Obama's My Stepdad

I’ve been having the most absurd dreams lately, and I think it means that not eating for 3 days was not a good idea. Within those 72 hours, I dreamed about a very smart yellow paper snake, dating Steve Jobs, and taking a honeymoon in a snow fort.

By far this was my favorite:

My mom is dating Barack Obama. For publicity purposes, she and I have to spend lots of time together and act as if we’re each other’s best friends. (In real life, I haven’t spoken to my mother for nearly six years). So they’re planning their wedding, buying a house, and dragging me along. I’m obviously not thrilled.

We’re having dinner at TGIFridays, which is weird when you consider Obama’s the president and all, and Friday’s is kinda gross. All the attention he gets is annoying. Fucking Tracy Morgan comes right over to our table.

“Yo Obama! Yo I love you Obama, man. I donated, like, five dollaz to your campaign. Come to my show sometime, man”

(and this is exactly how Tracy Morgan talks)

Tracy Morgan leaves, finally, and Obama gets up to go to the bathroom. Since he’s going to be my stepfather, I ask my mother what I should be calling him. I’m certainly not going to call Barack Obama 'Daddy' (ya know, because he is kinda handsome and I want to outwardly avoid mixing kink and our President... publicly) And “hey, Barack, can I borrow ten bucks to go to the movies” sounds weird.

“Like what am I supposed to call him?” I ask.

My mother replies, “You can just call him Ricky”

And this sounds like a perfectly acceptable answer to me.


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