Excuse me, Mr. President? I’m going to say this as politely as I possibly can. Would you please GET YOUR ASS OFF THE RESOLUTE DESK?
For the Love of Pete, man, didn’t anyone raise you better than that? Surely your Grandmother — you remember, the racist one you threw under the bus — taught you not to sit on desks and tables. I’m pretty sure that even if she didn’t, common sense would tell you that you don’t park your backside on a desk that was a gift from the Queen of England, a desk made from the timbers of a ship that headed off what would have been a disastrous third war between England and the United States. Show some respect for the history and tradition of the thing, would you please?
That aside, what sort of message does it send to the rest of the world when they see our President slouching on a desk, his feet dangling inches off the floor like an ill-mannered schoolboy? Either stand up or sit behind that desk like you are the most powerful man on the planet. You represent the greatest country on Earth, Mr. Obama, and you should remember that every single time a camera is anywhere near you. What you do not only reflects on you but on hundreds of millions of Americans and over two centuries of history. You may think we’re a bunch of ungrateful rubes in need of a good re-education, but you will damned-well represent us like we are the most noble people on the planet of, by God, we will turn you out in 2012 and find someone who will.
Now get a can of Endust, snatch that stupid tie from around Rahm’s neck, wipe your butt prints off that desk and start acting like a grown-up.
Category: Political Pontifications