"Uh... Let me be frank... That blinding bald spot is... uh... making me forget... uh... what you just said." Image via Wikipedia
If you’re tired of the same old President Barack Obama jokes (teleprompter? 57 states?), then this page of original Obama jokes should get you through your fix.
*****
PRESIDENT OBAMA RUNS OUT OF MONEY
President Obama was dining out one night and was about to order dessert when a presidential aide whispered into his ear, “Mr. President, I apologize for interrupting, but you’re out of money.”
“Let me be clear,” President Obama said, “that is just partisan right-wing fear mongering.”
“No, Mr. President,” the aide continued. “Your personal budget is out of money. We need your permission to pull money from another part of the budget and put it into your account.”
The president and his aide spoke of money and budgets for a few minutes, and when the aide left, Obama relaxed by watching the restaurant television. A montage of public figures being physically assaulted was being played on a news show. Some guy was throwing a shoe at a former president from a few years ago. A couple political speakers got hit in the face with pies. A couple presidential candidates from the opposing party got glitter bombed.
As President Obama watched and grinned, he noticed a child approaching him, holding something suspicious. Before Obama could react, Secret Service agents jumped on the child, throwing him to the floor and frisking him.
“Why were you rushing the president?” one agent, gun drawn, said to the boy.
“Mmmfff, rrmmmfff, bbmmmfff,” the boy said, his face mashed against the floor.
“Mr. President, this appears to be a piggy bank,” another agent said. He shook the piggy and added, “There seems to be money inside.”
After agents released the child, the boy regained his composure and said to President Obama, “Mr. President, I heard that you ran out of money, and I’d like to help.” He took his piggy bank from the Secret Service agent and gave it to the president. “I hope this is enough to pay your bill.”
One of the aides whispered to Obama, “Mr. President, you can’t accept money from a child.”
“Let me be frank,” President Obama replied. “He’s going to have to pay for my spending sooner or later, so he might as well start now.”
*****
PRESIDENT OBAMA TALKS ABOUT SACRIFICE
President Obama was speaking at a press conference in between debt ceiling negotiations with Republicans. Compromise was uncertain, and Obama was complaining about the lack of cooperation from his political opponents.
“Let me be clear,” President Obama said. “I will not rest until this nation’s financial stability is… uh… secured, and that may require some… uh… sacrifice from the nation’s wealthiest who need to pay more of their fair share.”
“Mr. President,” a reporter from FOX News spoke up. “You talk of sacrifice, and many Americans are sacrificing right now. Unemployed Americans looking for work are sacrificing because employers won’t hire because of economic uncertainty based on high debt. Seniors living on fixed incomes are sacrificing because of low interest rates. Future generations, our children and grandchildren, will sacrifice paying off this debt the federal government is accumulating. What are you personally going to sacrifice, Mr. President?”
President Obama nodded thoughtfully and said, “A second term?”
*****
PRESIDENT OBAMA PLAYS GOLF WITH GOD
It had been a rough few weeks for President Obama. The economy was bad. Unemployment was high. Every other week there was a new military action. The national debt was rising at an insurmountable rate. The First Lady was giving him grief about his smoking and eating habits. President Obama, however, was a deep sleeper, and one night God came down from Heaven to visit Obama in his dream.
“Hello, my son,” God said (because we are all God’s children, not because President Obama is the … Aw, never mind). “Once during every president’s term, I come down from Heaven to give one piece of advice. In this way, I show my love for the United States because it is truly dear to my heart, more so than any other country.”
“Uh, I appreciate your intent, God, but, let me be clear, I am trying to sleep,” Obama said, confused by this conversation with God.
“Every president has accepted my advice, even President Bush,” God said. “You would be wise to ask me one question and follow my advice carefully.
Obama was puzzled. “So a few years ago when George Bush said he spoke with you, he was telling the truth.”
“Yes,” God said. “It is wise to follow my advice, but it is also sometimes prudent not to announce that you are following my advice.”
“Very well, then. I shall ask you for advice,” Obama said, thinking. “How can I improve my golf game?”
“What?” God responded with incredulity. “With all the problems that the United States has right now, you have the audacity to ask me about your golf game?”
