Is it any wonder…REALLY…that a guy with a made up birth certificate and a made up Selective Service registration would have a made up girlfriend with whom he had a made up conversation, recounted in what is supposed to be his actual autobiography?

Seriously, it should come as no surprise. No surprise at all.

“One night I took her to see a new play by a black playwright. It was a very angry play, but very funny. Typical black American humor. The audience was mostly black, and everybody was laughing and clapping and hollering like they were in church. After the play was over, my friend started talking about why black people were so angry all the time. I said it was a matter of remembering—nobody asks why Jews remember the Holocaust, I think I said—and she said that’s different, and I said it wasn’t, and she said that anger was just a dead end. We had a big fight, right in front of the theater. When we got back to the car she started crying. She couldn’t be black, she said. She would if she could, but she couldn’t. She could only be herself, and wasn’t that enough.”

Never happened. Oh it IS in his autobiography, “Dreams From my Father” but this girlfriend never really existed.

Obama himself now says she was a “Compression” of several girlfriends.

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