Politics & Funk

7:38 P.M.

Hillary Clinton is still speaking, but suddenly all the major networks switch over to Mr. Obama. It’s his 10th victory in a row. He’s closing in on the nomination quickly. Soon, it will be time to pay back favors to those who have so graciously assisted in his pursuit.

“Y’all know how to do it in Texas,” Obama says, speaking to a crowd of 20,000 in Houston after officially winning the Democratic primary in Wisconsin. He goes on to promise all Americans everything in the entire world. Specifically, he promises me a MoeJoe bowl from Tokyo Joe’s.

“We invest in you, you invest in America,” he tells me, adding that we’re currently spending 9 billion dollars a month in Iraq.

“How about that MoeJoe bowl,” I demand.

“Hold on you cranky bastard,” he admonishes.

“I want to end a politics based on fear. We should never negotiate out of fear, but we should never fear to negotiate,” he declares boldly, quoting JFK.

“I will close Guantanamo, end torture, and restore Habeas Corpus,” he proclaims.

“Buy me a fucking MoeJoe Bowl,” I scream.

“I’m eating my own stomach. I need the nourishment of grilled chicken, pineapple, egg, carrots, sweet onions, red peppers, and a sweet and spicy sauce. How do you expect me to blog while I’m grazing on the shavings of a two-week old king cake?”

“I know how easy it is [for politicians] to turn us on each other. To use immigrants and gays and people who aren’t like us as scapegoats for what they do,” Obama retorts.

“Oh my god! This is supposed to be a victory speech. This is not supposed to last any longer than twenty minutes. Please, just evoke “change” seventeen more times, remind people how you’re not a Washington insider, give McCain a quick jab, and get me the delectable MoJoe Bowl you promised.”

“The people in Washington want to boil the hope out of me, stew me for a bit.”

I sense that I am losing consciousness. I need serious help. Maybe, I shouldn’t have put all my desires and dreams into a candidate full of “empty rhetoric.” Maybe, my hope is false, and my MoeJoe bowl will never arrive.

Maybe, I should have called John McCain instead.

But wait, just as I’m losing all optimism there’s a knock on my door.

“Oh hell yeah dog, I knew you’d make it,” I shout, as Barry strides in smooth as ever with Tokyo Joe’s in hand.

“Thanks bro, could I ask you for one more favor,” I inquire.

“Sure, anything for you man. You know Politics & Funk is my favorite blog. That shit is hilarious. I read it all the time,” he says, handing me the MoeJoe bowl.”

“Could you have Rachael Maddow feed it to me while explaining exit polls and batting her eyelashes?” I ask.

“Nope, you have to be a super delegate to get that sort of treatment,” he laughs.

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