Of Michelle Obama in the most elegant of stances, that is.

Yeah, I know, I’ve been hammering Michelle a bit recently, but she’s an easy target, my time is short (deadlines!) and it’ll hopefully upset the sensitive soul that is “jjb”, our newest and nuttiest troll.

Time to wake up, put on my $500+

and go for a

Once that’s done comes a quick change from Shorts Outfit #1 (dog-walking gear) to Shorts Outfit #2 (tourist gear)

before heading back to DC again

Fun’s over: now for the serious stuff.

So, armed with a $900 (or was it $6,000?) handbag

I’m now ready to face world leaders

and their better-halves

Though sparse, I spend what little free time I have after making sacrifices for everyone else tending to my lead-ridden veggie patch

and reading

Great day so far!  I feel

and not

Being FLOTUS, I can call on some help in preparing dinner

before putting on my glad-rags

and hitting the town.

Some haters criticized my choice of clothing, given what was scheduled for before cocktails -- it’s enough to make me

Just time for a quick prayer

before catching some zzz’s (6:17 -- 6:37)

and dreaming of Utopia.

PS -- I’ve just found out that the clip above is un-embeddable, but it’s still up at YouTube and is well worth watching Michelle give in to the Sandman during the funeral proceedings…

This wonderful find comes to us courtesy of Dante, from The Circle Eight.

I know nothing of the setting for the pic (is it perhaps something to do with her forthcoming appearance of some kinda reality tv show?  Did I really read that she’s doing that?), not that that would do much to explain the appearance of 1970s man to Michelle’s right and random orange sock’n'croc wearing tubby to her left, anyway.

But ignore those distractions and focus once again on the First Lady.  She’s apparently squished herself into a dress designed for someone roughly a foot shorter (I know, I detest the metric system, too, but it’s the only way I can measure height…) than she is.

Couple this garish item of clothing with the tiny little cardigan, complete with top button done up,  and it’s almost as if Michelle suffers from Adult Baby Syndrome.  Where did the over-sized bow in her hair go?

She needs help.

No, more help than that.

Much more help.

And not just with her clothes…

Why does she do this?  Did she lose a bet/take a dare?  Let her children pick her wardrobe?  Or does she consciously decide to dress like a bum/clown as often as she can?

Having devoted a little more thought to it, it now appears to me that the makers of the must-have Christmas toy for this year – I’m talking about the Michelle Obama doll, of course – got another design aspect of their product totally wrong (perhaps on purpose): her stance.

Because her legs (when standing, so get your minds out of the gutter, people) seem to repel each other, as do like magnetic poles.  Follow the jump for more pics of Michelle’s hilariously unfeminine posture!

Now I’m not one of those people who think that Michelle was, in fact, born a dude, but, unless she’s trying to lay some eggs or something, that’s kind of a male way of standing.

I’m just sayin’.

And this bargain is brought to us by – no kidding – Jailbreak Toys.

This delightful piece of edutainment for all the Democrat Youth out there comes with three outfits, each tailored to show off her legendary bare arms.

And it makes a wonderful addition to collections of useless Obama trinkets everywhere.

Were you stuck for Christmas stocking fillers?

Not anymore!

PS – Will it talk?  Please let it talk!  If it can scream racism at my command, then I’m totally getting one.

PPS – But if you have to buy a $6,000 designer VBH handbag to go with it, then I don’t want one anymore.

Barry and Michelle have monstrous egos.

Skilled at constantly self-aggrandizing themselves individually, their collective mutual appreciation society is just as vile.

How can those two egomaniacs coexist?  Does one ever let the other speak, or do they both talk over each other all the time in order to hear their own dulcet tones?  Are their iPods filled with content about themselves, as their pathetic gift to Queen Elizabeth II was?

And they don’t just feed off each other’s sense of self-worth.  As is turns out, you and I are good for something (other than paying taxes), after all – we’re good at making the Obamas appreciate their own awesomeness.  Michelle goes to great lengths to inform us little people that everything she does is a sacrifice on her behalf.

Why, without the hindrance of being First Lady, Michelle would have even more time to disgrace the memory of fallen heroes, fall asleep at funerals and get paid six-figures to do nothing of any worth.

