Five years ago, George W Bush woke up from his cocaine induced slumber, brushed the vomit off his face, unplugged Karl Rove's vibrator from his anus, turned on Fox News and breathed a sigh of relief. America had spoken. Rather, America had giggled coyly, hidden her shy face behind her mother's skirt and whispered, "I do". Then, during the conjugal moment, just as America had begun to gently slide off her little black dress from her shoulders and suggestively parted her legs a bit wider, looking at Bush as if to ask him to come, take her, but be gentle, Bush had grinned back at America, screamed maniacally, whipped out his leather harness, jumped on top of her, slapped her right across her startled face, asked her who her daddy was, bitch, and started riding her like there would be no tomorrow. And the rest, as they say, was history.
Then, four years later, it was time for a battered and bleeding America to renew her vows. The same choice to make. Trying to smile through her bruised eyes, she looked at Bush, who promised her that this time it would be different. This time, he cooed soothingly, he would take care of her. In fact, he said, if America left him for another man, he was pretty sure that America would be torn apart by mad wolves, bombed to shreds by evil bearded men who were lurking in the woods behind her house and that only he had the balls and the foreskin to protect her. America, with a battered woman's futile hopefulness, hesitatingly agreed. But you know Bush, he doesn't change. No sir, he is the steadfast, single minded cowboy each of us can only dream of becoming. Once again, he began his systematic violation of America's womanhood, and this time he dragged her former best friend, poor little Rest Of The World, who had been lying curled up into a ball in the corner, into the mix. And then, Bush ordered America to make brutal love to the Rest Of The World, while he watched from his favorite seat in front of the tv, and stroked himself to a wailing climax. And the rest, again, as they say, was history.
I, however, was not a party to all of this. Being a temporary alien in this country, I could not cast a vote. But, I was determined to make a difference. And I did. This is how I stole Pennsylvania from George W Bush's greedy fingers.
It was election day, and the work day was over. I was frantically making last minute requests to my colleague, a Bush supporter, to change his mind about voting for Bush. I put forth all of my talking points against our president. How the Iraq war was all a big scam, just an excuse to get at it's oil, to line the pockets of all his buddies in Halliburton. And why the war was going to virtually make it certain that thirty years from now, our childen would be fighting the same people as we were fighting right now. And how he had fucked up the war, by dismantling the Iraqi army, by allowing looting and pillaging while protecting the Iraqi oil ministry. How his tax cuts did not contain a shred of logic. How his intelligence was on par with that of an unborn fetus. How he had stripped the country of it's secular credentials, and given a free reign to Christian zealots in running the country. How he had become America's big brother, keeping a watchful eye on America through a video camera as she took a shower.
And we argued back and forth, talking points flew across faster than a baseball coach's spittle. But it was all useless. The guy refused to listen to me. And then, as we wrapped up our debate, standing in the parking lot, he looked at his watch and said, "Shit it's 9:00. Ah heck, I'm too tired to go and vote now. See you tomorrow."
And so, this is how I fought hard and won the purple battleground state of Pennsylvania for John Forbes Kerry. Even though it was all for nothing in the end, it was somewhat of a solace for me that I had tried my best and given it my best shot. Now let me go back to my slumbers and wake me up in 2008.
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