A Tale from the BlancaSphere
It’s official. The party of Lincoln is dead. The party of Reagan has been on life support for some time and is not expected to recover.
Over the past two years I have watched my beloved party become a cesspool of impropriety.
If it wasn’t mens room toe tapping, it was underage page picking up.
If it wasn’t bribery scandals, it was lobbyist scandals.
It it wasn’t drunken uncontrolled spending, it was drunken uncontrolled drinking.
Where did we go wrong? I mean all we asked for was complete unquestioned authority. We didn’t need checks and balances. That’s for pussies. We certainly didn’t need any kind of an opposition party. That kind of crap is for Old Europe. This is the New World Order, and we can write our own rules.
It looked good there for a while. We managed to have it all. Commander Guy was at the helm, we had Tom Foley running the show in the House, and in the Senate, with the VD in charge. We had it our way.
Then came that bastard Jim Jeffords. I will never forgive him. He threw the Senate back to those Democrats, and it looked like we were going to have to compromise and cooperate.
But then, as if to answer our prayers, came 9/11. Oh, I remember it just like yesterday. It was great. We once again had complete control of everything. It was finally in vogue to just do what we told you. Man, that was cool!
Then came Iraq. It looked great at first. I mean we owed it to the Decider for saving us from the al Queda by reading that book to those children in Florida. He deserved to have a war. That way he got to play dress up and fly onto that aircraft carrier.
Just thinking about his cod piece gets this girl’s blood flowing!
And then things started to go south. Iraq was no longer the fun and games we thought it would be. The shine was coming off, and underneath it looked like bad primer. Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.
And then it got ugly. The populace turned on us. They started to hiss at us. Even our proxies, like Ann Coulter were getting pies in the face.
Then, it became downright scary. People blamed us for Katrina. Damn those black folk drowning on us like that! And damn those TV choppers with cameras! Why didn’t those NOLA folks have the decency to drown when no one was filming?
People seemed to get all testy about our knowing better about life ending issues than a husband and his wife. I don’t understand, but they just didn’t like us passing a law that applied to one brain dead chick in Florida. I think that was the moment when the wheels came off.
Then all those sex scandals made us look really bad. It was getting to the point a Republican couldn’t even try to pick up a prostitute in a bar without getting fingered–and not in the good way.
I mean what is the world coming to when you can’t pick up the phone and have your gay male gigolo come over for some oil “massages” and crystal meth?
So here we stand, with our presumptive nominee for 2008 a RINO, a poser, a wannabe. And our Commander Guy has finally succeeded where no other President has. His approvals are the lowest ever. I think it is time to start the funeral pyre and get out while the getting is good.
I have been working on my plea to have Mike Huckabee run as a third party candidate. All conservatives should join me, for the sake of the union. This new party will embrace all the finer things about the Republican party, and bring together true neoconservatives, true religious conservatives, and all the groups which hate all the right people. We will call it the Conservative party, because Nazi was already taken.
Together we can forge ahead into the 16th Century, when men were men, and women were property.
Actually, a lot of men were property, too.
It will be great. It will make the Ghost of Jerry Falwell proud. I’m sure he’ll be looking up at us and smile as his dreams of anal invasion are fulfilled for all eternity.
by Blanca DeBree
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