Showing posts with label 2020 Presidential Campaign. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2020 Presidential Campaign. Show all posts

Punxsutawney Phil Moves Out of Biden’s Basement on News of Kamala Harris VP Pick

Day After the DNC Virtual Convention, Punxsutawney Phil
Moves Out of Democratic Presidential Candidate, Joe Biden's
-- Washington, DC

By Robert W. Armijo

In the early morning hours, to the sound of a slamming door, Punxsutawney Phil was seen walking up the stairs of Biden’s basement carrying a suitcase in each of his paws.

Standing curbside awaiting his Lyft, Punxsutawney Phil was soon surrounded by a cluster of weary eyed reporters camped outside Biden’s home in their news vans and trucks.  

“Are you leaving Joe Biden?” Asked one reporter. 

“Is that way your bags are packed?” Asked another. 

With a frown on his face, folded brow and his chin buried in his chest, Punxsutawney Phil just stood there with suitcases on the ground beside him occasionally taking a glace at his sundial wristwatch. 

Finally a reporter asked, “Does your leaving have anything to do with Biden picking Kamala Harris for his vice president?” 

Suddenly there was a flurry of photo flashes as Punxsutawney Phil slowly lifted up his chin from his chest; his jaws clinching and his eyes widening. 

The air filled with wave after wave of chirps and squeals as Punxsutawney Phil movements became so animated photographers begged him to slow down so they could take a shot. 

“Punxsutawney Phil!” Shouted a reporter. “English, please. We don’t speak Groundhog.” 

“Right,” said Punxsutawney Phil. “I forgot.”

“Tell us, Phil,” asked a reporter. “In your words, why are you leaving?” 

Punxsutawney Phil let out a deep sigh.

“Joe promised me I would be his running mate in the 2020 presidential campaign,” said Punxsutawney Phil. “And like a fool, I believed him. I wasted all this time in that basement. I saw my shadow way back in March, but I lied to him and myself, so the guy wouldn’t feel bad. After all, as a groundhog, I know firsthand what it is like to wait for the Sun to come up all Winter, Spring and, umm, Summer, just so you can see your shadow? Give me a [BLEEP] break already. You know what I regret the most? That I handed him the entire groundhog delegate vote, which was not easy. Trust me. By August we're already preparing to hibernate. Now he picks her over me?"

Just then Punxsutawney Phil’s ride pulled up. 

The driver exited the vehicle, briskly walked around the car and placed one of Punxsutawney Phil’s luggage in the trunk.

As Punxsutawney Phil opened the car door through in his other suitcase, a reporter shouted out one final question, causing the defeated groundhog to pause. 

“What will you do now, Phil?!” 

The groundhog deeply sighed again and then reached into the car, pulling out a red MAGA hat and placed it on his head before turning to face the press.

“What do you [BLEEPING] think?!” yelled out Punxsutawney Phil.

Punxsutawney Phil then got into the car and pulled away to a flood of camera flashes trailing in his wake. 

Photo(s) courtesy of

Copyright (c) 2020 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved. 

Biden Gets Lost During a Friendly Game of Peek-A-Boo at the Airport

Unfortunately, Biden's attempt to entertain the child failed
as the presidential candidate suddenly vanished into thin air
right before the child's eyes. 

-- Washington, DC

By Robert W. Armijo

Joe Biden had been engaged in a game of Peek-A-Boo with a small child while waiting to disembark from his flight in South Carolina today when the 2020 presidential candidate suddenly became confused, disoriented and disappeared from the sight of his staff.  

“Peek-A-Boo,” said Biden to the small child as he held up his two hands to his face. “I see you -- Hey, where [BLEEP] did everybody go?” 

"It was weird," said the father of the small child Biden had been playing the game of Peek-A-Boo. "One second he was there and the next he was gone."  

Biden was later found by airport security sitting on an unclaimed baggage carousel. Going round and round.  

Reportedly, airport security had to tell Mr. Biden to stop putting his hands up to his face, as each time that he would, he would wonder off back to the unclaimed baggage carousel. 

Finally, after several attempts, Biden was eventually reunited with his staff.

Photo(s) courtesy of

Copyright (C) 2020 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Sen. Bernie Sanders's Supporters Offer to Donate Their Hearts…Lungs…Kidneys…to the Recuperating 2020 Presidential Candidate from Vermont

"I am Senator Bernie Sanders 
and I do NOT approve of this message."
-- Washington, D.C.

By Robert W. Armijo

In the aftermath of Senator Bernie Sanders’s heart attack, a hardcore group of his supporters have sent a letter to the 2020 presidential candidate, offering themselves up to the senator as living human organ donors.

Members of the group even took the liberty of marking their bodies with black sharpie markers, outlining their organs to be harvested should the need arise on the campaign trail. 

“He [Sanders] already has my heart,” said Lucy Brown as she lifted up her blouse, exposing her bare chest and pierced nipples. She then grabbed a sharpie and began to draw a perforated dotted line around her heart.

“See?” she said.

Brown then closed her eyelids and began drawing circles around her eyes.

“Now he has my eyes too,” Brown added.

“Ouch!” exclaimed Brown as she dropped the marker and grabbed her left eye.

“Well, I guess he can have just the one,” said Brown.

Other members of the group sat in a giant circle drawing on each other’s backs, indicating which organs they would donate to the senior senator from Vermont.

Suddenly a member of the group stood up and shouted.

“Wait!” said a young man in a Che Guevara style t-shirt with the image of Sanders wearing a beret instead. “Can’t you see this is all wrong?”

Members of the group looked at each other in confusion as they lowered their markers.

“He wouldn’t want us to be marking are young bodies with sharpies as to which organs we’re going to donate to him,” continued the young man. “He wouldn’t want that.”

“No?” Brown questioned as she loosely held the marker in her hand.

“No!” repeated the young man. “He would want us all to get tattoos!”

“You’re right!” echoed Brown as she tossed her sharpie to the ground.

“Because,” added the young man as he pulled a pair car keys from his pocket. “Tattoos don’t wash off with sweat or water or teargas.”

With that, the Bernie Sanders's supporters piled into a flower power decorated VW van and drove off into the sunset headed for the closest tattoo parlor.

Photo(s) courtesy of

Copyright © 2019 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.