Do You Smell What Barack Is Cooking?

Barack Obama is sweeter than peeps on Easter Sunday. He's better than hot pho on a cold winter day. He's like Falcor, sharing his wisdom while he flies us through the Never Ending Story. He's like the wrinkled twenty dollar bill you find in the back pocket of your favorite pair of jeans you lost at the bottom of your closet. He's like your inner child giving your outer adult a high five. Barack Obama is like morning dew. Hearing him speak is like discovering you're double jointed and destined to shatter world records in competitive swimming. He's like waking up from that nightmare you have of being late to your final exam, only to find instant relief when you realize that it's a Saturday morning in the middle of July. He's like the exact opposite of a venereal disease. He is cooler than the make-believe lovechild of James Dean and Jessica Rabbit. He's better than longanisa swimming in egg yolk and garlic rice. Chuck Norris fears him. He's more awesomer than a steel cage ladder match between the care bear cousins and new kids on the block. He's like the day your braces came off, full of smiles. Watching Barack last night was like watching Hot Rod unlock the Matrix of Leadership and become Rodimus Prime while the 80's rock song You got the touch! wales in the background. It's like Optimus said, "it will light your darkest hour." Have you ever looked into his eyes? It was like the first time I heard the Beatles. Barack Obama is the mother of my unborn child.