First, fill in the lines as you think Barack Obama would. Then read my filler that serves no purpose but to make the actual mad-lib be a scroll or two down the page. Then scroll down the page and compare your answers to Obama’s.
Mode of transportation_______
Now fill your answers into this mad-lib: “The other day I was [gerund] down the street with my [noun 1] when I saw a big smelly [noun 2]. This [noun 2] had [noun 3] written all over it. As we approached, my [noun 1] turned to me and said, “Please tell me you’re not actually thinking of [gerund] past that thing.” I said, “Don’t worry, boy; now that I know you can [verb 1], I’m going right to the [place] to [verb 2] you in on a [noun 4]!” My [noun 1] looked down and said, “[exclamation 1]. I mean, [exclamation 2].” “Too late!” I said, and hailed a [mode of transportation] to take us to the [place].
Okay, we talk a bunch of politics at work, mainly because work is boring and politics sometimes isn’t. Anyway, I have a pretty good impression of John McCain I do when I’m talking about McCain’s strategy. I switch to my craziest old man voice and say things like, “I was in a tiger cage, see?! I don’t need to pick a vice presidential candidate! I’m going to name Ho Chi Minh to the VP spot and you’re going to like it, you hear me?!” But I don’t have an Obama impersonation, mainly because the guy doesn’t really have an eccentric trait to exploit. This led me to use my McCain voice today when talking about both presidential candidates. The Friendly Jerk said, “Was that McCain you were doing? I thought you were talking about both candidates?” So I got to thinking, what type of Obama impression can I do? And I think I came up with something. If you’re thinking like I’m thinking, your Obama mad-lib will look something like this.
The other day I was changing down the street with my hope when I saw a big smelly change. This change had hope written all over it. As we approached, my hope turned to me and said, “Please tell me you’re not actually thinking of changing past that thing.” I said, “Don’t worry, boy; now that I know you can hope, I’m going right to the White House to change you in on a dream!” My hope looked down and said, “Hope. I mean, change.” “Too late!” I said, and I hailed a revolution of the proletariat to take us to the White House.
How many did you get right? You see, all it takes to be an Obama impersonator is to use the words “hope” and “change” (and, sometimes, just to keep people sharp, “dream,”) indiscriminately. In fact, my Obama impression consists of throwing in the phrase “hope and/or change” at random places in a sentence. (Like in high school our impression of a particular teacher’s inner monologue always ended with, “Why am I so fat?” as if all her thoughts ended that way. It was hilarious to us. In fact, it’s still quite funny to me now.)