Dear U.S. voting public:

Suck my ass. Suck my ass so hard that my colon turns inside out and pops into your mouth, where it will leave a brackish and oniony taste that lingers and will not fade, your desperate efforts with Certs and Tic Tacs notwithstanding.

Also: Tongue my cheesy hoop, you quivering blobs of used McDonald's.

Also: Up yours. And up yours. And up yours. With a wire brush.

...

Once upon a time here in The Centre Of The Universe, we felt warm and fond feelings for our friends to the south. Oh, how we loved our friends to the south! They had given us Bob Newhart and California cabernets and the Super Bowl. They had given us The Amazing Race. They had given us Us magazine. They had given us Oprah Winfrey and Dan Savage and Pastor Benny Hinn. We treasured these gifts. We treasured our friends to the south.

Then our friends to the south had an election to see who would get to be their president. It was a lot like a soufflé, that election. It started out with terrific promise, but it caved in on itself when somebody opened the oven door, so afterward eveybody had lawsuits instead of dessert.

The lawsuits went to the Supreme Court Of Our Friends To The South. In the end, the judges awarded the presidency to a man who was both comic-book evil and funny-pages stupid. You know how the previous president had trouble keeping his wiener out of the warm welcoming mouths of lovely women? Well, the new president had similar trouble keeping his ordnance from blowing limbs off small children in the Middle East.

As you can imagine, this was just rotten. But here in The Centre Of The Universe, we still felt warm feelings for our friends to the south. It wasn't their fault. We felt their embarrassment and their shame. We knew they wanted the monkey out of office as much as we did.

Then our friends to the south had another election. In this election, our friends to the south voted to keep the monkey in office.

"Hm," we said.

Next, our friends to the south voted to make it 100% hella illegal for certain kinds of people to get married to certain the same kinds of people. Particularly, they voted to make it illegal for men to get married to men or for women to get married to women. They did this for the following reason: If a man puts his wiener in another man's bum, it makes the Creator Of All Things sad. It makes the Creator Of All Things horribly, apocalyptically sad, in a way that, say, blowing the hands off a three-year-old does not.

We realized that our friends to the south had themselves become comic-book evil and funny-pages stupid. So now they can all suck my ass.

On a cheerier note, if you are one of the O.F. Original Friends to the south who voted against the evil and stupid president, you should move here to the Centre Of The Universe. I will give you a nice floopy Roots hat and make you a bowl of soup.

Love,

Bret

Posted by Bret at November 4, 2004 11:11 PM