Taxes are going up

So if you get a boob job

There’s a tax-rate by the cup

 

The Dems demand their pound of flesh

In the trimming of the noses

And there’s a value added tax

In attaching lypo hoses

 

In removing your love-handles

The waist tax really pinches

But to have a penile enlargement

Will raise your tax by inches

The Obama Mantra

Pass my Bill

Pass my Bill

I’ll say it loud

I’ll say it shrill

Pass it Now

Do it this minute

Just don’t ask me

What is in it.

Synapse Collapse

The Obama media

Adores the words that he delivers

Up and down their collective legs

March goose-steps and quick shivers

La Vida Chihuahua

You were the pitch-dog for Taco Bell

You advertised their crunchy shell

You promoted their tostada

“Yo Quiero” was your motto

Your pitch went on, so long and yappy

Twas not your fault the food tastes crappy

You got paid by Taco Bell

That’s what made you wag your tail

You promoted spicy food

With bravado and with attitude

We bid farewell, cute little fellow

Rest in Peace in doggie cielo

Journalist outlives journalism

Walter Cronkitet was an achor

Who told it as it was

Today it’s rancor &  proganda

Lies for the leftist cause

Citing the Masters

Sotomayor proudly declares

Her mentors and influences

Raymond Burr has guided her

With Perry Mason’s nuances

Telecide

Obama’s teleprompter

Had enough of lying speeches

To kill itself

It jumped the shelf

Now shattered, lies in pieces

Obama Unplugged

I heard the President give a speech

His words were as smooth as butter

But then his rhetoric overreached

He began to stammer and stutter

Alot of himms and humms and ahhs

And nervous staccato laughter

Each sentence was lacking a dependent clause

He paused as to think what comes after

His flash of composure was quickly regained

He spoke on without any glitches

It was then that I knew that Obama’s brain

Was controlled by his Teleprompt switches

Sotomenor

Of Sotomayor we stand in awe

Her rulings have never followed the law

The media plays her noble back-story

Skin color for her is a category

She believes in E Pluribus Division

Race has colored her every decision

She divides Americans into types and classes

That is how liberals control the masses

Her statements on their very face is

The opinions of a blatant racist

She smarter than anyone who’s been

Of the opposite sex or lighter skin

Every case that she has tried

Is justice that has been denied

Her overturned rulings  a minor flap

The Constitution is just a scrap

Ten more hurt in Pamplona bull run, one dead

To see a bull

I’ve had my full

Both bulls and cows are boring

But if stampeding

Leads to bleeding

What fun, a fatal goring

Worker dies after fall into Hershey’s-bound chocolate

What is nutritious?

What is yummy?

What’s delicious?

Chocolate Mummy!

Teen Girl Falls In Open Manhole While Texting

A chatty girl, a winsome teen

Was texting on her cell phone screen

Strings of letters for the posting

Teenage gossip’s so engrossing

Such confession, such admitting

Instant messages are twitting

Focused on each word to type

In her path an open sewer pipe

The end of all this teenage chatter

Knee-deep now in fecal matter

The Junket Prez

Weekends in Paris or the isles of Greece

Obama seems to be at peace

He enjoys this living large

With hundreds of his entourage

It’s good to know, he’s living well

While the economy descends to Hell

Work is something he don’t wanna

He’d much prefer to tour Ghana

He bows to every head of state

Like a waiter with a plate

For America he’s apologetic

Presidentially pathetic

Another week, another junket

The Korean test, he surely flunked it

They have attacked us, by all means cyber

Michelle makes sure he gets his fiber

Grope and Change

Stopping all our greenhouse gases
Is Obama's highest duty
Also checking out some asses
He answers to the call of booty

Stabulous

Michael Jackson, King of Pop
Popping pills he could not stop
They helped him dance his way thru Thriller
As his mind was growing iller
His legend grew just like the Beatles
But he popped himself by using needles.
A sign that he was truly sick
He gave himself the final prick

One Liner

For 38 years, the monorail
Never occurred a monofail
The occupants got an extra thrill
By speeding or by standing still
They thought it was a part of the ride
The screeching brakes, the big collide
And though it caused both death and pain
With monorails there is no passing lane

As seen on TV

Willy Mays could hit a pitch
Billy Mays could pitch a hit
Says Billy Mays: “The way to riches;
Get on TV then pitch your pitches
Extol the virtues of oxiclean
Day and night on the TV screen
No need to labor, no need to study
Make your millions pushing putty
No need to labor, no need to toil
Make millions selling used snake oil
Your plane in landing almost crashed
But you have died like your moustache
The overhead luggage and suitcases
Struck your head and other places
You thought that it was nothing major
You did not realize there was danger
It finally happened, what you feared
You have died just like your beard

Dethroned

The King is Dead, The King of Pop
He had the Beat, Why did it stop?
He was white, who once was black
But he dropped dead from a heart attack,
And no more can he lunar step
His way out of enormous Debt.
We feel one sorrow, we feel one love
For a proctologist who wears one glove,
No more will groins be there to grab
His toxic blood is at the lab
With Demerol and Oxycodone
We know his body is not rotton
But the belts and sparkles on this clothes
Will outlast the plastic in his nose
This Peter Pan or Tinkerbell
Who moon-walked backward into Hell
May Mercy find, His Soul be rested
No more can children be molested

Barns by Barney

In our Congress, Barney Frank
Among his peers is Uber-Rank
A member of a class of rulers
In other countries known as mullahs
His taste in sex is rather creepy
He'll give each Indian a government tipi
And demands taxpayers buy the houses
Of all his lovers and their spouses
Free domiciles without a risk
He says it loudly with a lisp
Loans for deadbeats and for felons
Means democratic votes are swellin'
Conservatives can kiss his butt
Each homeless illegal needs a hut
Endless spending, costs be damned
No need to debate, let bills be rammed
What means his constant rubble-rousing
To re-inflate the bubble-housing.

Clear Cutting the Analogs

I have lost my analog TV set
I’m filled with sorrow & regret
I scream with pain, the teardrops flow
I miss the static; I miss the snow
What makes my eyes fill up with tears?
No more can I fondle rabbit ears
My set is a relic, obsolete and out-dated
My programs now are all pixilated
My channel numbers are no more round
They have decimal points that divide and compound
A hundred new stations, some in Spanish or Jap
A thousand new programs, and all of them crap
To watch all these programs I have not the time
My converter box unit didn’t cost me a dime
A gift from the government, a coupon redeemed
A blessing of Socialism, we love the regime
They can tax someone else, as we sink into debt
The Supreme Court gives me rights to a new TV set
Let welfare expand and the benefits bloat
I need my TV set so I know how to vote
A thousand new programs and all of them stink
Without a TV set, how can I think?