The President's A Nigger!
By: A Racist Just Awoken From A Coma

If you know Cecil Posey, you still wouldn't know half of how jazzed I was to wake up from 34 years in a vegetative state  to find out my beloved New Orleans Saints had just won the Super Bowl. The Saints. Won the Super Bowl? I woulda been clickin' my heels all the way down Baptist Memorial's east wing corridor if it weren’t for the severe muscle atrophy.

But as excited as I was about hearing about my long maligned football team's recent success, I was ten times as perturbed to have been apprised of the results of this country’s most recent election.

My brother-in-law, who was there the day the FBI man (that’s the Fascist Bureau of Investigation to you) put me to sleep with a savage blow to my supraorbital region, could hardly bring himself to tell me. He kept on sayin', “The President’s a n---", "The President’s a n—", before he choked on the words.

"He's a what?" I demanded, "A nice guy? A nimble orator? Not a Nebraskan!"

Despite having all my nutrition delivered intravenously since 1975, I vomited when Mr. Mushmouth finally mustered the gumption to spit it out. Then I flat-lined for a spell. Or so they tell me.

The President's a nigger!

Oh, Christ. Talk about a kick in the balls. To think of all we've fought for - the eggs we've thrown, the nigger churches we've burned to the ground – its about enough to make me want to cry.

And to hear this nigger's a Muslim and a communist to boot. What the damn hell?! Apparently you can't take a nap in this country without waking up three and a half decades later to find everyone goose-stepping to Muhammad Vladimir Coon's jungle drums.

How very, genuinely sad. See, I’m not a racist or nothin', but these niggers need to know their place – and that place is dead.

I mean, it's called the White House for a reason, right? Or did they change it to the Black House?

Oh man, that's a good one. I gotta write that down.