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By the Comics Curmudgeon
Many differences of opinion mark the divide between real Americans and the sort of decadent, elitist sex-crazed weirdos who read this site. Perhaps one of the easiest ways to tell which category you fall into is to examine your attitude towards the Foreigns and sex perverts. Do you believe that America is a bastion of virtue and everything outside its borders is a giant orgy? Or do you believe that foreigners have a healthy attitude towards sexuality, and that it's Americans who are all twisted up inside when it comes to sexual matters? As is so often the case in these disagreements, each side is right: both foreigners and Americans are filthy perverts. But only Americans are also furries.


Fun fact! Despite the unspeakably filthy things he does in your masturbatory fantasies, Barack Obama has a sex life that, while healthy and satisfying, is fairly vanilla. Those letters you send him, the long, detailed ones that you hope will provide a path to sexual awakening -- specifically, an awakening to the fact that he'll only be able to achieve a true sexual peak with you -- are intercepted by his press people and hidden away from his virtuous eyes. But his handlers cannot protect him from the sewer of filth that runs freely through foreign lands! For instance, when he recently traveled to Russia, he was unprepared for the openly acknowledged S&M relationship between President Medvedev and Prime Minister Putin! As you can see here, Medvedev has put on his finest studded leather collar for the occasion. Obama manages to keep his cool despite the absence of his beloved teleprompter.

But perhaps the vision of a different kind of life did make an impression on him? Something better than life back home? Here, after all, is a perfect metaphor for the America he returned to: a filthy room, ankle-deep in all manner of garbage, with posters for terrible rap-metal bands adorning the wall, all lorded over by a petulant, obese aardvark-furry playing with its Gameboy. Really! An aardvark-furry! Bet you didn't even know they came in aardvark, did you? Anyway, a little bit of cleaning up after this guy would make you think, "Gee, that Medvedev was kind of cute! Maybe he'd let me lead him around on a leash! I wouldn't even make him justify terrible atrocities in Chechnya!"

Oh, hey, did you hear that Robert McNamara died? He was kind of like the "Donald Rumsfeld of the '60s," except that Donald Rumsfeld is a smug fucker who won't spend the rest of his life feeling really bad about all the terribly botched wars. Anyway, McNamara did seem to genuinely feel remorseful about his particular fuckup, but the political cartoonists apparently didn't think that should let him off the hook! I guess when you KILL A MILLION FUCKING PEOPLE, folks are always going to hold it against you. Here's the best of the "Master Of War Is Dead" cartoons. It features Robert McNamara, in a last-bid effort to gain access to the celestial kingdom, ordering a carpet-bombing raid on heaven itself. Later, he'll attempt to defoliate the clouds with Agent Orange, and all the cherubim and seraphim will die of angel cancer.

Wait, where was I? Oh, right, perverts. Anyway, here is your NEW LOOK X-TREME REPUBLICAN PARTY, unveiled after the youth committee Michael Steele put together (made up not of youth, since no Republicans under the age of 35 actually exist, but of people who have spoken to young people for at least twenty minutes over the past year) delivered its final report. As you can see, this punk-rock furry symbolizes the modern, dynamic Republican party that's ready for the 21st century! Its tight pink garter belt represents noted momma's boy John Ensign; its tattoo represents Sarah Palin, who got sick of being Governor of Alaska after two years and would thus never get anything as permanent as a tattoo; its little red book represents Mark Sanford, who, in addition to being a noted Southern Hemisphere-based philanderer, is also apparently some kind of Maoist sleeper agent; and its nipple rings represent the fact that, now that you've had the concept of nipple rings linked in your mind to John Ensign and Mark Sanford, you will not have a good night's sleep for weeks and weeks.

Meanwhile, back in the land of the Foreigns, Silvio Berlusconi was sitting at his desk thinking sexy thoughts, as is his wont. "Mama mia!" he cried. "I never noticed that my beautiful homeland looks just like the leg of a beautiful lady!" He then put his mind to how he could bring his own special brand of sexual pleasure to the enormous lady that this leg supported. Would he plan his approach via the Ligurian Sea, or the Adriatic? STAY TUNED TO FIND OUT!

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