Seriously? Sasha and Malia doing babysitting to earn extra cash and Barack Obama says he is not that far removed from what most Americas are going through? What is this, a Saturday Night Live Skit?

Nope—a morning interview on ABC with consumer reporter Elizabeth Leamy.

During this gem of an interview we learned that Obama is teaching his daughters fiscal responsibility (insert laugh track here) by having them do babysitting jobs (now you’re rolling on the floor, right?)

I’d love to have heard whom the girls are babysitting. Perhaps George Stephanopoulos’ kids need to stop by the White House for a little while and George flips the girls a twenty for keeping an eye on them while he and the president plan their next candid interview. Maybe George Soros has great-grandkids that need tending. I’m seeing $20 million an hour for that job.  Just to help the girls with their depleted college fund. Times are tough out there, you know. Just ask the president.

My favorite question was this one: (more…)

Last night– which likely will be seen by future historians as the beginning of the end of the Obama Administration — seems as good a time as any to reach back into ancient history ( that would be Monday, when the Democrats had a 60-40 seat advantage in the U.S. Senate and still held “Ted Kennedy’s seat”) — and let the man who regularly spews vitriol upon anyone he considers “The Worst Person in the World,” the man whose sneering visage practically defines “enraged moonbat,” the super-special “Special Commentator” who –

Aw, shucks.  Let him speak for himself, and so behold the face of the tolerant, diverse, peaceful Left in action — and realize that this is what they really think of you, America:

After which disgraceful performance, the distinguished graduate of Cornell Cow College “apologized” last night by doubling down on his slur and his sexual innuendos and then adding: (more…)

Bow-wow. You can call me Bo. I’m President Shoutout’s family mutt, a Portuguese water dog with curly black hair. My real name isn’t Bo, but I’m not telling you my real one. Bo is fine. It’ll do anyway. Took the White House brain trust four months to come up with it — you wouldn’t believe the names they actually considered. Let’s just say that “Alinsky” was a contender until Axelrod said “why don’t you just name it ‘Arafat’ and kiss off flyover country for 2012?” Yeah, he called me “it.” Axelrod’s a real sweetheart. Barry’s chief political advisor, which means he spent the whole presidential campaign sending candygrams to the press corps so they wouldn’t do their job. He could have accomplished the same thing with a Hershey bar stolen from an orphan’s Halloween bag. I got his number. Axelrod smells like cabbage and tries to kick me when Barry’s not looking.

Right now, I’m sitting in the Oval Office with Barry, Axelrod and Chief of Staff and resident kneecapper, Rahm Emanuel, while the three chumps cool their heels in the waiting room. Barry’s staring out the window, going JFK on us, trying to figure out which precise upward angle of the chin registers that weary-but-resolute toughness that the press corps laps up. If he sticks that jaw up any higher he’s going to drown in a drizzle if you ask me, but the pose does seem to bring a flush to the freshly sculpted cheeks of Andrea Mitchell. (more…)