lincolnish: (fist of colbert)
I don't understand why certain products exist. I'm all for marketing, who doesn't love a good Geico gecko? They are so cute with their silly little accents. I'm getting one for my daughter for Christmas actually, but don't tell! I hope she doesn't read this. That could ruin stuff.

Geckos and hamburglers and Joe Camels aside, one product in the lucrative sex industry that I don't understand is the Obama condom. What makes it Obama like? Does it make your junk give speeches? Say what you want, Obama fans, but unless your girl is into mutated body parts, I don't think she's going to go down on your talking head.

Maybe the politician who really needs his own condom is Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich, who was recently arrested for a number of charges, among them trying to sell Obama's vacant senate seat to the highest bidder. He knew he was being investigated and only a few days ago he said he had nothing to hide and publicly stated that anyone who wanted to could tape his phone calls. Like the esteemed Dr. House says, "everybody lies". If this guy is going to jail, he may need to give his cellmate Bubba some protection, because you know he's gonna end up as somebody's bitch. It's the way of the streets, yo.

Obama says he knew nothing about this. Hm. For a really smart guy, he sure seems to not know a lot of things. First he didn't know about his pastor, now this. Chicago is like Kentucky, all inbred but with possibly more annoying accents. For him to have not heard anything anywhere at anytime with those big ol' ears of his is pretty unbelievable.

Nation, I gave you the chance to avoid having either an Obama or McCain presidency a long time ago, but did you listen? Nooooooooo. I'm not a serious candidate you said, I'm unelectable you said. Whatever. I still think I would have made a better president than any of the yahoos who ran. The Colbert Nation is very real, but it's not America. I am the glow in the dark Spongebob band-aid that this country needs. Remember your write-ins four years from now, people! You can choose the running mate, I'm not picky, though Mickey Mouse seems cool.
lincolnish: (weather/even stephven)
I don't know why anybody hasn't written about this before but the longest day is CLEARLY when we fall back for Daylight Savings Time. It adds an hour to a twenty four hour day, therefore making it twenty five hours. Done. What's there to debate about? Godless pagan people, don't you dare mention your heathen Summer Solstice. Just because the sun is up in the sky doesn't mean that the day gets any longer. It's still twenty four hours. If your argue with me, you can't count. Ask anyone how long a day is. Ask Jack Bauer. That guy knows what I'm talking about.

Everyone else who responded to this topic is being all metaphorical and whatnot, whining about how agonizing their days are. I'm all for metaphors. My hand is a giant tree made out of Sharpie markers who leak rainbow gold made to cleanse the world from Clifford the Big Red Dog (he's a Commie) and Cher (no I don't believe in life after love). See, that is what literate types call an extended metaphor. I don't read, but I know this anyway. I'm educated. I'm a doctor. And I know how long the longest day is, unlike most of these idiots.
lincolnish: (fig. 1)
Excuse me? No. Why do I need to talk about politics on my own free time just because you asked me to? You didn't even say please. In case you haven't heard, I have my own tv show on which I talk about politics and get PAID for it. If you want to hear me talk about how this country is going down the toilet due to tree huggers, hippies, the "musical stylings" of Barry Manilow, and as always, bears, you're going to have to tune in to Comedy Central on Monday through Thursday nights to do so. I am not your trained monkey. I'm not your trained anything. (Well, except potty trained, but I know that we're all civilized people here. Anyone who still wets the bed is unworthy of reading my blog. Hey you wallowing in the yellow stained chair, yeah you, don't think I can't see you sitting there naked except for your Depends. Get out and take your Clive Owen DVD collection with you. Leave the prunes, they're mine.)

I'm sure you expected me to rant and be predictable and give you a good laugh. Well the jokes' on you, expectant people! Take this prompt and stick it on the TV, then wait for 11:30 pm Eastern time to roll around. If you don't, I know of another place where you can stick it. I'll answer this on my own time, nevermind that by the time you see my show, it'll be a recording. If you don't care enough to be one of my flock in person then you don't deserve to have instant access to the goods. Yes, that reference was sexual, just in case you were wondering.
lincolnish: (our leader)
Ok,  yeah, this quote is total bullshit. Do you know what really grows on you when you get older? Gray hairs. Gray with an a because that's the AMERICAN way to do it, I don't want to hear this gray with an e crap. That makes it grey then it's not gray anymore. Firefox spell check doesn't even count it as a word, so there.

Anyway, gray hair grows on your head if you're lucky. A lot of people go bald, now I am a Catholic and I respect the church as much as anybody, but I'm not ready to go around looking like a monk anytime soon. I'm a brother, but not that kind of brother.

Luckily, I only have a few stray GRAY hairs around my temples. Yes, I know from far away it looks like I have jet black hair that would blend in perfectly with the night sky, but look closely and you'll see the GRAYS. I refuse to die my hair, that's for girls.

