Oscar Mayer For President: Bologna 2012

                   
                                              

Mitt Romney would like to cordially invite you, the flea-ridden, syphilitic rabble to a kick-ass party at his vacation home. Figuratively speaking, of course.

       As we hunker down and enter into the super-serious phase of this year's spellbinding Republican primaries, I am filled with the giddiness of a hundred giggling geisha girls, because I simply cannot wait to see who will emerge as the gallant victor (the one tin soldier who rides away, if you will), and who will be reduced to a mere fluffer for him in the big race, in which the heretofore unnamed knight in shining armor has a very real chance of coming out on top, since the aforementioned primaries they are having right out now are most assuredly not some kind of pointless tallest-dwarf contest.

Were this a fitting metaphor, which it is so completely not, Romney would be the one on the right.

       I can liken the unrestrained jubilation I will feel if the guy who I have a hunch is gonna win this thing does in fact prevail to when my favorite Toddlers and Tiaras contestant really puts on the ritz and nails her routine.

Here, the only inconsistency is that Romney's mother is dead.

       But that person will be bound to encounter some stiff competition from the likes of sitting President Barack Obama and overnight sensation General Joseph Kony.

       Though Kony may in fact be running for President of the World. I am not exactly clear on this and at my earliest convenience I will google it to make sure. But for the time being let's just assume that they are the two front-runners, or evil supervillains, if you will, while Romney is the hero that Gotham deserves. And let us not forget for a second that Mittens has spent years doing undercover work as a liberal, closing tax loopholes and providing near-universal healthcare and doing other communist shit, in the overwhelmingly treasonous state of Massholechusetts--all for the sake of learning exactly what makes these freedom-haters tick, and most likely at the behest of Lady Liberty Herself.

       So suffice it to say he knows the meaning of sacrifice. This is a guy who during the Vietnam War had the guts to speak out in favor of the draft, while other students at Stanford University were protesting against it, and then he had the temerity and backbone to abscond to Europe for 30 months to be a fucking Mormon missionary, in the incomprehensible squalor of places like Paris, and incidentally to get ministerial deferment while he was there, and then come back to the States and get another student deferment; and this is also a guy who then had the good luck to get a high number in the draft lottery, thus ensuring he would never serve a day in the actual war, and all this while his father just happened to be Governor of Michigan and then Secretary of Housing and Urban Development under über-patriot Richard Nixon. I mean this Mitt Romney fellow is practically jizzing red, white and blue.

       The great Governor Rick Perry may or may not have said that the candidate who prays the hardest will become the next president, and despite the fact that awhile back he held what could only be described as the Lollapalooza of praying and was subsequently eliminated from the race, I still think that statement is categorically true, and that anyone who doesn't believe in the awesome power of politically motivated prayer risks incurring God's wrath and triggering another one of His signature BP oil spills. And that's why I believe that Mitt Romney is our man. Indeed, Mitt Romney is a man who prays so feverishly that he makes MC Hammer look like Friedrich Nietzsche.

       And if Rick Perry ever decides to write a book on how to pray your way right into the highest of offices, he might want to include that you should first and foremost not have a hunting camp called "Niggerhead," because even if you are the Nancy Kerrigan of praying, it will turn out to be your Gillooly in the end. Except you will not go on to win an Olympic medal, I'm afraid.

       But I would say that Romney is more like Oksana Baiul, whom as you may recall brought home the gold that year. And nowhere is his champion spirit more abundantly apparent than in the rearing of his litter of five wonderful boys, who have all turned out to be so nightmarishly similar to him that it is almost as if they were a race of cyborgs spawned from his patriarchal prototype, and sent to Earth with the express purpose of inundating us with news of his greatness, and not merely his organic if antiseptically conceived crotch fruit.

       And certainly his glowing resplendence of character is evident in his prowess as a financier, which is also why he is so thoroughly qualified to save the horribly ailing economy, which is definitely not in a steady pattern of recovery, and most importantly to create jobs, which stuttering dickbeard Barack Obama is failing at so miserably that job seekers are just giving up and presumably going off to live in a cave somewhere and possibly becoming Islamic militants, and if you are not quite buying that steaming pile of shit, then he is still not doing it nearly fast enough. That's why we need the guy whose business model consisted of fucking companies in the ass with an opportunistic dildo and giving workers the shit-end instead of their pensions...intentionally causing the loss of thousands of jobs so that he could do things like buy a $12 million dollar beachfront home in California and tear it down so he could build another one four times as big. Seriously, fuck this guy and the horse he rode in on.


     

Mitt Romney's business model as CEO of Bain Capital

poem.

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