“Let me be frank,” Obama said. “When you have gotten punched in the face and had your teeth knocked out, when you’ve been kicked in the testicles and hit on the head with a folding chair, it takes a little while to recover. I’ve got this. Now, are you going to help me with my golf game or not?”
God watched Obama’s swing and gave a few pointers, but Obama’s golf ball still ended up in the sandpits or knocked birds out of the sky (that always amused God but only in dreams because the birds weren’t real and didn’t actually get hurt). Finally, though, God had seen enough.
“Are you certain that you want to use my wisdom to improve your golf game?” God asked.
“Yes,” Obama said with confidence in his voice. “Please tell me how I may improve my golf game.”
“Cheat better,” God said, and then disappeared.
“That was odd,” Obama said when he woke up. He turned to his wife Michelle and explained how he had spoken with God in his dream. When he told her about getting advice about golf, Michelle became upset.
“With all that’s going on right now, you ask him to improve your golf game?” the First Lady said. “That was incredibly selfish of you.”
“What should I have requested?” Obama asked, genuinely surprised at his wife’s reaction.
Michelle said, “You should have asked him for the best place to go on vacation this summer.”
*****
PRESIDENT OBAMA VISITS THE FIRST SCHOOL NAMED AFTER HIM
A few months into his administration, President Obama decided to visit the first elementary school named after him, Barack H. Obama Elementary. He was understandably proud and knew the children (and maybe even the teachers and administrators) would be excited to see him visit.
As the presidential motorcade rolled up to the school, Obama noticed that the Obama hope flag was flying level next to the United States flag, and that made him happy.
As Obama and his entourage entered the school, he saw artistic posters of his image all over the school walls, and that made him happy.
As Obama entered the school library, he saw that a whole row of books was devoted to his two memoirs, and that made him happy.
As Obama entered the cafeteria, he saw food preparation staff steaming vegetables and inspecting fresh fruit for the children to eat and nourish themselves, and that made him happy (or at least made the first lady happy).
As Obama entered the school auditorium, he heard students chanting “Obama! Obama!” and then heard the school choir sing a hymn of Obama’s praises, and this made him happy.
Then just as Obama was beginning his speech to the children, the students began a unified prayer. At first he thought maybe the prayer was directed at him, but then he realized that the kids were actually praying to God, and this did not make President Obama happy.
Obama turned to the school’s principal and said, “Don’t you know that a led prayer at a public school is unconstitutional?”
“Yes, Mr. President,” the administrator stammered. “I think it’s a spontaneous prayer, and they’re only doing it today because you’re here.”
Obama was relieved. “Uhhhhh, let me be clear, then. These students are praying for my safety.”
“No, Mr. President. They’re praying that you won’t talk too long.”
MICHELLE OBAMA EATS AT A FAST FOOD RESTAURANT
*****
First Lady Michelle Obama walked into a fast food place and saw a guy sitting by himself eating an unhealthy meal with a huge burger, large fries, a large soda, and lots of pies. She sat next to the gentleman and said, “Excuse me, sir, but none of this food is healthy. Don’t you know that you’re killing yourself by eating all of this?”
The man was stunned because the first lady was sitting next to him and she wasn’t wearing anything tacky.
When he recomposed himself, he realized that Michelle Obama was maligning his meal, and he became defensive.
“Mrs. First Lady, I voted for your husband, but if there’s one thing that I can’t stand, it’s a busybody butting into other people’s business. What I eat is no concern of yours, and if I want to eat a combo meal at a fast food place, let me enjoy my combo meal at a fast food place.”
“How can you enjoy that?” the first lady asked. “It’s all fat and grease.”
“Have you ever tried it before?” the man responded. When Michelle shook her head, the man continued, “Well, then you need to. You can’t criticize something if you haven’t tried it.”
“Wait!” Michelle whispered. “I can’t be seen eating a big hamburger like that. Make sure they break the hamburger up and put it in a salad container.”
The man smiled and placed the order at the counter. The man clarified, “And please crumble the hamburger into a salad container and cover it up with lettuce.”
When the man said this, the cashier called back to the manager in the back, “Michelle Obama is here again!”
Palin critics who don’t understand the context of this shirt would probably make a joke about it being a metaphor for her presidential aspirations. Image via Wikipedia
If you’re tired of the run-of-the-mill Sarah Palin joke (“She can see Russia from her house… Yawn.”), try these fresh Sarah Palin jokes written by the folks at Dysfunctional Literacy… that’s pretty much just me.
