| Friday, January 06, 2006 |
| Lose Yourself |
Dear Pat Robertson,
Thanks for trying to help out, but we don't think we need you anymore. You've become everyone's favorite crazy uncle- always putting your foot in your mouth whenever you speak. We never know what you're going to say next. From calling down God's wrath on a small Pennsylvania town, to calling for political assassinations of South American dictators, you've always kept us guessing what you'll say next. We'll admit: it's been somewhat entertaining.
But you've changed, to much for us to stomach anymore. We when you find yourself on the same side as the President of Iran [the same guy who believes the Holocaust was a myth], you've probably gone too far. Calling Ariel Sharon's stroke a punishment from God because he handed over the Gaza Strip to the Palestinians? Come on, Pat. Now you've become that embarrassing uncle- the one who likes to expose himself in public. No one wants to see that at family reunions; we're trying to eat here.
Plus, as a result of you're comments, we keep having to apologize for you all over town. Whenever we talk about the family, everyone brings up our demented Uncle Pat who goes around waving his "privates" at people. We can't keep putting out your fires. It's getting old . . . kinda like you. That's why we're suggesting that it's time to hang it up.
You had a good run there, Pat. I mean, you ran for President! Isn't that enough? Why not find a good retirement community where you can say all the crap you want while playing Bridge [far, far away from any microphones]? It's about that time. We hear Florida's nice this time of year. And you look pretty good in flip-flops.
Sincerely,
Sane Christians Everywhere
p.s. We'll let you know about the location for Thanksgiving dinner. We're thinking about cancel this year. |
yet another musing of steve-o @ 7:50:00 AM  |
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