You know what else grows on old people? Warts. I don't have any but my Grandpa Fred did. When I was eight I told him that he looked like a pirate ship with barnacles all over it. He kicked my ass, literally. Damn, Grandpa had some pointy boots. Old people also have GRAY hair that grows out of their ears and nose. They also eat at the Golden Corral a lot and go to sleep at 4:30. Getting old isn't about happy endings. It's about prune juice and potlucks and bingo every Thursday at your local rec center.
lincolnish: (captain america)
I live in the greatest country in the world with the greatest family in world and the greatest dog in the world is currently drooling on the greatest shoes in the world. Get down, Ripper! Don't you know that these things cost more than your designer dog biscuits?! Crazy lil guy.

The biggest problem is that I'm away from the greatest state in the world. As you all should know, I'm from South Carolina, but due to people being bigoted toward's America's Heartland, I had to move. I wound up in the belly of the beast itself - New York City. I know that it could be worse and I could have been living in a hippie tent made out of dope in San Fransico, but the devil and his temptations are everywhere here! It's not  called the Big Apple for nothing! Satan wants you to take a big ol' chomp and fall into his evil plots to doom humanity!

[this is where the total crack plot that we've been working on comes in, if your muse doesn't want to play or acknowledge it, I totally inderstand]

I always thought that the color purple was stupid, not the Oprah color purple thing, but the actual color. It's for girls and gays. My beautiful daughter with hair of violet has completely changed my mind about this. When I breathe in her jasmine scent, all I can think about is how lucky I am to have such a great offspring who is such an asset to the Colbert Nation. Just wait until she takes on the Chinese singlehandedly! The Chinks'll do anything for jasmine. Those Chinese sons of bitches are going down.

Going down of course with the help of the mastermind behind Stark Industries, Tony Stark himself. He encourages my love of nukes. He even let me draw a smiley face on one once. I think that one went to Iraq. I hope it killed a turban guy. But he doesn't count as part of my home I don't think. Just because I impregnated a man to make a completely perfect purple haired winged baby that some would call a Mary Sue doesn't make me gay. 

OOC: Muses referred to in this are [personal profile] aestarkand [profile] xaxayayana.
lincolnish: (on notice)
I fucking hate mimes. They come from France. By default everything from France sucks, especially the men, and you know exactly what they suck on. How can you trust a mime? They have all that makeup that they hide behind and if you haven't noticed, they wear the same clothes that prisoners wear. Coincidence? I think not. Clowns are inherently evil. Mimes are clowns. Therefore using the transitive property of Colbert Knows All, you should know that mimes are evil.

I would tell you to not listen to them, but that's not necessary since mimes don't talk. I'm pretty sure people's larynxs are removed along with their souls when they become a mime.

I wonder what possesses people to become mimes. Well, self, wonder no longer, I'll tell you. It's all people who sold their souls. Mimes are probably rich beyond measure, in the process of saving a loved one from death, or even worse, immortal. Marcel Marceau is famous. And he's a mime. I rest my case.

Mimes, you're on notice.

Headlines

Feb. 27th, 2008 02:38 am
lincolnish: (stephen save us)


It's bad enough that the Browns even get in newspapers at all. They suck, always have and always will. Sucky things shouldn't get into newspapers, but they do all the time. Just ask Monica Lewinsky.

Anywayyy JUST LOOK AT THE HEADLINE! Do I even need to explain myself here? They're getting noticed for sex that isn't sex. It's non-sex-wordplay-sex. Bad reporter for writing this joke of an article, bad! I could do better than you, you schmuck. Then again, I do better than everybody, especially Murphy Brown. The show she's on doesn't even have her name in the title. Pathetic.

And what do you mean "Booty could get call"? That's worse than a girl doing any actual teasing. First you have non-sex in print, now you're teasing the readers about this non-sex. Newspaper With Words Written On You, are you or are you not having non-sex? Tell the truth, and yes I will judge you. You shouldn't be having could be booty calls until marriage. I don't see a rubber band around you, you can't trick me. I know that's your types' version of a wedding ring.

Good people, evidence like this is what makes me reaffirm my beliefs. Nation - teach your newspapers about abstinence
lincolnish: (rock you like a)
It's about time you people finally got your heads on straight. Everyone should know that I'm the best dancer. Apparently it took you two years to figure that out. I even had the videos to prove it! I'm not a great dancer... I'm the greatest dancer. Yet twice Tammy and her awards came around and twice she spurned me. Can you even name the winners from the last year? No, you can't. But you know my name. Why is this, dear people. It's because I'm great and misunderstood, that's why.

For the third time I was nominated and this year I finally won. It's about time, but I still don't think you're a bunch of it-getters. I'm pretty sure it was just name recognition on the ballot. Everyone knows who I am. I don't need your charity. I want to know that you really do think I am the best dancer, because I am. Time and again you have told me that my moves aren't good enough for your silly yet oh so shiny golden ass. Now I'm suddenly good enough? I was always good enough. I still am and always will be. When I'm old I'm going to have more geezer moves than that Six Flags guy with the glasses that are far inferior to mine.

Now tell me how great of a dancer I am and prove to me that you were one of the smart voters. If you didn't vote, you should have, but tell me how great I am anyway. And feel free to throw in more compliments while you're at it.

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Dr. Stephen T. Colbert, DFA

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