DISCLAIMER! The anecdotes below were originally presented on other pages of Dysfunctional Literacy and have been put together by popular demand (more like a couple requests).
*****
SARAH PALIN DECIDES TO RUN NOT TO RUN FOR PRESIDENT
Sarah Palin was on a bus tour in a Republican primary state, and journalists who kept insisting she had no chance of becoming president kept on following her. After a rousing speech, she took questions from the press, who kept asking her if she was going to run for president. When she refused to give a yes-or-no answer, they badgered her by telling her the polls had her in single digits.
“Polls are for strippers to dance around and Russians to conquer,” Sarah Palin said. “My decision will not be based on polls.”
After much bantering back and forth, a family at the back of the crowd finally started chanting, “Four, three, two, one! Tell us if you’re going to run!”
“Wow!” one journalist said to another. “Palin should know things are getting bad when even Tea Partiers are getting impatient with her.”
“Tea Partiers?” the other journalist said. “That’s Sarah Palin’s family.”
*****
I deleted the rest of this blog post because it was kind of stupid, and it doesn’t fit this blog’s purpose. At the time, I was experimenting with search engine algorithms (that’s a whole different topic), and I learned what I needed to learn (and I can write about that another time), but I ended up with dozens of stupid blog posts that aren’t appropriate for my blog’s purpose anymore. I’ve kept other stupid blog posts that actually are appropriate content for Dysfunctional Literacy.
I deleted this blog post because it was kind of stupid, and it doesn’t fit this blog’s purpose. At the time, I was experimenting with search engine algorithms (that’s a whole different topic), and I learned what I needed to learn (and I can write about that another time), but I ended up with dozens of stupid blog posts that aren’t appropriate for my blog’s purpose anymore. I’ve kept other stupid blog posts that actually are appropriate content for Dysfunctional Literacy.
*****
I deleted this blog post because it was kind of stupid, and it doesn’t fit this blog’s purpose. At the time, I was experimenting with search engine algorithms (that’s a whole different topic), and I learned what I needed to learn (and I can write about that another time), but I ended up with dozens of stupid blog posts that aren’t appropriate for my blog’s purpose anymore. I’ve kept other stupid blog posts that actually are appropriate content for Dysfunctional Literacy.
I deleted this blog post because it was kind of stupid, and it doesn’t fit this blog’s purpose. At the time, I was experimenting with search engine algorithms (that’s a whole different topic), and I learned what I needed to learn (and I can write about that another time), but I ended up with dozens of stupid blog posts that aren’t appropriate for my blog’s purpose anymore. I’ve kept other stupid blog posts that actually are appropriate content for Dysfunctional Literacy.
*****
PROFANITY ALERT!!
Normally we at Dysfunctional Literacy avoid the use of profanity, but this is a site that reviews literature (occasionally), and these two books are currently on the bestsellers’ lists and are relevant. We will do our best to handle any vocabulary issues tastefully.
Sh** My Dad Says by Justin Halpern
The author was a writer for Maxim and… Maxim has writers?
Some of the book is funny. Most of it reads like a magazine article, which makes sense because the author worked for a magazine that’s not really known for articles. I read the book on a plane, and it was entertaining both before and after the dramamine. The problem is that the author isn’t that interesting. He has a fairly pedestrian life, and I kept saying to myself, “This guy works for Maxim?”
The dad, however, is interesting, but Halpern doesn’t dig deeply enough for us to learn about the man. Yes, the dad doesn’t like to talk about himself, but that’s the job of the author. If your subject (is alive and) won’t talk, then you talk to the people that know him best and learn about his past. Do your Barbara Walters imitation, and ask him about his favorite color or what kind of tree he’d like to be. Dig deeper, man! You’re a bestselling author now.
As for the television show based on the book, I never saw it, but William Shatner was probably miscast as the dad.
WOULD THIS BOOK HAVE BEEN A BESTSELLER WITHOUT THE WORD SH** IN THE TITLE?
Probably not. We’ll delve further into that a bit later.
