Blackhumouristpress's Blog

November 11, 2016

When Barack Met Donald

Barack extended his hand to president-elect Trump as he entered the oval office. Mr. Trump put his hands across his chest, closed his eyes and took a deep breath and held it.
“I took my first Pilates class today. I promised my wife that I would work on my flexibility and thought Pilates would be the place to begin. My wife is always saying I gotta be more flexible… What? I’m the most flexible man you ever met. I came to learn that this Pilates guy was put in an internment camp in England during World War I and he came up with this stuff while in a jail cell… Maybe that will be my first profound message to those locked up for all sorts of illegal and wholly subversive behavior… Ask not what the government can provide for me in the form of entertainment but what can I do to pass the time and become more… Flexible. Yes, yes, yes… I do feel more flexible today and a bit taller. All that flexibility makes you feel taller…”
Donald took Barack’s hand and shook it firmly. He then patted his right shoulder and looked around the room and smiled.
“I want to make this as unakward as possible, Mr. Trump. I want to prove to the nation that acrimony is not what we’re about. We’re above all that. This is what makes us who we are… The ability to accept the results and ensure that the greatest democracy the world has ever known, continues and continues to flourish.”
Mr. Trump clapped his hands and wiped imaginary tears from the corners of his eyes and then put his right hand on his heart.
“That is a beautifully heart-felt speech… It’s a shame the press isn’t here to hear this. I only wish the bust outs around my home could have heard this last night. People around the country had to reassure their crying children that I’m not coming into their home to deport or jail them, say crude things and grab their mom by the pussy… Meanwhile, I gotta explain to my son that the paid political activists aren’t going to drag us out and do us like the Romanovs. A bunch of Bolshevik, bewildered Bernie supporters and their inability to think like you and me, Mr. President. They just don’t get the whole bit about accepting results and this is not who we are… Is this room bugged? I betcha it is. TMZ, Wikileaks, Richard Nixon? I bet there’s planted Nixon bugs in this place you’re still finding like World War I landmines in Belgium.”
President Obama gripped his chin with his thumb and index finger, closed his eyes and shook his head. Was the moment of incredulity because of the things being said by Mr. Trump? Was it the fact that half the nation voted for this modern-day carnival barker who beat the odds and won or that the next president was going to piss on his legacy with the help of the senate and house? The correct answer- all of the above.
The current president shuddered to think about the potential abuse of power by his successor. Undoing transgender bathrooms, Obamacare, institutionalization of misogyny… the grabbing of the nation by the genitalia.
“Do you have any questions for me, Mr. Trump?”
“Yes… When did you decide the election was over and that I had won? I’m thinking after Florida… Maybe North Carolina. I always knew… CNN, NBC, ABC… The whole lot of them. It was like watching someone die… so when was it?”
” After you finally admitted that I was born in the United states…”
“Very quick, Mr. President… I can only hope that when Air Force 1 takes you towards Chicago, that you don’t hijack the plane to Ottawa. I’m thinking the Canadians got a really big wall to build to keep you and half of Hollywood out.”
“sarcasm is a sign of inferior intelligence, Mr. Trump.”
The zingers flew rapid fire from man to man for the better part of an hour before The thought came to Trump- I won this. I fucking won this thing. I beat Hillary, Obama, the Democratic Party and the Republican Party. I told the establishment to get fucked and enough people backed me. I don’t need to keep this shit going any longer. I won. I can walk out of this fucking door the way an Italian does from a balcony after popping a virgin on his wedding night- hang the bloody sheets over the railing to a cheering crowd and let everyone know that the deed was done. I can put on my smoking jacket and just relax now.
“We gotta go out there and face the press… How’s this gonna go? We lay the bullshit thick and get through this or we can verbally spar. I think the nation needs a day off from that sort of thing, right Mr. President?”
“Yes… We can have our own armistice day… I’m warning you though- any crap from you and this can go a totally different direction… You ready to do this?”
The two men emerged to a huge gathering of the press. Photos clicked furiously as the present and future presidents emerged from behind closed doors. President Obama spoke first.

PRESIDENT OBAMA: Well, I just had the opportunity to have an excellent conversation with President-elect Trump. It was wide-ranging. We talked about some of the organizational issues in setting up the White House. We talked about foreign policy. We talked about domestic policy. And as I said last night, my number-one priority in the coming two months is to try to facilitate a transition that ensures our President-elect is successful.

