Barrack Obama is a charismatic man, no doubt about it, charming , intelligent and cunning... extra cunning Yet The man is responsible for a host of atrocities that took place under his rule in the white house some of which include....
During 2016 alone, the US dropped 26,171 bombs on wedding parties, funerals, kid’s soccer games, hospitals, schools, people in their homes and walking their streets, and farmers tilling their fields in seven countries: Iraq, Syria, Afghanistan, Libya, Yemen, Somalia and Pakistan. Especially after that whole bring the troops home schtick.
Legitimizing the fake "Wage Gap" shit which i'm still seeing clog up my youtube home page to this day.
The Obama administration oversaw the illegal sale of arms to Mexican traffickers for purposes that to this date have not been adequately explained, and those guns have been used to murder American law-enforcement officers.
Under the guise of developing “green” energy projects, the Obama administration shunted money to politically connected cronies at Solyndra and elsewhere. These are only some of the things i found out through a little bit of digging, imagine what wasn't found out eh? I do love to conspire though so take that there with a grain of salt.
Yet despite this the man is still beloved by a majority of the American public, as i previously stated, the man is one charming and charismatic SOB. But before this man started wreaking havoc on the World, Before the bombs were dropped and campaign promises stopped there was one man on an island nation an ocean away who thought Obama was totally gay, let me tell you about that bogus day when i went to hear what the man had to say.
Monday the 23rd of May 2011 was just another day at school, final exams were approaching tensions were high and morale was low, the gritty grey's of Irish weather added no great boon to the impending educational execution system that is the Leaving Certificate. There were whispers of something taking place after school though, something to alleviate the mundanity, America's first black president claiming to be of irish descent, (As they all seemingly do) came here to deliver us a rousing speech. A man seemingly radiating positivity with his campaign slogan displaying that quality in spades.
Of course I'd attend such an event, what are the alternatives? Return home and jack off before drowning myself in a sea of studies? Nahh i needed a pick up, a morale boost and it seemed like the world knew this and delivered unto me and others and opportunity for it.
So we set off on our merry little adventure further into town from our school, discussing all the juicy the bits of American politics and presidents along the away as much as a gaggle of 17 year old irishmen can, it was mostly just conspiracy talk and controversy "Bush did 911" and "Hillary Clinton drinks childrens blood". All the good stuff, fuck budgets and infrastructure plans of a global superpower an ocean away when you can tell what are basically the paranoid adults equivalent of campfire ghost stories.Aka paranoid stoner talk.
Approaching the place where the speech would take place the seething masses of people bustled about the place with a rather enticing energy, the majority being there to hear the infamous "Yes We Can" and catch a glimpse of a man who had made it to what may as well be the pinnacle of world power to inspire hope of a better world. So we waited behind the masses whilst the U.S special forces herded the public through a checkpoint to make sure that no potato bombs would be lobbed Barracks way.
We finally reached the checkpoint and of course the schoolbag of a school uniform wearing, grotty and pimpled teen was subject to scrutiny, I was that young man that so clearly fit the description of a terror threat. The burly lady at the checkpoint informed me that my schoolbag needed to be left at the checkpoint and assured me it'd be kept safe until then. I was somewhat reluctant to hand over the bag as it contained about 2 years worth of notes from various subjects, i had the bad habit of carrying around the majority of my books and notes.
Rather irritated at this i contemplated asking the lady if she would want to fondle my balls for a truly thorough investigation but luckily i restrained myself for fear of being whooped about the place by U.S special forces. In retrospect i wish i had pulled out my balls and dragged them across the face of every single Special forces member there, potential suicide by stupidity aye but had i known their lack of care and respect for the possessions of the Irish people i'd have gladly died with my balls in hand. Hindsight is a bitch. I passed over my schoolbag to that ogre and our merry little gang carried on in toward College Green. In to see president of the U.S.
Twenty poxy minutes later and the whole speech was done, a man rattling on about how change was on the horizon and how the U.S people value the history, culture and friendship of the Irish, I've never seen a politicians statement turn to lies and horseshit as quickly as when i returned to collect my schoolbag full of potential.
Given our groups dislike of being wedged between thousands of people we had made a hasty retreat after the speech, not even fifteen minutes had passed by the time we returned to where there had once been a checkpoint. No barriers, no canopy, no burly special service people standing guard over our possessions encapsulating what their president had so proudly announced to the irish people.
No all that remained was a battlefield of homeless people and delinquents plucking up and picking away at valuable items as Ravens would to corpses after a war. I wandered through that melancholic scene filled with fear and despair as i desperately searched around for my schoolbag, it reminded me all too clearly of that scene from saving private ryan when the soldier is bumbling about the battlefield in search of his arm.
Alas two god damn fucking hours after the speech had ended and the sun had set i still had no joy and so admitted defeat. Retreating home with the knowledge that some junkie out there had sold my schoolwork to a second hand store for some shitty low grade heroin. Though these days i like to think he studied the contents of the bag, retook the leaving cert and is now living a happy, healthy and content life.
And that is my story, I've since written to the Obama administration demanding that i be sent a bag of books and that i didn't care if they were all Dr. Seuss books, it was the principal that mattered to me. Needless to say i got no response. I've tried to find the email that i sent but it seems to have disappeared. I'll definitely update this post with it if i do manage the task.
Cheers Obama, you fuck.
All the best
Owen O'Malley