Her latest sacrifice was to go to Copenhagen with a pal, the hardships of which led Michelle to moan to the media that,

As much of a sacrifice as people say this is for me or Oprah or the president to come for these few days, so many of you in this room have been working for years to bring this bid home.

Projection, much?  Is anyone, aside from Michelle herself, calling this a sacrifice?

Because having a custom-made designer outfit tailored, flying to Denmark on Air Force One, staying in luxury at a top hotel and schmoozing with the IOC must be dangerously strenuous.  Although, to be fair, putting up with Oprah Winfrey for that entire time would try the patience of a saint.

The sacrifice here, as Michelle sees it, is that she’s going to be rewarding all of her and Barry’s criminal friends in Chicago instead of hubby and herself.

Selfless, indeed.

Now this one I can’t really blame her for.

It’s not very difficult, after all, to figure out why Michelle wouldn’t want to get too close to Silvio Berlusconi…

The first time that I saw this photo, my bladder control momentarily disappeared (only very momentarily, mind you) in indirect fear.

I wasn’t even the subject of the death-stare and that’s the effect it had on me.

Lord only knows the extent of its power face-to-face.  I shudder to think.

And I’m not alone.  Barry’s clearly felt Michelle’s evil eye so often that he no longer even attempts to tell her to open her eyes when she’s choosing clothes.

So if this is the look that Carla Bruni receives, presumably for being super-hot, then can you imagine the Medusa-esque scowls that Michelle must have sent the way of Hillary Clinton?

Because the forthcoming Barack and Michelle: Portrait of an American Marriage claims that it was Michelle who finally staked the idea of Hillary being VP through the heart, asking Barry,

Do you really want Bill and Hillary just down the hall from you in the White House? Could you live with that?

Points for honesty, Michelle, at the very least.

Hillary’s not dumb.  She’s aware of the depth of animosity shared by members of Barry’s inner-circle: so much so that the Clintons placed some of their political operatives within the McCain campaign to run the Democrats for McCain initiative.

Ain’t politics exciting?

Anyway, bearing in mind that Barry barely lets Hillary speak unless he’s given her the nod, I’m anticipating some pretty spectacular fireworks before too long.

Best watch out, Barry – Hill’s got decades of pent-up anger to vent.

To a posthumous awarding of the Medal of Honor ceremony.

Aack.

I think that my eyeballs are trying to turn backwards in their sockets.

Thank you, Michelle Obama’s Mirror’s Blog and Pundit & Pundette.

For an index of Michelle’s crimes against fashion (and vision), click here.

Zzzzzz

…. Silver, sparkly shoes…. *sniffle*…. oppression and injustice…. *itch*…..  ….. the world really, really loves me….. *shuffle*….

Eh?  Whassat?

Just a few minutes more, Mom, then I’ll get up, promise…

Thus was Michelle Obama’s train of thought as she lightly dozed through Edward Kennedy’s funeral, missing the social event of the millennium so far.

A terrorist-supporting killer the man may have been, but falling asleep at his funeral?

That’s just plain rude.

Michelle can be forgiven for being a little tiredy, though: she had, after all, just got back from an energy-sapping vacation.

And please don’t tell me that she was deep in thought or prayer -- that ranks alongside your grandparents claiming that they were just resting their eyes (and trying to catch some flies while they’re at it).

Plus, I’ve so been there.  But, er, not at a funeral.  I’m Catholic, not hugely devout but more committed than many, and one time at church I just could not help falling asleep.  You know how it is: your eyes flicker before shutting, your chin starts to meet your neck and then -- the biggest tell-tale sign of them all -- you snap your head back in a sudden and really obvious I-wasn’t-asleep-oh-no-not-me kinda way.

Only to then promptly repeat the whole routine over and over, until you either give in or start pinching yourself, neither one of which is exactly normal behavior in the house of the Lord.

But, as ever with the Obamas, look not to their actions but to their words, as what does a person’s deeds really tell you?

Really?

PS -- Kennedy’s passing was good for something, young girls and waitresses aside: my traffic got a small bump!  Thank you, Ted!

PPS -- Jeez, my “PS” has belatedly given me a slight twinge of guilt (no wonder Kennedy got so far).  It’s not that I’m glad that he’s dead -- that would be horrible.  It’s just that I don’t care.  Better?