Putting on my Brooks Brothers navy suit and Folex watch I decided to sneak into bars (taverns are too gay for Republicans) and talk to them about their feelings, I mean rantings, about Al Franken being officially declared the winner of the Minnesota senate race. I was certain I would get an earful but I was surprised at how willing they were to speak truth to power when nobody but me and was listening. I must warn you, be very afraid because that's what Jesus would want.
"This is proof no matter how much you game the system, democracy just doesn't work any more," railed Billbeau Teabaggins.
"I think Al Franken stolt the election by dressing up as all his veryus charactors from his Saturday Night Life days and voted mulletiple times!" howled T. Baggs
"Won't somebody think of the children? Please, think of the children!" shrieked Jasmine T. Strainer and a then a moment later her face lit up after she glanced at her Whiteberry. "Oh wait, look at this tweet! Amazon is thinking of our precious children and their sacred bodily fluids. God bless Bezos!"
"Franken must've spammed my coke dealer's cell and I never made it to the polls that faithful day because I was at home waiting for [the coke dealer's] call," sobbed Earl Gray as he frantically fidgeted.
"ACORNholes and Soros' mutant zombie army slaughtered about five thosuand Republicans before the election and teh librul media reported it as them all going Galt on some island in the south Pacific but I have proof--lemme look for the link at prisonplanet.com--that it was all a conspiracy to metaphorically thin the voter rolls through execution style vanishings," nervously proclaimed a provocateur who went by the moniker Red Zinger.
"I was so busy fighting off vampire blood suckers from stealing all my great economy changing, paradigm shifting ideas from my brain that by the time I had staked them all I realized it was 3:30 in the morning and the election was over and I was covered in blood," confessed Buff T. Sumners
"I'm a huge fan of Beck's 9/12 movement, which, it just fills me up with hatred that people," he starts to gently sob in a manly way, "that people would try and steal this election, which is a direct contradiction of being an honest American, but we all know that liberals can't be honest about anything. If you say the sky is blue they'll tell you it's azure because it the politcally correct thing to do. Well, I am sick and tired of azure skies and I'm sick and tired of those unions depressing my wages and shipping our jobs to China, which is why I voted for Coleman in five different counties under the aliases of Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, the Big Bopper, Prudence Goodwyfe--like Rudy I love wearing women's clothes, and Humphrey Boa-gart," rambled S. S. Teabobs.
"My mistress had me tied up and strapped down on the bed and said she was punishing me for being a bad, naughty boy for being aroused by pictures of Larry Craig. She spanked me so much I fell unconscious and by the time I woke it was Friday. I think she might have roofied me, too. I had hell of a time explaining where'd I been to my wife, but I finally said, 'Look, I'm the man you gotta trust me that I have our family's best interests at heart because it is my God given duty to promote our good, moral values so shut up and stop pestering me or I'm going to take away your allowance,' which finally stopped her squawking," explained a burly man who called himself Morning Thunder.
"I wish we hadn't ordred the execution of Michael Connell after the last election cycle. I guess we should've ponied up that twenty million he wanted and we could've had him hack the results again but I wasn't thinking about the big picture and for that I am, wait, was I about to say I was regretful over something? Of course, I am not regretful, I did what had to be done! And you can't handle the truth! If we had only gone with my plan we'd be living in bunkers with ten women for every man," grumbled K. Rove.
"We frakkin lost because we ran a pathetic fear mongering campaign that only appeals to people in the south and Minnesotans aren't southern," pontificated David Frum as a crowd gathered around him to string him up for blasphemy.