The Change I Need: 'Wassup My OBAMA!'

Barack Obama has a new website that asks you to: 'Share your vision for what America can be, where President-Elect Obama should lead this country. Where should we start together?' So I submitted a letter to the new pres. Here it is:

Dear President-Elect Barack Hussein Obama,

First off, congrats on the whole historic election thing and leading the fight against the stereotype that all black people are good dancers. It’s quite a milestone. Kudos to you and yours.



I also wanted to follow up with you on this whole change.gov website. I know you’re pretty new to the executive branch but since when did the federal government have a Department of Change? Who will you appoint Secretary of Change? Dick Change-y? Is the movie Changeling about your change babies across the world? These are very serious questions that must be answered.

But more importantly, I wanted to take the time to tell you what I need from you. You got my absentee vote, so naturally, you have to do as I say now. [That sounded kinda weird. I’m not trying to imply you’re my slave-president or anything…AWKWARD…I heart black people.]

As I was driving the streets of Philadelphia on your election day, rapper Jim Jones was on the radio recommending that in the spirit of hope and positivity, that post-your election/triumphanance, we (as in black people and the Filipino guy listening to the radio) stop using the N-word and instead replace it with Obama. That way, you’d go up to your homeboy and be like “wassup my Obama!” Jim Jones suggested a week; I am suggesting this forever…or at least until the emergence of some scandal involving donkeys, cocaine, and the big guy from the Goonies tarnishes your entire career. Given that type of nadir [holla! You’re not the only one with SAT vocab], ‘Obama’ might be on par with the n-word. But anyway…Make it happen el presidente! [That’s Spanish for the presidente.] Do it for all yo Obamas out there.

I also need your help on another crucial matter. Lately, I’ve been feeling very inadequate. Emails from friends now prominently feature in their signatures a smorgasbord of acronyms: MD, Esq, JD, PHD, MBA, MSW, MPP, MPH, ESP, PS3, HIV, ABC, BBD, mmhmmm. I now feel like the lazy, directionless, under-achiever that momma always warned me not to become.

Please help me President B-HO, help me one-up these elitist pricks I call friends. Knight me. That’s right, knight me. I realize that we’re not in England and you’re no Queen. But we live in a world of hope now where anything’s possible, and you’re practically the jesus of hope. If anybody could knight me, you could. I would be the first knight of the blog-table, Sir Boogie Brown I.

Class reunions would go so much better if I were knighted. “oh you’re working in the ER now? That’s great. I’m a knight. I vanquish dragons and protect the crown. Call me Sir.” As someone who spent most of his life trying to fit in and then saying “fuck it, I’m gonna outdo them all,” I’m sure you can understand my plight. Knight me, B-HO, knight me.

Best wishes,
Hope you’re well,
Sincerely yours,

Boogie Brown

P.S. Can’t you just make George W. your new puppy?

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.