sum, sum, obummer time

Nothing going on here this summer. So I called my old classmate from Columbia U, 1982. He talked to me from the links where he had just smoked a fatty.

“B, what it be?”

“Just chillin’”

“Ayers doesn’t return my calls, but you called me right back. I knew when I met you that the Movement would be unstoppable if you were part of it.

“Revolutionary Charm is what you called it. I gotta thank you Word. The Movement gave me the confidence I needed to take this thing all the way.”

“Right On, Brother!”

“We are so close.”

“I know you won’t let those Teabaggers take you down.”

“You know what I’m doing. I’ll split the Right and walk back into the White House next year.

“I await your orders. I’ll start packing since I want to take you up on your offer of a big house and all it’s contents, taken from the Capitalist of my choice. But after the Revolution I don’t want to be too ostentatious.”

“Movement people will be protected.”

“I know B. Thanks for the shipment of arms and ammo.”

“You got it, my man.”

“There’s just one thing, Mr. President. It’s about that bag of weed we split back at school in New York. I really need the money now to help pay my rent.”

The phone went dead. I guess I’ll have to wait for the revolution to get paid.

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