Dear Uncle Ted –
I’m unsure what to do — perhaps you can help me.
I love America. I’m maverick-y. I was born with a vagina and I wear lipstick. I firmly believe that Sarah Palin is the right choice for me. However, my husband, per the Bible’s instruction, doesn’t allow me to have opinions. Is it right for me to share my feelings with him, or should I just shut my mouth if I know what’s good for me?
Thank you —
*Subservient in Saginaw
First of all – I’m sad that the first person to write into AFUT calling themselves subservient isn’t the right kind of subservient, Subservient. I thought this was going to be an email about safety words. (I prefer “Portnoy,” though “Michael Chabon” is good also, though tough to pronounce around a ball gag.)
Secondly – You’re making it difficult for me to decide who’s the bigger idiot, SiS. It appears the dynamic you and your husband have could keep a team of psychiatrists, progressive Christian marriage counselors, pollsters and anthropologists flush with cash during these tough times. You owe it to yourself, your husband and the American economy to sit him down and start talking about how you really feel about the Alaskan governor. And pray that the Lord forgives you for your disobedience.
Dear Uncle Ted,
How do you think Sarah Palin did last night at the convention?
Maggie – I think she hit a home run. Her stance on gun control, reproductive rights, family values – what’s not to love? She was so wonderful, with her thin, watery delivery and her bland yet infuriating distortion of the Democratic platform. I like her so much, I’m holding a fundraiser for the GOP in the backyard this weekend! You should come on down! I’ll be inviting the local NRA chapter, some anti-abortion activists, and Levi Johnston. We’ll be shooting a bison with an XM8 automatic assault rifle and roasting it on a spit while hearing from our Minutemen friends about how Mexicans are creeping across the border and eating our children and the elderly and sucking the blood out of our dogs and cats. Like vampires. Deportable, non-English-speaking vampires.
Yes. Come on down to Uncle Ted’s house this weekend. Have some fun. Drink some beer. But make sure to leave before the “cake” arrives. It’s going to be like one of those bachelor-party things you see in old sitcoms, except instead of strippers, it’ll be filled with frosting-covered Brady-Campaign-To-Prevent-Gun-Violence/Planned-Parenthood-trained Samurai, who will make short work of the right-wingers in attendance slowed down by the Corona and the bison steaks. Anyone left alive will be treated to a reading from Dreams of My Father, followed by ice cream.
I hope that little firecracker from Juneau shows up! I really, really, really, really, really do.
Posted in Politics
Tagged assault rifle, Bison, Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence, Corona, Howard Dean, Levi Johnston, Minutemen, NRA, Planned Parenthood, Republican Convention, RNC, Samurai, Sarah Palin
Dear Uncle Ted,
Is Joe Lieberman a traitor to his party or a patriot for his country?
– Asking Joe To Say It Ain’t So
AJTSIAS, one part of me wants to commend him for his willingness to sacrifice the goodwill of his former party for what he believes in. Another part of me wants to break a 2-by-4 across his pelvis for lending his support to a 137-year-old hypocrite who chose a whore-mongering moose-rapist as a running mate after following the failed ideals of his party rightward in a cynical pursuit of the White House.
What I’m trying to say, AJTSIAS, is: I’m torn. Joe’s not a bad guy. But one has to wonder if he’s been waiting out filibusters in an alcove near the Senate chamber, huffing bags of taxpayer-subsidized diesel.
Where have you gone, Joe?
P.S. I’d like to apologize for calling Gov. Palin a whore-monger. It’s an unfair and wholly reprehensible characterization. She did the best she could. Her daughter’s business is none of ours.
P.P.S. That being said, I’d like that girl’s phone number. Once she’s had that idiot hockey player’s baby, I get the feeling she’s gonna want something more stable. You know. With an older dude. Rrrrrowr.