Wolf Blitzer: Welcome back to the CNN/Tea Party Republican Party Presidential Debate. I’m your host, Wolf Blitzer, and before we start this evening, I’d like to introduce you to our candidates. First, we have Texas governor Rick Perry.

Perry: Hello. (executes six innocent black prisoners) Glad to be here.

Blitzer: And former Massachusetts governor Mitt Romney.

Romney: (says nothing, lest any slip-up causes his fundraising cash to dry up)

Blitzer: And Alan Keyes!

Herman Cain: I’m Herman Cain.

Blitzer: Oh, right. And Minnesota Congresswoman Michelle Bachmann.

Bachmann: Hello! (keeps gun inside her vagina)

Blitzer: And Ron Paul.

Paul: These debates are a waste of money. As is this podium.

Blitzer: And I won’t bother introducing Newt Gingrich because he died five weeks ago. Now, I’d like to start off the debate with a question for Mr. Romney.

Romney: (shakes head vigorously)

Blitzer: You don’t want to talk? Are you sure? We’re on live television.

Romney: (nods vigorously)

Blitzer: Okay. Well then, the first question will be for you, Congressman Paul. You have spoken out many times against any government interference in the health care industry. Recently, a man died of a toothache because he lacked proper medical insurance. If you had a loved one who was sick but couldn’t afford insurance, do you think it’s right for the government to let them potentially die as a result?

(door flies open)

Sex Cannon: Tell you what I’d do. I’d fuck the toothache right out them.

Blitzer: Who are you?

Sex Cannon: Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot that you’re a bearded gash. I should have known better. The Sex Cannon can always throw the ball over the Blitzer. I guess you missed all the action on Sunday, WHEN I SINGLEHANDEDLY RESURRECTED THE DORMANT REDSKINS FRANCHISE WITH MY ENORMOUS ARM AND EVEN ENORMOUSER FUCK WAND. You don’t see Johnny Beck bending the Giants over and plugging them in both holes, now do you?

Bachmann: Excuse me, but who is this REPULSIVE man?

Sex Cannon: Whoa hey, look at you, honey! You are somethin’ to look at. WELL WELL WELL MY MICHELLE. You got those crazy eyes, and crazy eyes mean CRAZY FOR COCK. I bet when you walk in the bedroom, Jesus walks out. How’d you like a hard yard of Rex doing a little Congressional probing?

Bachmann: I’ll have you know I’m happily married.

Sex Cannon: (looks over to her husband) Holy shit, you’re married to THAT guy? AHAHAHAHA. Sweetheart, I hate to tell you this, but that guy’s had more cocks inside him than a Perdue slaughterhouse. DROP THE FAG AND GET WITH THE STAG. You and me, we’d make quite a ticket. Picture it: Me, in the Oval Office, signing the bill that legalizes prostitution and executes anyone who wears a promise ring. And you, under my desk, giving me the oral pleasure I so desperately need to make tough decisions. Your spittle will be the jizzy lube of American progress.

Blitzer: Mr. Grossman, are you saying you’d like to enter this race?

Sex Cannon: Goddamn right I would. I have a platform. And on that platform are strippers and lesbians fisting each other. In one week, I have done more to change Washington than any man in history. I have made this team better. Hungrier. Sexier. FUCKIER. I have brought hope. I have returned the Redskins back to their former glory, and now I will do the same for America.

Blitzer: What do you propose?

Sex Cannon: First off all: NO SALES TAX ON HOOKER PURCHASES. And no sales tax on anything sex-related: sexy toys, sexy movies, sexy lingerie, sexy boats that people take out to sea so they can fuck on the bow. And I’m going to get every American back to work by getting them back to hardcore fucking. All hooking? LEGAL. All gigoloing? LEGAL. All animal crossbreeding? LEGAL AND KINDA KINKY.

Romney: That kind of talk is an affront to our moral values.

Sex Cannon: O RLY? I shoulda known you’d be against it, Mormon Boy. I bet you’re still sad that I beat out your Nightgown Brother for the starting gig. Hey, don’t blame me. It’s not my fault that your boy lacked the ENGORGED ARM needed to save this city.

(fumbles snap)

Blitzer: What about your stand on foreign relations?

Sex Cannon: Oh, I am all for it. British relations. French relations. Vietnamese relations. Russian relations. Ecudorian relations. Smurf relations. This is no isolationist penis, Wolf. You get me on Cock Force One, and I will personally normalize the shit out of relations with every country on this globe. And anyone who doesn’t cooperate will see the full force of our American penile might. YOU ARE EITHER WITH MY PENIS OR YOU ARE AGAINST IT.

Perry: I’m sorry, but this has gone on long enough. This man is NOT a serious candidate.

