Sign On, Cash In, Sellout.

If you're anything like me or Barack Obama, you've given your package a name. In PEBHO's case his is called the American Recovery and Reinvestment Plan. Mine has a much shorter name, but don't read anything into that. Names aside our packages are very much alike. They both lead to a lot of stimulus. Millions of Americans are desperate to get they're hands on them. Liberals love its size but can't all agree on the best place to put it, while conservatives are terrified of its size but firmly believe there's only one logical place it can go. I could go on.

But I won't. There's no need for me to go on, as it seems as though the rest of you are perfectly capable of carrying on about PEBHO ad nausium without my help. Which is fortunate, because my help won't be forthcoming. I'm already tired of hearing about the 44th POTUS, and the 43rd POTUS is still in office. I am feeling the effects of Obama fatigue before the man has even been sworn in, but I'm sure most of you would agree with Pregatron when she told me "Tough titties, hater."

And the titties have indeed been tough these past few weeks. Everybody is excited about the idea of a black President, and I'm certainly no exception. Nov. 4 was a night that none of us will forget. This entire election cycle has been especially wonderful for me, a true fan of the political arena. I've been able to discuss politics every day for two straight years and not get ignored, tuned out or punched. It's been awesome. What hasn't been awesome is all the stuff that has gone down since. And what has gone down since then has been nothing short of some fucking bullshit.

The amount of attention the Obamas have received since the election has been a little much but understandable. The rhetoric around the attention the Obamas have received since the election has been way too much and beyond all comprehension. Blackest President Ever? Bet. Let's talk about that shit. What is Michelle wearing to the Inauguration? Why is it a secret? Who gives a shit? Not me (but if I did give a shit I hope she didn't go with that hideous Betsy Johnson gown. She is the First Lady, not a Bomb Pop for goodness sake. Betsy Johnson? That rag looks like it was designed by Betsy Ross. No homo). He collects Comics? Awesome. Me too, until I got the urge to get laid. Is Obama a shitty golfer? Looks like. Bringing on a Golf Pro to analyze his swing? Why don't you bring on a Pro TV watcher to analyze why I'm changing the channel instead. And the opinion polls about the shots of dude with his shirt off shirt cross the line seperating just curious and bi-curious. The Inauguration of course is Tuesday, which is unfortunate because CNN's Inauguration Coverage starts Monday. This completely shits all over the Super Bowl pre-game, which only starts a mere six-hours before kickoff. But do I blame the media, really? No. It's their job to peddle what we're willing to buy. And man oh man are we buying.

It's a pity that what is the single most historic event of my lifetime has been completely taken over by every asshole in the country with something to say, something to sell and nothing better to do. And when I say every asshole, I mean every asshole. Take today's historic (or at least I'm willing to describe it as historic since that's the only way that anybody on TV would describe a day that I otherwise would have just called "fucking cold as shit") Obama Express train ride from Phiadelphia to Baltimore. And while I don't fault PEBHO for making the absolute most of this moment because God knows I'd do the same, I've got to get this off my chest before we go on:

1. I get it, Barack. You like Lincoln. You're the next Lincoln. You're Lincolnesque. Enough already with the allusions to Lincoln, Grant, Eisenhower, FDR, MLK, JFK and every other famous American you've been modeling your public persona after. Come Jan. 20, you're going to need to be your own fucking man. This saying or doing something because somebody else did the exact same shit already is not exactly the hallmark of true leadership. I'm not saying that I've already lost Hope, but I'm getting concerned that this could be a sign that you don't have an original thought in your head. C'mon SpongeBob, BE A MAN!
   
2. While I love a train as much as the next guys, who the fuck thought that calling this cavalcade of bullshit the Obama Express was a winner? Express? Really? Flight 1549 had fewer unnecessary stops than this thing. At least PEBHO had the good sense not to wear that gay ass shawl that Lincoln wore on his train ride.

Okay, that's better. Now where was I? Oh, right. Bullshit. I was about to say that while I truly do admire the millions of people who want to be a part of history so badly they are willing to brave some really, really cold weather to do so, I'm pissed at the millions more of free market capitalist pigs who want to make a quick buck off of of those poor saps. My In-Laws have a 2009 black history calendar with You-Know-Hussein as Mr. January. You can buy a colorized and thoroughly unspendable Obama State Quarter for $9.95 (However it should be noted if you're actually willing trade 40 real quarters for a fake quarter and a nickel, you've probably got a what it takes to run a Wall Street bank someday. Post your resume now while supplies last). Dunkin' Donuts, Pepsi, TGI Friday's, Lego and every t-shirt bootlegger in the country are turning Change into dollars. The Inauguration is even being covered on location by QVC for fucksake. QVC!!! At this rate Billy Mays could sell a Commemerative Obama Crackpipe with not one, not two but three jumbo rocks made from the same cocaine that PEBHO himself once snorted as a young man and I wouldn't think twice about it. (and I wouldn't think once before ordering it. All I need is my American flag shirt and a copy of New Jack City and it's on).

But swag aside, this should be a moment in time that none of us forget, a moment that we share with our children for years to come. And what better way to share that moment than with a mint condition first edition Amazing Spider-Man #583 with Obama on the cover? As tasteful as it is timeless, this is one web-slinging adventure that's sure to make that day one you'll never forget. I know I won't.