So I'm doing this hippie phone bank thingy called Call for Change, right? This woman calls me and informs me that their goal for me is 90 voter contacts before election day. I promptly scoff at her. 90? Puh-leese. Try
nine million.
So why am I writing about it? I'll tell you why.
Because I am going to whoop every one of your sorry asses.
You can kiss my ass after the jump....
You Kossacks or whatever you call yourselves nowadays have absolutely
no chance of beating me. Hell, your ground game has historically been as effective as a late night dorm trip by Mark Foley. I have no qualms in saying that I know that not a single one of you will get off your granola eatin' asses to do a thing to mobilize our voters.
Because I know that, I am going to have to pick up your slack, as always. Hell, I got kids to take care of and I care about their future. For the next few days, I might not see much of them, because I'll be busy mowing you fools under at calling for those commies over at MoveOn.org. My only goal is to beat you.
You won't win in our little contest because you want the terrorists to win. Hell, the Preznit even said so the other day. Sucks for our country, but he is right about you guys. If it were up to you, Osama bin Laden would be the Grand Marshall of your un-American parade, which you would hold every day at the same time like it was your own personal DisneyWorld.
Hell, not only are you crap as Americans, but so are your kids. Your kids' kids will be, too. No Child Left Behind is nothing more than the final push over the cliff; it wouldn't take too much to reduce you moonbats to the simpering morons you are anyway.
So don't make any calls. Don't. Even. Bother. You won't make a difference anyway. You probably can't even read the script their lackeys will supply for you. Even if you made a difference (which you won't), I will still tear you up like the swaggering, cock-swinging, Republican-eating, macho bastard I am.
You can't hit 90 voter contacts. But don't worry, I'll do it for you.
Chumps.