Numero 151-160 Central American sayings....

160. Somos los verdaderos americanos
159. Vaminos Liquidos Poopos
158. El Kaline Spleeno Juico
157. La Trombona Magnficent, El Producto mucho bueno musico
156. ¿Cuál es el precio de la especial Spitzer?
155. Loebig come Muncy la vagina
154. I puke, por lo tanto, i am
153. My name jose jimenez
152. I mi izquierda obnoxion cuchara hasta su culo
151. Sus testículos como el sabor del pene britney

Af-Am Veterans for Truth Raise Questions About Obama

A group calling themselves “African-American Veterans for Truth” is questioning the veracity of Barack Obama’s assertion that he is of African ancestry. Claiming to be former colleagues of the Illinois senator, this newly formed organization is going public with what they term “the real story.”

The leader of the group, who goes only by the name “Cement Head,” had this to say about the presidential candidate: “It’s falsehood, that’s all it is, claiming to be African-American when you’re clearly not. It would be like a stapler pretending to be wiffle ball, you know?” Other members chimed in on the topic as well.

“He’s not been honest with America,” said one unidentified woman. “We have what I consider sound evidence that he watches NASCAR.”

“A friend of mine knows someone who heard Lee Greenwood coming from his car stereo,” added a middle aged man who wished to be identified as H. “All I’ll say is the next time somebody says ‘all African-Americans raise your hands,’ you can bet he won’t.”

Although admitting he never met Obama, or saw him in person, Cement Head stated that he grew up “just a few states” from Illinois and that he “knows and hears shit.” He was not as quick to respond to the question of why his group is called “African-American Veterans for Truth” when neither he nor any of his cohorts are black.

“Now Obama can see what it’s like,” he finally opined, adding that “at least one” of the members is a veteran.

“So we’re basically representing ourselves honestly.”

BREAKING NEWS!

Lincoln’s Trombone has been provided with a copy of a phone conversation that we believe to be authentic. (Well, we paid $29.95 for it….)

Client #8: "Hey ya, Kirsten, this is your favorite john!"

Kirsten: "Hugh Grant! I've been waiting to hear from you, honey!"

Client #8: "No, goddammit, this isn't f**king Hugh Grant. It's George Foxx."

Kirsten: "I don't know a Georg.... Oh wait a minute! I remember you! You paid me $10,000 to jack you off while you were kissing a picture of that insurance dude. Greenspan, Greenman...something like that. I really didn't think I'd hear from you again after our last time."

Client #8: "Hell yes, bitch. I've been so damn lonely. It's really hard being me. I thought of a cute hooker joke for you! What do you ask a guy who gives you $25k? Spitzer Swallows! GET IT? HAHAHAHA!"

Kirsten: "Ummm, thanks. I'll try to remember that one. Hey did you ever get that big nasty red spot checked? I am a little nervous."

Client #8: "Why be nervous baby?"

Kirsten: "Well after that session we had with the goat and the Albanian dwarf.....well, you can't be too careful. Oh yeah, that chick that was married to the Clanton dude. What was her name? It was kinda like that dude that went to the South pole. HA? Just like you like to do! Anyways...is she coming again? HA another joke! No, is she JOINING us again? I don't like it when shes there. She doesn't tip very well..."

Client #8: "No, she isn't coming....I mean...HAHA, isn't joining us this time. She's found another piece of shrubbery. OK, so what's the deal? We gonna hook up tonight or what? I took some cialis, but dammit if it didn't get used up when I was shaving! I am dead, f**king sexy!"

Kirsten: "Yeah, right....I guess so. My hand always cramps up trying to hold your little thingy..."

Client #8: "Listen bitch, for $5k you think you could at least pretend that I was well-hung...after all, it's the motion of the ocean, right? AND be careful...(whisper) you never know who might be listening...

Kirsten: "Oh yeah, that reminds me. This dude from the IRS called and said that I owed some taxes and that I could either pay him back by f**king him or f**king you. Guess which one I chose, haha!"

Transmission ends......

Emily Dickinson and Andy Sipowicz visit Boston

“Copley is a veritable ruby, lathed in restaurants, drawing me as a clasp secures.”

“Clasp this.”

“Oh my! Would food not you partake at present? Then perhaps Fenway beckons.”

“I wouldn’t go to that craphole if you lined up shots with your t*ts.”

“Where then—St. Charles in its spotted splendor?”

“Sure. And after I p*** in that toilet, what then?”

“Forest Hills, my good man, as yea matches beauty to the wreckage of solitary lives.”

“Sounds like a riot. Walking on dead guys. Why don’t we find a pool hall in Formaggio and ask a couple of punk locals to step outside?”

“Violence is purple, killing my soul! The sun and forest know but an adder’s tongue.”

“Uh, sure thing, genius. If it helps, I’m sure the guys in the pool hall will give you something to tongue.”

“Malevolence! Your boggy lack of cordiality welts in me the sadness of distant memory!”

“Does that mean you want to do it?”

“Sir! Your utter crudeness…uh, actually, OK sure.”

Obscure facts that I am absolutely certain of

You know, in this mad rush of a world we live in, much uncertainty exists. In fact, we are constantly bombarded with a certain modern relativism that suggests that nothing we hold dear is certain. Just today, I found out that Moses was not a prophet, did not see God. He was a BC junkie; a historical version of Jimi Hendrix. Proof is here . As the day wears on into night, I realize that I cannot be sure of virtually any significant fact or belief that I have held true to this point in my life for fear of being publicly reprimanded or proven wrong. (Can you just imagine what Moses day would be like???) So, to preserve my sanity, I have created a list of obscure facts that I am ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN are true. I am currently considering whether this list of ten items could be the basis for a new world religion. I guess after some discussion , we could decide this as a group.

1. Enlarged left testicles can cause some awkward package positioning.
2. Yeat's Beast lives and is embodied in a modern female political figure.
3. My charcoal grill is having an affair with the neighbor's cat.
4. Sal Muncy is not a real person.
5. The preacher dude in Chariots of Fire died of aids. (He shouldn't have 'run' on Sunday)
6. There is a hidden Mickey in my pubes.
7. Texas (sucks) emits a distinct odor.
8. I don't understand toe fetish.
9. Flaggledrop is not particularly obtuse.
10. Martha Hicks sucks dead donkey d**ks (or so a kid in 7th grade told me)