Obama's Dreaded Enemy - The Boondwakka

Above is the only group president Obama has any real fear and terror of: The Boondwakka Tribe. "Boondwakka," roughly translated, means, "Cornucopia Huge So You Die Your Men Are Mine." The Boondwakka can put a lot of ideas into a few syllables. Another reason Obama fears them. This is a picture taken at the Obama wedding reception, inside the "hall." The Boondwakka had sent a raiding party there to kidnap Obama and make him a sex slave. Barak had no personal objections to this idea, the sex slave part, but the ceremony - the sex slave ceremony - always ends with the sex slave being physically eaten alive from the ass-up. That is, the Boondwakkas simply start chewing on your buttocks, ten faces jammed together into your ass, like piranha, and you are devoured, raw and alive, from the ass-on-down and from the ass-on-up; half of the faces eventually turning left and eating your balls and thighs and legs and feet, the other half of the faces turning right and eating your abdomen and chest and neck and arms and face and head and skull. It's basically like hyenas at a kill. And you're the kill. And the Boondwakka are the hyenas. This was the part Obama had a problem with. The cannibalism part. Not cannibalism per se, since he intends to open a restaurant serving partial-birth abortion babies, so he has no problem with THAT, being a nigger, but when it's him being eaten, he has a problem with that. So revolted is he at the thought of his own demise at the teeth of the Boondwakka that he even once dared to address the Boondwakkas to get them to contemplate the idea of change. They snarled at this about two sentences-in and bolted towards him to make him a sex slave and then dinner, which is, as you recall, what the Boondwakka do. So therefore they resist change. To return to the Obama wedding reception, when it was heard that the Boondwakka were there - their huge cornucopias prominent before them and swaying mightily all about from their support wires - the women screamed, for all the women at the wedding were lesbians, which Michelle insisted on, and all the men became breathless with desire because all the men there were homosexuals, which Barak insisted upon. And this is precisely why Barak fears them so much: his arousal level at the sight or mere mention of the Boondwakkas causes him to instantly drench himself with sweat from head to toe, his body anticipating the exertions of desire and delight that would envelop president Obama were he to actually become a Boondwakka sex slave. But then there is that cannibalism part. So Obama's fear is that his desire to copulate with the Boondwakka men will override his fear of becoming their sacrifice. So naturally he is conflicted. Just another one to add to his tall mountain of conflictions but certainly the one he finds the most pesky and befuddling and irksome. So anyway the Boondwakkas arrive. Uninvited. I don't mean to keep digressing, but think of the Boondwakka as the Hells Angels of the jungle. Now, I don't mean because the Hells Angels and the Boondwakka share similar lovemaking and dietary habits. No, what I am talking about is that they share the same effect that hearing that they have arrived at your swahray has on everyone. So it's like, at your own wedding reception, you look up from dancing with your bride and you see a line of Hells Angels standing at the back of the hall, all of them looking at you. You go, "Oh shit, what the fuck are THEY here for...." Same thing. Same effect, same reaction. So the Boondwakkas are all arrayed there on the grass in the reception hall. It was plain to see it was a raiding party and not a war party. They had come to abduct a victim not to battle and conquer and eradicate and take prisoners, slaves and booty. The picture of the Boondwakka above was actually taken by president Obama, his desire to create a permanent record of their
enticing manhood overriding his fear of being eaten alive by them. Now, you and I look at the Boondwakka, here recorded by our president, and we react with a mixture of disbelief, ridicule, amazement, disgust, curiosity, bewilderment....did I say disgust? Oh, ok. Barak, on the other hand, saw this chorus line of manhood as an erotic presentation without parallel and surpassing even
the pinup, soul-searing and yearning-igniting creations of Vargas and Petty and Elveren combined. Looking at these man-banging leatherboys Obama was almost crying out in the pain of his frustration. You can see in the eyes of the attackers that they recognize this. Immediately after this picture was taken the Boondwakka began to sashay and lightly step in a coy and seductive manner towards Barak, offering all manner of winks and seductive placements of one hand or the other on the hip as they strolled closer and ever closer. Barak could feel his own little clitoris-sized penis straining to become the size of a cocktail sausage. How he hated and yet desired these vile Boondwakka with their enormous cornucopias and their wondrous and sumptuous physical beauty. And look what he was stuck with instead: the horror and mystery that reaches from the inner mind to the outer limits of Michelle The Arachnid Obama. And now he was MARRIED to the bitch! FUCK. He thought, These spectacular Boondwakka could remove, even for a while, my memory of her loathesome existence and take me to the heights of testicular, penile, anile and sphynterocious sexual delerium. And all Michelle can do is stink up the place with her country-wide inner-thigh sweat glands and her camel-stench-level, dog-attracting pheremone activators. Death at the cocks and teeth of the Boondwakka has to be better than life with her. Apparently Michelle was able to read ner new husband's mind and there was no way she was not going to be First Lady just because her idiot husband wanted to buttfuck a bunch of cannibalistic porch monkeys. No sir, there'll be none of that, you lowlife faggot niggerman, and in a moment she had run to a position between her cum-ozzing husband and the oncoming, mincing Boondwakka. Fierce and single-minded as the Boondwakka are, they were not about to go toe to toe with this suddenly-appearing Cape Buffalo. Even today the campfires of the Boondwakka, when they can get a campfire lit, resound with the tales and stories of the day the "Supreme Ugly One" appeared to the small Boondwakka raiding party in the reception hall of the Barak Obama wedding reception. Of course the others of the tribe are always dubious and yet curious about the tale of this hiddeous beast, for which the Boondwakka, already pretty facile with their own language, had to devise entire new vocabularies to adequately desribe the foulness and monstrosity of what that now notorious rading party encountered, the thing we all now know as Michelle Obama, the owner of the President, the owner of the Country and the owner of the World. Suddenly life with the Boondwakka is looking pretty good even to me. They don't even have to ply me with the sex, they can just start with the eating process. It's better than what the Obama cannibals are gonna do to me.