Michelle Obama Dreams About Bathhouses in Chicago—A Fractured Fairy Tale
DonaldHendon.com
Late one night, Obama and Michelle were pigging out
with a couple of buckets of Chick-Fil-A. They both
fell asleep, each one cuddling their own bucket.
Here’s Michelle’s dream:
She and Obama were in bed eating bucket after bucket
of Chick-Fil-A. They started talking about the good
old days in Chicago.
Obama: I really miss going to my favorite bathhouses
and gay bars. I used to be able to do this before I
got into politics and nobody would recognize me. I
can’t do that anymore. If people find out I’m gay, I
won’t win in November.
Michelle: You had the Secret Service build you a
replica of the Choomobile you had in Honolulu where
you and your gang went to get high. Now whenever you
want to get really, really high, you go to Camp
David and smoke a few joints with your buddies in
that old beat-up VW Bus. Why don’t you have them
build a replica of your favorite bathhouse, “Man’s
Country” at Camp David, too?
Obama: It just wouldn’t be the same, Michelle. I
loved walking up and down North Clark Street and
North Halstead Street in the Boystown and
Andersonville Districts. What memories! Not just
Man’s Country, but also Steamworks. The Sweat Lodge
on Cicero. And what’s the name of that bathhouse
that closed down?
Michelle: Man’s World?
Obama: Yeah, I hear they tore it down and put up
condos instead. What a shame! That was my favorite.
I liked it even better than that really big one, the
East Bank Club near the Merchandise Mart. I wonder
if my membership is still active there.
Michelle decides to surprise her husband. She orders
the Secret Service to build a replica of Man’s
World, the one that closed down. She got old photos
of it and gave it to the builders.
A few weeks later, when it’s finished, she inspects
it. She’s pleasantly surprised that there are
plaques on some of the doors that say “Presidential
Suite” and “Oral Office,” just like in the original
Man’s World in Chicago. She thinks to herself, “I
think I’ll invite Barney Frank and his new wife, Jim
Ready.
Or is it his new husband? I’m never sure about good
old Barney.”
She starts making a list of some of her husband’s
other gay buddies. She decides to invite Reggie
Love, who used to be her husband’s special assistant
and personal aide. She thinks to herself, “Barack
used to call Reggie his special-weshul Body Man. And
he really was! Who else? Rahm Emmanuel, of course!
And I can’t forget Kal Penn. He was so good in those
Harold and Kumar movies and in that TV show,
How I Met Your
Mother. Barack gave him a job as Associate
Director of the White House Office of Public
Engagement. I laughed so hard when he said it wasn’t
the office of
Public engagement—it was the office of
Pubic
engagement.”
She thinks to herself, “I can’t just invite 5 guys,
though. I think I’ll call Jeremiah Wright on the
phone to get more names.” So she gets on the phone.
Michelle: Hey, Jerry, this is Barack’s
beard,
Michelle. I’m so grateful that you introduced Barack
and me through your
Down-Low Club
that we’re pulling you back out from under the bus.
But only if you’ll do me a favor.
Special note to readers:
According to Kevin DuJan, the term
beard
refers to a caustic black woman who marries a gay
black man who wants to hide his homosexuality (stay
down-low,
in other words.) It’s a marriage of convenience. Go
to Hillbuzz.org for more information.
Wright: What’s the favor?
Michelle: Tell me the names of some of the other gay
guys you married to other
beards
like me? We want to invite them to the grand
re-opening of Man’s World Bathhouse. We’re building
a replica at Camp David, right next to the
Choomobile. And we want you to attend, too, even
though you’re not gay. And we only want the guys,
not their
beards. This is a gay guy-only event.
Wright: Let me think about it. I don’t want to
invade their privacy.
Michelle: What’s there to think about? Members of
your Down-Low Club would love a chance to rub
elbows—and other bodily parts—with the world’s
biggest celebrity, my husband.
Wright: I said let me think about it. And don’t call
me, I’ll call you.
He hangs up on her. This makes her mad. She thinks
to herself, “Nobody ever hangs up on Michelle
LaVaughn Robinson Obama and gets away with it.”
As she is planning her revenge on poor Jeremiah
Wright, the ghost of Liberace appears. He says in a
sinisterly sweet voice, “Why don’t you hold monthly
events at my museum in Las Vegas? It’s really my old
house, on East Tropicana Avenue, a couple of miles
from the Strip. I’ll help you plan each event. There
are a lot of gay guys in show business, not just Kal
Penn. I can get
all of
them to come.”
Michelle: I’ll just bet you can!
Liberace: Yeah, I’ve had lots of experience in doing
that.
Michelle: I don’t want gay ghosts—forget about
showing up with Rock Hudson, Montgomery Clift,
Tyrone Power, and all that bunch. Nobody today
remembers them, anyway. I want real live gay movie
stars, like Neil Patrick Harris. And they gotta be
guys. I don’t want Rosie O’Donnell or Ellen
Degeneres to show up.
Liberace: I’ll see what I can do.
What will Liberace's ghost do? To be continued…
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