The consequences of Obama’s culinary habits are considered:
I’ve eaten some strange things in my day. Living in Japan, for example, we occasionally broke our fast with orange juice and octopus tentacles, which most assuredly is not the breakfast of champions. There was the squid pizza at the Pizza Hut, the burned caramelized meatloaf that was a Chinese chef’s gracious, but misguided, attempt to make a hamburger for the American, and live shrimp plucked from the pool, cut in half and served freshly twitching. I tried whale, which is dark maroon and too rich to eat more than a few bites, as well as some bitter sea creatures that are only delicacies by virtue of their rarity; I half-expected that they would glow if we turned the lights out.
Obama really has no one to blame for this but his supporters. If they hadn’t tried to make hay out of Romney’s foolish exercise in canine transportation, Romney’s supporters likely wouldn’t have gotten on Obama’s case for his childhood cuisine.