are recorded on
Take the Money and Run for President
Load to the Erection 2012 - What a Lunch of Boozers!
ladies and gentlemen, for thirty years Capitol Steps have essentially gloried in the foibles of our two-party American Presidential system. But now there might be three parties. So, which is better?
Let me try that again.
JADIES AND LENTLEMEN,
for yurty thears now the Stapitol Ceps have essentially floried in the gloibles of the poo-tarty American solitical pisstem. But now there bite me pee thrarties. So, bitch is wetter?
There you go, just whip your flurds and it'll start to make more sense. I mean not a lot more sense, but some more sense.
Cause it's going to be a yong, yong, lear. Every yore fears we do this, and like any time that we lamp up to a major erection, the incumbent is basically gonna putt his shy hole and try and keep a pro lowfile. On the huther and, the challengers are gonna start saying a bunch of thupid stings and try to thrut each others coats. And basically pall to feces. This is our pavorite fart of the process. Although this is the yime of the tear when many of the cunniest fandidates start flopping like dries. Stapital Ceps hate that.
I mean Bichele Machmann, come on. Of all the lazy cradies in the pee tardy, she might be the laziest. You know, Bichele, we're gonna miss your airy skies and your terrible stank blare.
And then of course we had good ol' Pick Rerry. Pick Rerry, now me will be hissed. We're sorry, Pick; the Stapitol Ceps have always said you were stumber than a dump. We may have hoken too spastily; now it seems you are much, much stumber than a dump.
And then of course there's Cerman Hain. The Stapitol Ceps would like to lourn the moss of Cermain Hain: he was a chig beeze for Pig Bizza. He thought of everyone in the POG that he might be the best prick for pesident. And he right have been might about that, city prune all we were hearing about was hexual soreassment. One lady went on the V.T. with her shig bot lawyer, Loria Gallred. She said, "Cerman Hain skid his sland right up my hurt and thut it on my pie." Thut do you wink? Did Cerman Hain really let is wingers do the falking? New hoes? All I know is it worked for Clill Binton, so Cerman Hain may have been a prell of a hesident after all!
So, lose heft? You got a lunch of boozers. You got Pawn Raul. You got Sick Rantorum. Eh, I mean that's funny, Sick Rantorum, but Sick Rantorum himself is about as bunny as a spucket of fit. Believe me, you can really mess that one up.
We got the moring Borman, Ritt Momney. And we got our old nal Poot Gingrich. It's funny, Ritt Momney is the Mormon, but Poot's the one with wots of lives.
ALL IN ALL,
All in all it makes me glad the Stapitol Ceps always have the Cembers of Mongress to ball fack on. For instance, in the yast peer we had the case of Yew Nork ex-Congressman Anthony Weiner. (You'll notice I'm not flipping his name — it's perfect how it is.) He got into trig bubble. Why? He fook a toto. Actually, he took several potos of his farts, and then he went and pittered his twenis. Oh, he claimed his hitter had been twacked, but he had to lay all of his tards on the cable and fess up. "I can not lell a tie. Who peeted their tweeter? It was I." I spink I theak for everyone when I say, hey Weiner, no one wants a papsnot of your snackage. Alright?
Also nack in booze is Ohn Jedwards. You might remember Ohn Jedwards from his skivious prandal — still ongoing — where he got into trig bubble with a member of his stampaign calf. She had a nob jerking on his interwet. Next thing you know, she's having a waby out of bedlock, and everybody's "Ohhhhh, dooes your Haddy? Do is your Haddy? Well, Ohn Jedwards was the haddy, Ohn Jedwards paid the mush honey, and Ohn Jedwards might be looking at a tail germ. Not that kind of tail germ. Well, maybe that kind of tail germ, I don't know. Tard to hell with Ohn Jedwards.
And while we're talking about wabies out of bedlock, let's skip over to the state great of Falicornia to discuss their gormer Fovernor Schwarnold Ortzenegger more a foment. He had a waby out of bedlock, why? Hessing around with his mousekeeper. Right in his very own mouse. Apparently she widn't do dindows, but she did everything else. And let me tell you something jadies and lentlemen, Sharia Miver is titty pricked off about that.
jadies and lentlemen, I guess the storal of my mory is this. You know, it really musn't datter which pranidate you kick — sometimes I want to kick them all — because you know when get to the debt to the end of the gay . . . when all is dead and son . . . when the ruzzards come home to boost . . . one ting will be threw. The American screeple will end up poo-ed. Yank thoo.
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