Sex Cannon: Oh yeah, Hair Guy? Let me tell you something: I have been through the fire. I was throwing deep to Bernard Berrian before you were hanging on your mom’s Christian tit. You want an experienced candidate? You want a man who has seen things? Oh, I have seen things, like the time I saw these twin high school girls take a pole vault pole and jam both ends right up their…

Blitzer: Does anyone here have a rebuttal for Mr. Grossman’s policies?

Paul: I’m okay with the prostitution thing.

Sex Cannon: Finally! Someone sees my way of doing things. And let me tell you about these banks. There aren’t gonna be anymore bank bailouts under Sexident Grossman. I will not bail out any bank. I WILL BAIL OUT VIRGINS. I will send a five-star hooker or gigolo to every last American who needs one. Even kids. THEY INSTILL CONFIDENCE.

Crowd: Booooooo…

Sex Cannon: Oh, so you’d just let a virgin die a virgin?

Crowd: Yes!

Sex Cannon: You people are fucked, and not in a good way.

Bachmann: I think I’d be more comfortable if Mr. Grossman left the dais.

Sex Cannon: Oh, I bet you would. I bet it makes you real uncomfortable right now, standing here before a REAL MAN with a REAL BONER. I get it. You’re not ready for it just yet. That’s okay. Take your time. Go home and stretch that pussy if you need to. I know you got lots of kids and it’s pretty loose down there, but I guess you need more seasoning. Wait, don’t you have a bunch of foster kids? Those kids are good for yard work. We can get them to clean the sheets after I’m through “vetting” you.

Blitzer: You’re gonna have to leave, Mr. Grossman.

Sex Cannon: Don’t be fooled by these fraud candidates! There’s only one choice for you if you love America and you love long, hard, ropey passes that shoot out from me like a two-week jizz buildup! YOU KNOW REX IS THE MAN AMERICA HAS BEEN WAITING FOR. I’ll be naked in the steam room when you’re ready! Show them the logo!

Looks like we know what we’re live blogging during the lockout.

Here it is, everybody – the never before seen Focus on the Family ad airing during Super Bowl XLIV that features Tim Tebow decrying the evils of smishsmorshions. I can’t wait for Tostitos to counter during the Oscars with an ad that has Ricky Stanzi calling for a flat tax.

And, as a chaser for all that tasty fundamentalism, here’s the actual commercial submitted by the gay dating site ManCrunch.com that CBS is trying to quietly decline without pissing off the Human Rights Campaign too badly. Even if they’re better off without another representation of homosexuality as bizarre and disturbing, err, I mean, HURRR LOOGIT DEM QUEERS PAWIN’ AT ONE ANOTHER! UNNATURAL AND SICKENIN’ IS WHAT IT IS!

FACK YOU, AMERICA! If you love dahhkies mar than you love the fackin’ Sawx and Pats, then you ahhh nawt true America fans! This could be ow-uh dahhhkest ow-uh! Adam Vineteiri, you ahhh a fackin’ traitah!!!

No one wants some dahhkie Chicawgo fan in chahhge! Chicawgo fans don’t have the rooting powuh of the LEGENDARY fackin’ Baston faithful! NO ONE DENIES THIS! Papelbawn should have run! Paaaapelbawn!

(puts entire pack of Red Man in mouth)

(smokes thirty Parliaments simultaneously)

(drinks gallon of vodka and Hawaiian Punch)

(cranks Three Doors Down album)

(gets Yosemite Sam tattoo on quadricep)

(throws garbage can through tenement window)

(attaches wallet chain to belt loop)

FAAACK YOOOOOU!!!! CELTIC NATION WILL FARM ITS OWN COUNTRY, YOU FACKS!

John McClane faces a real uphill battalion against Bark Obama in their Precedentous Rebate tonight! You know, it doesn’t seem like long ago that McClane had a lake up in this race. But now the shoe is on the other hand! The economy is in real tin foil. I mean a serious tailwind. Sublime mortgages have badly hurt us! And caused a big nipple affect. We’re at risk for a very long resuscitation. And that has badly hurt McClane’s flavorability ratings! ESPECIALLY IN THIS ERECTION CYCLE!

If I’m John McClane, I need to batter down the matches and hit Bark HARD! I mean, turn up the attacks on him to FULL STOSSEL! This is just like a football game, and the time is right for McClane to masturbate the ball down the feel, as we say in football parlay! I think he needs to bring up some of Bark’s more nerfarious ass oceans! Like William Ayers, who was a domesticated terrapin. I’d also make Bark talk more about the bank bailout. Doesn’t this mean the end of capitalization, and the beginning of socialization?

This champagne has gotten very heated in the past few weeks. There has been a lot of hate speech. A lot of inflammatizing Roderick. And that has hurt McClane in the Pectoral college vote ejaculations. BUT NOW IS THE TIME TO LET HIS GALL BLADDER HANG OUT! He’s gotta loosen the reindeers. Pull out all the stocks. He’s gotta go for the juggler. He needs a lane changer!

