See what you make of this.

#1

gsvol

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#1
Funny stuff surrounding this guy who spends $2.3 million to avoid producing a simple $12 document; a document we’re assured, has nothing to hide, but of course, must be hidden. Because it has nothing to hide you see. Therefore, it must be hidden.

And why, in 2006, does an Hawaiian newspaper say Barry was born in Indonesia? Guess he was just born everywhere. No wonder he’s a “citizen of the world”. His miraculous birth occurred everywhere.

Duckworth working to win | The Honolulu Advertiser | Hawaii's Newspaper

“Duckworth is happy to point out that she and Hawai’i-raised Punahou graduate Obama have “a kama’aina connection.”

Both were born outside the country — Obama in Indonesia, Duckworth in Thailand — and graduated from high school in Honolulu — Punahou and McKinley, respectively.”

NOW WE KNOW WHY

Or, where's the beef??

The issue now is not even Obama’s legitimacy. Its the fact that simply discussing it has been prohibited.
 
#2
#2
Oddly enough, that same paper announced Obama's birth when it happened. It couldn't be that Will Hoover made a mistake in an article he wrote. That's leans a bit to far on the common sense side of things for you accept it.
 
#3
#3
If I printed it out, I could make a hat...or a broach...
 
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#5
#5
Oddly enough, that same paper announced Obama's birth when it happened. It couldn't be that Will Hoover made a mistake in an article he wrote. That's leans a bit to far on the common sense side of things for you accept it.

At this point I simply must stop and compliment your highly honed powers of intellect, you never miss a blip.























RadarMASH.jpg


If I printed it out, I could make a hat...or a broach...

Yes, but if you made a hat or a broach, could you get leied by origami??

Reminds me of a conversation with a songwriter who wrote one song that made a carreer for a top singer/entertainer.

He once asked me; "you know when I first started liking you?"

"When?"

Then he retold the story of our first meeting.

We were in a famous watering hole with seats at the bar, he on my right, and he started to tell me a story about picking cotton as a ladd in Alabama.

Just as he started the story, a guy on my left, big gut, big hat, big cigar and all, bellowed out; "boy you ain't never picked no cotton."

I already knew quite a bit about the songwriter through mutual friends and the glare on his eye tipped me off that I might just a sample of his famously high temper and so I slipped from my stool leaned forward with one hand on my stool and one on the bar so as to shove off, taking my stool with me so as to not impede anyone's progress should words morph into actions.

The big hat, big cigar guy almost immediately saw the error of his ways and turned to me and in an attempt to change the subject asked; "what do you do?"

My friend said he liked my reply - "that sir would be none of your damned business," at which time big cigar vacated his stool in a hurried manner, leaving his drink, which I drank, i'm always in favor of free drinks.

Anyway the songwriter I'm talking about married a Japanese girl while he was in Japan once and attends a family reunion with her family every year in Hawaii.

Her name isn't Origami though but he says that it seems now that every other person in Honolulu is of Japanese descent.
 

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