*****
Go the F*** to Sleep by Adam Mansbach and illustrated by Ricardo Cortes
We get it. It’s a parody. It looks like a kid’s book. Don’t read it to your kids. We adults can sit around and laugh at it. But if you’re going to use the f-word, use it properly.
IMPROPER PROFANITY ALERT!
The problem with the title Go the F*** to Sleep is that it has an inappropriate f-word usage. You never, ever… ever… use the phrase “the f***” in an imperative sentence (giving an order) unless you’re willing to commit an act of violence (which, of course, we don’t condone). Below are a couple of examples.
Get the f*** out of my face.
Move the f*** out of my way.
When people get to that phase of a conflict where they feel compelled to use the phrase “the f***” in an imperative sentence, people often end up bleeding, dead, on You-Tube, or on the news. You don’t use that language when talking about kids (unless they’re teenagers, maybe). You might think it, but you never say it, and you certainly don’t write it down. Yes, babies (and little kids) can drive you nuts, but you never admit (in writing) that you’ve gotten to that level.
Now, it is okay to use “the f***” in a question. Below are two perfectly appropriate examples.
What the f*** is going on here?
What the f*** should I title my book?
See? Nobody is going to get into a fight over that.
It’s also okay to use f*** with an –ing suffix. When Joe Biden did it (It’s a big f***ing deal), nobody threw any punches.
ALTERNATIVE TITLES (that won’t get CPS sent after you)
Go to F***in’ Sleep
F***in’ Go to Sleep
Why the F*** Won’t You Go to Sleep?
Go to Sleep, Motherf*****
AUDIO VERSION
Supposedly, Samuel Jackson reads the audio version of the book. That probably would have been more amusing five years ago.
WOULD THIS BOOK BE A BESTSELLER WITHOUT THE WORD F*** IN THE TITLE?
Are you f***in’ kidding me?
IT’S NOT THE END OF CIVILIZATION, BUT…
Do we really need profanity in book titles? C’mon, this is a shameless attempt to hide mediocre writing behind a vulgar title in hopes that a bunch of browsers pick it up. It’s almost as bad as mediocre music with children’s beats loaded with obscene lyrics. I really hope the book purchasing public can see through this charade and stop buying books just because they have a vulgar expression in the title. The publishing industry can do better, and we readers deserve better.
SHAMELESS PROMOTION ALERT!!!!
Coming soon from Dysfunctional Literacy is the soon-to-be bestseller F*** You if You Don’t Buy This Book!
Hey, if other mediocre writers can capitalize on the profanity-in-the- title craze, then we want in on the action too.
WHICH ONE? SH** or F***?
You don’t miss anything by not reading either one.
However, Sh** My Dad Says is a much better value. It takes a few hours to read, whereas you’ll be done with Go the F*** to Sleep in about five minutes.
There’s probably a bad joke about Sh** taking longer than F***, but I don’t even know how to phrase it.
I deleted this blog post because it was kind of stupid, and it doesn’t fit this blog’s purpose. At the time, I was experimenting with search engine algorithms (that’s a whole different topic), and I learned what I needed to learn (and I can write about that another time), but I ended up with dozens of stupid blog posts that aren’t appropriate for my blog’s purpose anymore. I’ve kept other stupid blog posts that actually are appropriate content for Dysfunctional Literacy.
I deleted this blog post because it was kind of stupid, and it doesn’t fit this blog’s purpose. At the time, I was experimenting with search engine algorithms (that’s a whole different topic), and I learned what I needed to learn (and I can write about that another time), but I ended up with dozens of stupid blog posts that aren’t appropriate for my blog’s purpose anymore. I’ve kept other stupid blog posts that actually are appropriate content for Dysfunctional Literacy.
You don’t have to be a mind reader to know that Lebron James doesn’t think this Lebron James joke is funny. Image via Wikipedia
LeBron James was dining with his girlfriend at a fine restaurant when Dirk Nowitzki showed up with his entourage. It was a slightly uncomfortable moment, but both superstars nodded acknowledgements to each other and went about their business peacefully.
Dirk was seated across the restaurant facing LeBron, and as they were eating, LeBron noticed that Nowitzki was making a face at him. Puzzled at first, LeBron watched as Dirk clutched his throat, strained his face, and even stuck his tongue out a bit.
