It’s Sunday. My girlfriend and I woke up with the determination to turn over a new leaf! We were going to go to church, help old folks cross the street and feed hungry kids. But then we turned on the Sunday morning political shows and changed our minds. There we were met with a wall of blathering Republican sociopaths who want to put the gays in prison (but not the fun type of prison where we get to have 1950’s campy jailhouse movie sex) and poke us with sticks.
So, instead of making the world a better place to live, we drank beer before noon, had gay sex and then smoked a medicinal leafy substance—all to upset our Republican overlords.
I’m not a very political person, mainly because I’m not a very serious person. I do not like to live in reality. I like the type of nature videos that show a beagle adopting a baby alligator. I turn it off before the baby alligator grows up and eats his adoptive mother. It’s the same with politics. I like reading about the loveable traits about politicians—Churchill’s failure as a farmer because he made the mistake of naming all his pigs and cows and, thus, couldn’t slaughter them (and not his alarmingly racist views); Harry Truman’s fondness for Old Fashions and children (and not his blithe attitude toward nuking Japan); Clinton’s eternal spunk (and not his Oval Office spunk….I know, that’s disgusting. Sorry.). I even get a bit weepy when I’d see that moron George Bush cuddling Barney the dog.
But it’s nearly impossible to mine one loveable gem from this desiccated field of Republican lowlifes. They remind me of everyone’s least favorite parents when we were in high school. The super uncool and judgmental adults who will not only call your parents if they catch you drinking in their basement, but will also call the cops and your school’s lady dean, who is always a spinster and really mad that you’re having any fun.
They’re the types who are dementedly involved in their kids’ lives, volunteering to chaperone the prom, hovering over punch-based parties at their homes, and meeting weekly with teachers to ensure that their kids’ get their share of extra-credit work. Inevitably, their kids turn into big freaks once they are let off their leash and sent to college. They’re the first ones to OD, get pregnant, and join a campus cult.
I was never much of a rebel in high school. The only time I misbehaved was when I’d rub up against uptight, self-righteous adults who thought I was a bad influence just because I refused to dress in pastels. They made me want to be bad, and drag their kids down with me. I’d convince them to shoplift, drink Boone’s Farm Wine Coolers, and sleep with one of the bad boys who worked at the service station.
And I’m reacting the same way, now. Every time I see Rick Santorum’s pinched face, I want to get an abortion. I’ve never been pregnant and I’ve never wanted to be, but every time I see that imbecile’s weak chin quiver, I want to call my college boyfriend, ply him with a gin-based drink, and make him get me pregnant, just so I can follow it up with an abortion. Oh, and I really want to sleep with Romney’s wife, because a.) she’s hot; and b.) how dare the Mormons tell me that I can’t have gay sex. I’ll show them by shtupping the top Mormon lady in all the land!
As for all you misguided kids considering voting Republican, don’t do it! Democrats believe that sex between consenting adults is fun and healthy, and that marijuana should be legalized. So give into peer pressure and join the Democratic fun bunch.