Vote Obvs In '04™.
My fellow Americans...
... she mars all over your effing Zanzibars. The only thing I'm cooking from there is some fucking skag, Rage Kage. Boo-jah!
Today is the day, my loyal followers: Election Day 2004. Dr. Bill Cosby and yours effing truly would like to thank each and every one of you for the support you have given the Obvs in '04™ Campaign the last ten months. And by "thanks for the support", Peabs really means thanks for lending me your toothless grandmother Ethel so she could gummy gum my testicles before I genitally reprimand her. Schmobvs.
It has been a long and winding road, and I personally feel as though Coz and my pretty self have made quite the impression on the American public. Since our announcement to run for the Presidency, drug use in the United States has increased 176 percent. Prostitution has increased by 300 percent. And, as if that weren't enough, the amount of Abe Lincolns given to HIV-positive crackwhores has risen an astounding - you'll have to excuse Peabs, I'm tearing up just thinking about it (which, suffice to say, is most likely because I just snorted four teener-long speedball rails) - 14,000 percent. There is no denying the dizzying effect Peabs has had on our country. Bovs on your one fucking tee, Nancy Reagan.
Many of you probably wondered how Peabs spent his last evening before the election. Contrary to popular belief, I was not out trying to lobby more votes. At this point of the election, if you're going to be voting for an effing gorgeous, call girl-fucking smack fiend, you're pretty well dead set on such a decision. Obvs. So, bovs, Peabs decided to relax the night before the biggest day of my life and have a Club Sped party. Why? Because mongoloids need love too. Robvs.
I've certainly never been one to discriminate. Cosby, being the debonair Nubian he is, introduced to all sorts of flavors of chocolate throughout our friendship. My old friend, Mao, would bring over many an Asian harlot to give the old "how's your father?" to, if you know what Peabs is screamin'. Anyone who's ever read this asinine site knows about my speed-fueled ass-fest with that hot piece of Indian vagina, Indira Gandhi. Mobvs. Anyway, Coz rounded up a few down syndrome mamas and a slip 'n slide, which we soaked in liquefied cocaine.
You can probably guess what happened next. Yes, Peabs had his salad tossed. And, to be quite honest, it was some of the most meticulous and finite ass licking I had ever been a part of. Favorite part of the evening? Probs when Dr. Bill Cosby asked a young vixen who went by the name of Dahhhhhhh if she liked "doing bung tokes from the Vice President's black ass." I must say, Coz, that shit was effing hot. I couldn't help but whip out my effing D™ and snowball the first available mizz immediately!
"Yooooooooouuuuuu've gots to know that the Jell-OOOOOOO® tastes like Mello-Yello®!!!! Flazzum!"
So that's how Peabs spent his last night as a meager, yet wildly attractive state representative. If all goes as planned, I shall have a new job by tomorrow. Below is an early exit poll; let's hope it's reflective of the final election results:
According to this particular poll, which Cosby created during a backalley filming of a very special triple-X episode of Picture Pages, Peabs is way ahead. So ahead, in fact, that they had to give me two colors to signify the amount of votes I have received so far. Shmears.
You're doing your job, America. You're electing the right man. Well, maybe not so much the right man, but certainly the prettiest and most arrogant. Lest we forget I have a cock that makes Burt Reynolds look like Ralston Purina™. And what more do you want out of the leader of the free world? Obvs.
all which isn't singing is mere talking
and all talking's talking to oneself
(whether that oneself be sought or seeking
master or disciple sheep or wolf)
gush to it as diety or