“Anyway, the point is not my associations, but my judgment,” Obama said, “the judgment to play down those associations. Also, there are my accomplishments, like how I put together a desk I bought from Ikea two years ago.”
“It’s true; I helped,” Crack Dealer Steve stated.
“Instead, of talking about the important things. McCain wants to spread lies about me.”
“Like that whole Muslim thing,” Crack Dealer Steve said. “It’s not true. I’ve never seen a Muslim get totally hammered as much as Barry.”
(…)
“Also, to bring up these associations is obvious racism.”
Crack Dealer Steve looked confused. “I don’t get it; how’s it racism?”
“You’re white,” Obama explained. “Notice how they keep bringing up these white people to associate me with as if to emphasize in comparison how black I am. They never bring up all my numerous questionable black associates.”
“Don’t forget me!” Jeremiah Wright called out.
Obama chuckled. “Oh yeah… except for Wright.”
“I hate the honkeys!” Wright yelled out enthusiastically.
“And America,” Obama reminded him.
“Because it’s full of honkeys!”
Crack Dealer Steve shook his head. “You really do hang out with a lot of weirdos. I mean, I’m a crack dealer, and I hang out with a better class of people. I don’t know anyone who bombed the Pentagon.”
