Obama: 'New York girlfriend' was composite

Politico ^ | Wednesday May 2, 2012

[Meet the New Boss]

Barack sat on the edge of the bed—dressed—blue jeans and luscious ladies on his chest [a comfy T-shirt depicting buxom women]

Stay classy, Barry!

[LucyT]

Told ya!

Yes, you did!

Thanks, Kenny Bunk.

[LucyT]

[TLI]

http://fellowshipofminds.wordpress.com/2012/05/01/does-this-obama-poem-sound-man-boy-gay-to-you/

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/18/us/politics/18poems.html?_r=1

[LucyT]

[john mirse]

Genevieve [Cook]

********

Is there a picture of Obama's past girlfriend on the internet? Thanks.

[TigersEye]

Based off of multiple fantasies. This limp-wristed dooshbag, 0bama, has never had a girlfriend. Just a moosefriend.

[TigersEye]

Barry Hannibal Obama

That would explain why not one woman has come forward to claim her 15 minutes of fame as the "former gf of the first black POTUS."

[windcliff]

Like his wife.

[CSM]

“My composite girlfriend is Giada De Laurentiis and Selma Hayek.”

My composite girlfriend is BELLYGIRL!

[PGalt]

Thanks for the ping. Great thread.

“Everything about socialism is sham and affectation.” - 23.11 Ch23 Evil; Economic Harmonies; Frederic Bastiat 1801-1850

Composite Marxist/Sociailist/Totalitarian

FUBO

[N. Theknow]

Made up memories are so difficult to recall in exact detail.

[mikrofon]

Obama is a compost character based off of multiple socialists

There, fixed it...

[GOPJ]

Geez, people. Give the guy a break. He didn’t write the book.

Good one, Pappy. Somewhere Bill Ayers and an old flame of his - are laughing....

[bgill]

I was very sensitive in my book not to write about my girlfriends, partly out of respect for them

... but mainly because they're boyfriends.

[Brown Deer]

The Poetry of Barack Obama

Sitting in his seat, a seat broad and broken
 In, sprinkled with ashes
 Pop switches channels, takes another
 Shot of Seagrams, neat, and asks
 What to do with me, a green young man
 Who fails to consider the 
Flim and flam of the world, since
 Things have been easy for me; 
I stare hard at his face, a stare
 That deflects off his brow; 
I’m sure he’s unaware of his
 Dark, watery eyes, that
 Glance in different directions,
 And his slow, unwelcome twitches,
 Fail to pass.
 I listen, nod,
 Listen, open, till I cling to his pale, 
Beige T-shirt, yelling,
 Yelling in his ears, that hang
 With heavy lobes, but he’s still telling
 His joke, so I ask why
 He’s so unhappy, to which he replies...
 But I don’t care anymore, cause
 He took too damn long, and from
 Under my seat, I pull out the 
Mirror I’ve been saving; I’m laughing, 
Laughing loud, the blood rushing from his face
 To mine, as he grows small,
 A spot in my brain, something
 That may be squeezed out, like a 
Watermelon seed between
 Two fingers.
 Pop takes another shot, neat,
 Points out the same amber
 Stain on his shorts that I’ve got on mine, and
 Makes me smell his smell, coming
 From me; he switches channels, recites an old poem
 He wrote before his mother died,
 Stands, shouts, and asks
 For a hug, as I shrink, my 
Arms barely reaching around
 His thick, oily neck, and his broad back; ’cause
 I see my face, framed within
 Pop’s black-framed glasses
 And know he’s laughing too.

[null and void]

My composite girlfriend is BELLYGIRL!

I hear ya!

[Spunky]

[thecodont]

A composite just like his birth certificate.

Yep.

[SMARTY]

The inside of “O’s” brain must be like the houses some of those hoarders live in.

The lies, inside the lies, inside the lies .... all manipulated, ‘revised’ and whitewashed by a shamefully compromised and less than believable MSM will assure that America is never going to know exactly who or what he actually is.