And I have been very encouraged by the, I think, interest in President-elect Trump’s wanting to work with my team around many of the issues that this great country faces. And I believe that it is important for all of us, regardless of party and regardless of political preferences, to now come together, work together, to deal with the many challenges that we face.
It was Mr. Trump’s turn to speak. Was he going to be a loud mouth, trash talking winner and turn the press conference into some sort of WWF event? President Obama held his breath as the president-elect began to speak. This was going to go well or become a food fight. Which would it be?
PRESIDENT-ELECT TRUMP: Well, thank you very much, President Obama. This was a meeting that was going to last for maybe 10 or 15 minutes, and we were just going to get to know each other. We had never met each other. I have great respect. The meeting lasted for almost an hour and a half. And it could have — as far as I’m concerned, it could have gone on for a lot longer.
We really — we discussed a lot of different situations, some wonderful and some difficulties. I very much look forward to dealing with the President in the future, including counsel. He explained some of the difficulties, some of the high-flying assets and some of the really great things that have been achieved.
So, Mr. President, it was a great honor being with you, and I look forward to being with you many, many more times in the future.

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July 12, 2012

Romney Meets the NAACP

Filed under: humor,Mixed Race,obama,Short Story — blackhumouristpress @ 3:54 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

                As Mitt Romney took the podium in front of a gathering of the NAACP, the song, It’s Your Thing by the Isley Brothers blared through speakers throughout the auditorium.  Mitt smiled and waved as he waited for the song to stop while gripping the podium with white knuckles with his left hand.

                “ I feel a bit like Fidel Castro facing the John Birch Society, Jesse Jackson at a Klan rally or W in front of …  A room full of scholars.”

                There was a polite chuckle from the audience at Mitt’s attempt at easing into an uncomfortable situation.

                “There is the saying that one is damned if they do and damned if they don’t and really that is the boat I am in today.  Nobody likes to waste one’s time or waste one’s mind…  For that really is a terrible thing.  I thank you for the opportunity to speak to you today and I’m not really sure what I am here for except to provide cannon fodder for the press to exploit the fact that I am nervous and out of my element.  I don’t think there is one person in this room who will be voting for me and I can respect that.  I could explain to you the differences between me and my opponent but to beat a dead horse is silly really.  I believe in being frank and direct.  Call a club a club and a …  shovel a shovel…”

                Mitt took a drink of water and momentarily studied stern looking faces and folded arms.  He took a deep breath and waited for the teleprompter to illuminate the substance of what he needed to say to the conventioneers.  The teleprompter appeared to be off.  Mitt had no notes in front of him and the screen was black. No pun intended.  A sudden moment of panic caused his body to feel flush.  His heart pounded, his hands slightly trembled.  The words flowed from his mouth like water from a broken pipe or watery feces from an asshole.

                “The Republican Party started more or less due to the fact that we believed you people should not have been slaves and servants to anyone.  A white man or any other sort of man other than black or white…  It has been since the Great Depression that things have changed for people of color…  Your color that is and the Republican Party.  With us riding the crest of a second Great Depression, I believe it is time for you to return home…Like it was during the Civil War… In that I mean that the ties between Negros and Republicans was strong and could and should be again as I stand before you today.  Nearly four years of hope and change that has not arrived and I’m hoping you may change your minds or open your minds up to a change that could help keep hope alive and even flourish and prosper.  I still believe in this country where if you assert  yourself, you can be anything you really want.  Look at Colin Powell, Condoleezza Rice and Clarence Thomas…  They should be shining beacons for all people and your race in particular.  They beat the Bell Curve and showed that you don’t need to be a misogynistic Rap artist to make it in this land…  You might not see it this way but among white people, Mormons are a bit of a pariah.  We were chased out and discriminated against going back to Joseph Smith.  There are still those that would rather vote for the other guy strictly over my religious beliefs.  I believe I understand what it is to be a minority and to be discriminated against…  the more things change, the more they really don’t change all that much…”

                Suddenly the teleprompter began to work again.   A light went back on in Mitt’s head as if there had been some sort of a juggling, bumbling comedy act  by candlelight that gave way to an awesome light show, with glamour, glitz and slight of hand.

“If equal opportunity in America were an accomplished fact, then a chronically bad economy would be equally bad for everyone, Instead, it’s worse for African Americans in almost every way…  And that is why I am going to eliminate every non-essential, expensive program that I can find — and that includes Obamacare.”

            And with that, the afternoon tea party with the NAACP concluded. Fait accompli.

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