Flyin’ The Ointment

To continue yesterday’s saga of the failed presidential mission to convince the International Olympic Committee to award the 2016 games to Chicago, the liberal glitterati on Air Force One returning from the meeting did not take the news of their defeat at all well. No one conceded that Brazil and Rio de Janeiro had a legitimate claim on the prize. No, they lost because the hated George Bush had poisoned the well of international relations to such an extent that the IOC could not bring themselves to even consider giving the 2016 games to a country that could produce a George W. Bush. And to make matters worse, press accounts indicate the intercom was not functioning well, no doubt the fault of George Bush as well. After all, had he not taken several trips on that very same airplane?

 

 

The intercom on Air Force One

Crackled as they raced the sun

Across the wide Atlantic dimly seen

Assembled Dems and friends of O

Gathered for the blow by blow

Surrounding their Chicago king and queen

Oprah shouted out in glee

That when the whitesheet IOC

Trembled when they heard Obama speak

She knew the game was now in hand

They’d won again and full command

Was clearly in the grasp of all they seek

The crackling voice gave all a scare

They heard the fragment “de Janeir”

And wondered to themselves what did it mean

“It means Bushhitler’s still alive,”

Obama cried, “no mat I strive

To cleanse our country of his rotten name

It’s clear those white folks won’t accept

That black folks run the world except

For the every four year ‘Lympic game”

The saddened libs returned to seats

To mutter oaths and bitter bleats

Still blaming Bush for all that could go wrong

Then music made the big man frown

As Frank sang Chi is my home town

And Obie screamed to shut down that damn song