No more Texas governors for president

inothernews:

Mitt listened carefully to the voice piping through the headphones.  Don’t say anything stupid, it intoned.  Don’t blow this.  Don’t fuck this up.  And as he contemplated his next soundbite, the son of the former Michigan governor, the founder of Staples and general rich guy sifted through the verbs and nouns and adverbs and stuff inside his coiffed, pomaded, sculpted head and heard nothing but a rattle akin to pebbles inside an empty, spinning oil drum.

Also the rain was starting to drip down the back of his neck below the collarline of his red Daytona 500 commemorative racing jacket onto his carefully pleated patterned shirt and it was irritating, irritating like when his illegal immigrant gardening crew hacked too much off the rose bushes or cut the grass around his manse to the wrong height, he likes the blades of grass just long enough to catch and slow a chipped golf ball, and sometimes they cut it too short, and again, it annoyed him, and now he had that same feeling as the rivulets of rainwater snaked down his back, following the cut of his metallic spine into the crack of his ass, and that’s when he spat forth these words:

“I have some great friends that are NASCAR team owners.”

And the voice in the headphones, enraged, ordered Mitt the Romney to STOP TALKING!  STOP TALKING!  YOU ARE RUINING YOUR PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN!  YOU ARE OUT OF TOUCH WITH THE COMMON MAN!  SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!  But at that point the water hit the exposed bionic circuit on his inner right thigh and his brain farted and he kept talking about how he likes the asphalt oval and how the cars go ‘round and ‘round and how is it they never get dizzy, anyway? and what’s with all the stickers on these cars and are they made in America and how much would it cost to buy a few for his kids and also to have one at his vacation home in California?  Don’t worry, we have the room on our driveway, I can always ask “the help” to park and clean them.

On that day the voice in the headphones could do nothing for its candidate.  Only be angry at him, and mourn, and be treated for depression under Romneycare.

(Photo: Reuters via The Atlantic)