OR ELSE THIS ERECTION WILL BE A MIXMATCH!

McClane will have to menstruate to the country that he is fit to lead. He can’t make any bad verbal graphs. He already has Sarah Palin out on the road prostating Bark’s polices. But he can’t simply follow the rectum of conservatory talk radio. He needs to be substitutive. He really needs to roll up his seams and get his hams dirty. That’s the only way he’ll turn the time!

But that time is running out. If I’m John McClane, I say to myself, “Okay, now is the time for me to get down to business and come out singing. I will not be sterilized! I am going to defecate to America that Bark Obama is a FONDUE! And a TERRAPIN! And that he coagulates and harborates known submerman excrements in our satiety! I will not be FORNICATED!”

That’s what I would say to myself. It’s time for McClane to put out or shut up. Or else he will get absolutely VANQUILIZED! CALAMITIZED! HOLOCCOSTED! This could be a real fresco if McClane isn’t careful.

AND THAT MEANS HE’S GOTTA MASTURBATE THE DOWN THE FEEL!

When is this colored feller gonna get more specific?

All he talked about last night was war, the economy, immigration, abortion, taxes, gun control, conservation, government regulation, education, foreign policy, and energy policy. But that was all just RHETORIC. Folks down here don’t care to hear all that lofty talk. We’re real Americans. We need to hear SUBSTANCE!

For instance, he barely talked about trade last night. I had hoped he would devote at least 70 minutes to talking about trade. And he didn’t spend 35 minutes talking about property levies, like I wanted. And how come he didn’t say NOTHIN’ about the garbage cans that have been sittin’ in Mrs. Furlong’s yard for HIGH ON THREE WEEKS NOW? The whole neighborhood was up in arms about that! How could he neglect to even MENTION it? Sounds like someone isn’t really tuned in to what the American people need to hear!

And he didn’t say SHIT about how Jake Delhomme’s elbow is doin’. I wonder… does he even care?

Nope, he didn’t say nothin’ about any of that. Instead, he just spent 45 minutes giving a detailed, toplined plan about what he planned to do as President. Well, that just strikes me as hollow. I much would have preferred an 85-hour telethon that noted every detail of every single thing he has ever done or ever will do. Now, I heard that you can get this kind of info on his “intersite”. But, that sounds pretty darn elitist to me. NOT ALL OF US HAVE FANCY INTERSITES, SIR! WE ONLY GOT RADIOS LAST WEEK!

I just think this feller’s different. I done never seen him walking around town! How can I trust someone that hasn’t even served on my city council? I don’t know what kind of crazy tricks he’ll try and pull. I don’t think he gets what really matters to us everyday folk.

Like that stage last night. I didn’t care for that art direction ONE BIT. And he didn’t get how much that means to me. So I’m not votin’ for that feller. He just isn’t giving me any concrete reasons to vote for him.

Also, he’s black.

Nice!

I can’t wait. For four whole days, I am gonna be surrounded by some seriously desperate independent feminazi poon tang. These chicks have been marching and canvassing and protesting all year long. Something tells me they’re ready to vote for some Travis Henry Cock to help wind down! It’s got the highest THC content of all!

Best of all, I don’t even have to TRY and convince these gals to go and get scraped! Hell, they can’t wait to get pregnant, then spin on over to the Baby Dispatch Clinic and get it all on video for their Master’s thesis art project at Oberlin. AWESOME.

Sure, most of these chicks are over 150 lbs, and old, and have short hair, and wear fanny packs. IT’S WORTH THE TRADEOFF FOR ONE KICKASS RU-486 PARTY, I TELL YOU! GET ME SOME PLASTIC SHEETING FOR MY CONDO FLOOR! All I have to do is tell them how hard it is to be a black man America today, and their lily-white, open-minded asses are MINE! Shit, I’ll wear a goddamn Obama mask if they want!

Finally. No more getting laid, then sitting around happily oblivious for six weeks, only to have the girl come knocking at my door talking about, “Hey, you’re gonna be a Daddy now, Travis. You have responsibilities. THIS IS MY BABY AND MY CHOICE!” God, what a bunch of tightasses these Denver chicks are. “I care about family!” Pfft. Whatever, Hitler lady.

No more trying to convince them. No more punching them in the tummy and hoping for the best. No more pretending to “sleepwalk” with my trusty wire hanger. No more calling Rae Carruth for advice. FINALLY, SOME CHICKS ARE IN TOWN WHO KNOW HOW TO FUCKING PARTY! THEY CAN’T ALL BE LESBOS!

I’m telling you, this town is gonna be Shangri-La for bareback riding enthusiasts the world over. I heard Larry Bird is even showing up! I’m gonna slip so many past the goalie, you’d think it was the goddamn NHL All-Star game. Just call me Alexander Inbitchkin!

I BETTER CALL WILLIS MCGAHEE!