Grand Old Party Animals
Let’s face it: Outside of rodeos, high-end brothels, and airport bathrooms, conservatives are notoriously inept partiers. For one, they tend to dance like malnourished chimpanzees (assuming they’ve had more than three Coors Light and there’s no television set nearby to distract them) and are more likely to be seen banning fun than having it.
As Ted Haggard will tell you, when right-wingers really want to get down, it’s time to get bipartisan. Which is to say it’s time to place a begrudging call to the wild-eyed liberal they roomed with freshman year of college, the one dude with “connections,” wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Or, in Haggard’s case, a gay prostitute who also peddles crystal meth (What’s known in the business as a “triple threat.”)
So it should be no surprise that the first—first!—explicit, unequivocal Republican call-for-unity in seven years comes in the form of “the official line of RNC clothing,” more specifically a t-shirt depicting a harmonious donkey and elephant joining together to hold a sign reading, “Let’s Party!”
I think I speak for every Twin Cities non-Republican when I say: “Fuck off.”
Sure, whenever it’s politically expedient, conservatives will whip Middle America into a pants-shitting fear-frenzy about those dastardly immoral liberals, what with their Mary Juana, naughty language, and race music. But when it comes time for them to cavort, their tone transforms into calculated “can’t-we-all-just-get-a-bong?” pish posh.
We reject your clumsy call for unity! We scoff at your contrived cooperative façade! We heathens are hereby on strike! (And, no, we’re not going to keep the bars open an extra two hours just so you can work up the liquid courage to call an escort service. You can’t have your Puritanical superstitions and drink them, too.)
Now leave us alone. If you really need us, we’ll be over here hitting on your daughter.
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