Senator Obama Plays Politics with Gun Owners Too...

As we all listen to The One (tm) mock Sen. Clinton's pandering to "sportsmen" (NOT gun owners, you'll notice. Nor do any ladies shoot.) with her first reference to holding a gun in thirty five years of public life, this might be interesting:

It’s to persuade as many people as I can, across the ideological spectrum, that my vision of the future is compatible with their values, and can make their lives a little bit better. Thus, while I may favor common-sense gun control laws, that doesn’t keep me from reaching out to NRA members...

Speaking of ladies shooting and small towns, I nominate this for his new theme song.

My neighbours are tired of hearing it, it's best loud.Plus, it was filmed near the hunt. And the Miss Lambert looks kind of like Hotgirl, which is funny given that whole story. AND, she's from a small town, and SHOOTS!!!!!

UPDATE! Here are the fresh new lyrics I wrote-

Barack says life is so much sweeter
through the telephoto lens of fame.
Around here we don’t get any attention
from administrations as they change.

I dreamed of going to the steel mill.
Get myself some good old union work.
But it closed down way back in 1980
And I blamed myself and felt just like a jerk.

Every broke one, put upon, loser here has a story to tell,
Every trailer livin’, Idol watchin deadbeat here
maybe knows it just a little too well
If you're shootin’ a deer or you're drunk on beer,
gone to church or hatin'on Mexicans,
Everybody is bitter in a small town.

All of the factories closed up
Back when Jimmy Carter ruled the land
We know that those Union wages had no equal,
So since then we’ve been sitting on our hands.

Every beat down, wears a frown xenophobe's got a story to tell
Every gun nut, bigot, idiot
Maybe knows it just a little too well
If you’re a Jesus freak, turn the other cheek
Don't you blame it on the Democrats,
Everybody is bitter in a small town.

Baby who
Gets their faces in a magazine
Me and you
We've been stuck in this town since we were 17

Let's go on down to the rally,
In our worn out trucks and our
ragged old blue jeans.
And we'll Cheer like hell
For Saint Barack Obama,
‘Cause he’s the one who really understands.

Every helpless, clueless country hick’s got a story to tell.
And THE ONE will listen, nod and smile
We won’t hate black folks or be scared of hell.
We’re just red necks, but with special checks,
We’ll know how to vote from this time on
We’ll no longer be bitter in a small town