Illegal Immigrants and Peaches

A photo of Barack Hussein Obama wiping away his tears

BHO cries

Most loveliest diary in the whole wide wide world,

Why do people hate me so badly? I’m the prez! People are suppose too like me and likes what I do. I don’t get it. It’s not fair! :( :( :( ;(

I’m letting all these “illegals” in becuase its the right thing to do for the country. tee partiers, libertyariens, and other wack o’s who are so in love with the constitution are slowing progress down! They are such big cry babies, “We want guns, we want to be left alone, we don’t want to pay high taxes, we like freedom. Waaa waaa waaaa” What a bunch of weenies!

Anyhoo, once all these “illegals” are in place and vote for democrats, we will be able to move the country forward, get rid of guns, regulate the 1st ammendmant, and then my plan will be in high gear to make this country pay for colonial sins. Damn pilgrim puritans.

This will be good for everyone.

And i think it is totally not cool that Sarah Palin wants to inpeach me. I don’t even like eating peaches, so I’m absolutely not going to like beeing in one. I did like the book “James and the Giant Peach” though . It would have been better though if James shared the peach with everyone instead of just his friends. Greedy SOB.

XOXOXOXO

Bary “The Most Awesomest President Ever!” Obama

4 thoughts on “Illegal Immigrants and Peaches

  1. Hey Barack, if you don’t want the peach, I love peaches. Except one time, at one of the weekly parties you throw at the WH, I bit into a big juicy peach and I accidentally bit down on the pit. Hard. I had to have 2 crowns replaced. And not only that, but I got peach juice all over my hands, making them extra sticky. When I was headed to the bathroom, I came across a guy in a wheelchair and trying to be cool and an average Joe (ha ha ha lol), I gave him a thumbs up and said “What’s up Wheels?” He got all indignant on me calling me a jackass. Well, I went the rest of the way into the bathroom, and after washing off my peachy sticky hands, I wiped away my tears of pain from my busticated teeth and wiped the tears from my hurt feelings from the wheelchair dude calling me a clueless jackass. I was embarrassed and didn’t want you to see that I had cried. But I don’t worry about that anymore. See Barack, I’m sharing my feelings with you. When are you going to open up to me? I try and I try and I try. I even tell people that you have a big stick and that still doesn’t gain any respect from you. Why? I’m a nice guy. Why won’t you share your thoughts and feelings with me? Why does it have to be this stupid diary. I’m so deep in depression. I’m going to go draw a warm bath and eat some ice cream. Diet be damned. I don’t care if it makes my butt look big.

    • Damn it Joe! Leave me alone! I don’t want to open up to you. That moment we shared on New Year’s Eve our first year in the White House was a mistake. I was drinking too much, you were drinking too much. We both said and did things that was stoopid. No one likes you, except for fictional characters on NBC shows. Go suck a lemon you white honkey stooge.

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