The crowd laughed, and LeBron was a bit miffed. Yeah, he had made fun of Dirk’s alleged illness during the Finals, but that was at the arena and not in public after the season was over. LeBron tried to ignore the taunting, but Dirk’s entourage was laughing quite loudly, and the crowd in the restaurant was noticing his antics. Dirk then stood, hands clutching throat, his body shaking violently, and the crowd howled in derision at LeBron. Even LeBron’s girlfriend had a tough time controlling her amusement.
Finally, LeBron had had enough. He was tired of these lame LeBron James jokes. All he had heard since mid-season was “LeBron James chokes, Lebron James chokes, Lebron James chokes.” There is only so far that you can push a man before he breaks, so LeBron stood, strode across the restaurant to Dirk’s table, and punched him full in the stomach.
Dirk doubled over as a piece of meat flew across the room. Dirk gasped and announced to everybody that LeBron had just saved his life! LeBron was suddenly recognized as a hero. While everybody else had stood and watched Dirk nearly choke to death, only LeBron had had the presence of mind to use an unusual Heimlich method to dislodge the hunk of meat from Dirk’s throat. LeBron was once again king, and much of the national negativity against him dissipated. Times were good.
The NBA season started again. The Miami Heat were in a close game in the 4th quarter. Lebron took an ill-advised jumper, and the ball clanked off the rim. The home crowd booed, and as LeBron turned around, his teammate Dwayne Wade hit him full in the stomach. The crowd cheered as LeBron doubled over, the wind knocked out of him.
When LeBron regained his breath, he rushed Dwayne Wade, but the other Heat players got between them, and after everybody calmed down, LeBron asked Dwayne, “What did you do that for?”
Dwayne Wade said, “To make sure you don’t choke.”
*****
*****
UPDATE- June 25, 2012
Sigh! I guess I’m going to have to think of a new LeBron James joke since he probably won’t be known as a choker anymore.
It had been a rough few weeks for President Obama. The economy was bad. Unemployment was high. Every other week there was a new military action. The national debt was rising at an insurmountable rate. The First Lady was giving him grief about his smoking and eating habits. President Obama, however, was a deep sleeper, and one night God came down from Heaven to visit Obama in his dream.
“Hello, my son,” God said (because we are all God’s children, not because President Obama is the … Aw, never mind). “Once during every president’s term, I come down from Heaven to give one piece of advice. In this way, I show my love for the United States because this country is truly dear to my heart.”
“Uh, I appreciate your intent, God, but, let me be clear, I am trying to sleep,” President Obama said, confused by this conversation with God.
“Every president has accepted my advice, even President Bush,” God said. “You would be wise to ask me one question and follow my advice carefully.
President Obama was puzzled. “So a few years ago when George Bush said he spoke with you, he was telling the truth.”
“Yes,” God said. “It is wise to follow my advice, but it is also sometimes prudent not to announce that you are following my advice.”
“Very well, then. I shall ask you for advice,” President Obama said, thinking. “How can I improve my golf game?”
“What?” God responded with incredulity. “With all the problems that the United States has right now, you have the audacity to ask me about your golf game?”
“Let me be frank,” President Obama said. “When you have gotten punched in the face and had your teeth knocked out, when you’ve been kicked in the testicles and hit on the head with a folding chair, it takes a little while to recover. I’ve got this. Now, are you going to help me with my golf game or not?”
God watched President Obama’s swing and gave a few pointers, but Obama’s golf ball still ended up in the sandpits or knocked birds out of the sky (that always amused God but only in dreams because the birds weren’t real and didn’t actually get hurt). Finally, though, God had seen enough.
“Are you certain that you want to use my wisdom to improve your golf game?” God asked.
“Yes,” President Obama said with confidence in his voice. “Please tell me how I may improve my golf game.”
“Cheat better,” God said, and then disappeared.
“That was odd,” President Obama said when he woke up. He turned to his wife Michelle and explained how he had spoken with God in his dream. When he told her about getting advice about golf, Michelle became upset.
“With all that’s going on right now, you ask him to improve your golf game?” the First Lady said. “That was incredibly selfish of you.”
“What should I have requested?” Obama asked, genuinely surprised at his wife’s reaction.
The First Lady said, “You should have asked him where we should go on vacation this summer.”
