IHateTheMedia.com presents this exclusive, pre-release excerpt from the eagerly awaited, unauthorized bio of Presidential Obama.
It was late in the day when Michelle came into the Oval Office.
It would probably be more accurate to say that she ‘oozed’ into the office. Michelle wore a clinging, sleeveless dinner gown that reached to the floor and hugged every curve. With her newest Wonder Bra beneath, she was a flaming siren. And she knew it.
Barack looked up from his desk as she slinked across the room and smiled. “Hi, Honey,” he said, “how’re things?”
Michelle reached his desk and leaned against it provocatively. “How do things look, Mr. President?” she purred.
“Well, things look pretty good from where I’m sitting,” said Barack. “But why are you all dressed up, Baby?”
“Oh, I just thought it would be nice if we went out to dinner tonight,” she said. She cocked her right arm and made a muscle. Barack couldn’t help but notice her bicep was bigger than his. “It’s been said that I have the right to ‘bare arms’,” said Michelle. “And maybe later, I can use them to serve dessert.” She jiggled provocatively.
“Out?” said Barack. “You mean out of the White House?”
“Yes, out of the White House,” she chuckled. “We can do that, you know.” She paused, then added, in a street-slang inflection, “You are the prez-ee-dent …”
“Uh, sure, sure,” said Barack. “But if we’re going out, maybe you should change into something a little less flamboyant, don’t you think?”
Michelle looked decidedly less than happy. “What?”
“I mean,” Barack went on, “something a little less like you’re trying to be Michelle Antoinette. You’ve heard what people are saying. Um, about your wardrobe, those $2,500-dollar gowns, you know … Just a suggestion … ”
“Are you saying I can’t dress up once in a while and go out with my husband to dinner?” Her tone had definitely dropped into the ‘frigid’ zone.
“It’s just that people are going to think we’re elitists,” hedged Barack. “Dressing fancy, going out on the town, and such.”
Michelle was having none of it. “We are elitists, Mister,” snapped Michelle. “And your stupid health care bill proves it.”
It was Barack’s turn to be shocked. “What do you mean by ‘stupid’?” he asked, his own anger aroused.
“It’s simple, my dear,” said Michelle. “This wonderful bill is going to force everyone to see doctors they don’t know, don’t believe in, and don’t want, all for the sake of your pride. And, by the way, are we going to be a part of this revolutionary health plan?”
“No, of course not,” said Barack, a bit too hastily. “I mean, we have our own executive health plan in place, and – ”
“And so does Congress,” finished Michelle nastily. “A very good plan, too. All the best, and all for free. If that’s not elitist, I don’t know what is.”
Barack had had enough. He stood up and said through gritted teeth, “Fine, let’s go out, Marie. Let’s go out. And maybe, if we’re lucky, we can find a restaurant with a good salad bar.”
Michelle whirled on him, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Oh, a little dig against my plan for our school cafeterias, huh? Anything else you’d like to add?”
“No, I think that’s about it,” said Barack snidely.
Michelle started walking toward the door, and said over her shoulder, “Well, I have something to add. The kids and I will be going to dinner tonight. Alone.” She continued moving toward the door, then added, “And you can forget about dessert later on. You can also forget about sleeping in my bedroom tonight.”
“What?” said a perplexed Barack. “Where am I supposed to sleep, then?”
Michelle turned and glared at Barack. “This house has lots of spare bedrooms. You can sleep wherever you want. After all, you are the prez-ee-dent.” And she was gone.
Silence once again prevailed in the Oval Office. Barack expelled a breath he’d been holding for too long. Now what? he wondered. This isn’t going to be good. Then, stray thoughts began to intrude. Wait a minute. I’m going to be in my own room tonight. I can do whatever I want …
He slowly pulled his desk drawer open. The pack of Marlboros stared up at him in mute supplication.
Finally, he thought, finally.
Yesterday’s installment was, The unauthorized Obama bio, Chapter VI: “L’Affaire McChrystal.”
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