August 15, 2011

"Breaking News: Rick Perry Doesn't Give a Shit."

I didn’t have a chance to read the paper this morning – but can anyone verify if the following headline graced the front page . .


Anyone? No? You didn’t see it on your copy of the Jackson Constitutional? Don’t go checking that paper now – I totally made it up. Obvi. I didn’t want to single out any/all of the newspaper editors who are kicking themselves in the ass right now for not using some variation of my headline – papers would have flown off the shelves! If only!

I can’t tell you how many times, in the past – when I’ve been listening to the news or radio or glancing over someone’s shoulder while they were scanning the days’ latest CNN tweets (I thought it was a scandalous text message – so sue me!) – I come across a story about Iran or South Korea or Argentina – or (in my younger days) Cuba – and all of their jack-ass moves, their blatant disregard for world safety, the prosperity and/or lives of their populations, or (most importantly) what the MF’ing U.S. of A has told them to do. Bastards. Anyway – the first thing that always pops in my head is the following (it comes across in a Walter Cronkite voice, by the way – come on – work with me) . . .

which, I interpret to mean:


Am I wrong? No – I am never wrong.

Anyway – as you all know – Michele Bachmann barely beat out Ron Paul to win the Iowa Straw Poll (what? Is this before or after we light our corn cob pipes?)  - and I say to her: “Go On Girl!” . . . Like, seriously, go the fuck on out of here. We’ll get on Michele Bachmann some other time, when I have the patience for it. That raspy ignorance gets on my last goddamn nerve. And 23 foster kids? What is this? An Annie re-make? Who gets to be Daddy Warbucks?

Silly me – Rick Perry is Daddy . . Warbucks that is. You all know I love Texans – George Bush was not lying when he detailed the swagger Texan men display – and they all do. All of them. Yes – really. I swear it. Those narrow eyes that match his narrow mind – damnit to hell – he gets me. Not mentally – but, you know – if I needed a calf wrassled or some shit (and I have in the past – trust and believe.)

So its clear, now that he’s announced his run for the American Presidency – Perry’s big man on campus. Hate him or hate him – you have to admire his jack-ass-ness. Declaring his run on the day all those other pesky GOP candidates are up at 5 in the morning serving tea and strumpets? Bitch please. Perry doesn’t have time for that shit. He doesn’t have time – and he could care less. And that’s the maverick in him. A dumbed down George W. (Apparently, it is possible).

I do wonder though – in an age when everyone is declaring that Washington is broken, and that America is still kicking (and screaming, in my opinion) – what does it mean when such a favored candidate throws out a figurative “Fuck You” to his fellow party-members and running . . . mates? I mean how do we take it? I really don’t care – just like Rick – because I’m still bumping the “My President is Black” remix – but – for all you heartless Republicans out there – I mean, really? For realz? (That last translation was for Herman Cain, obvs).

I’m not saying – but I’m just saying. How are we (you) going to reach across the aisle, GOP? It seems all the reaching you’re doing is with a glove filled with pebbles in your grasp – and I, for one, will not turn the other cheek! (Who’s going to apply my rouge, I mean, really?)

Personally, I relished Rick Perry’s squinted knife-twisting to Michele Bachmann. Fucking loved it. Its totally something I would do. Hellz Yes. I mean Rick and I are almost alike – except that I went to Texas’ public Ivy – not some washed up Technical poor-fort building school. Whatevs.

Anyway; the road to 2012 is starting to heat up – and I don’t know about you; but I’ve got my Yankee cap on and lasso ready.


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