| A
great big smelly stink is being made by Democrats after the recent
announcement by one-time Saturday Night Live host Ralph
Nader that he will be once again be seeking the office of President
of the United States.
“P.U., Ralph! You’re a skunk in the animal kingdom that
is the American political landscape,” many shouted at their
TVs.
“Hey, Ralph, Kevin-Spacey-Is-Keyser-Soze called. He says you’re
the real spoiler,” others bellowed in the direction of their
newspapers.
“Ralph, why don’t you do us all a favor and stop being
such a big butt-hole and go back to Buttholeville or whatever butt-hole
friendly locale it is that you hail from,” still others hollered
as they violently shook their town crier.
But, perhaps the hostility toward Rev. Nader ought to be rethought
a bit. After all, has anyone considered what might happen if Dr.
Nader doesn’t run for President? Yes, he’ll certainly
spend at least a couple of weeks cliff-diving with his platonic
life-partner, Nelly Furtado, but that will get old after a while.
Once bored of Nelly and the cliffs, Sgt. Nader will no doubt return
to his first love: consumer advocating. Already having conquered
the auto-industry with his now-classic book Unsafe at Any Speed,
Ralph will aim his figurative guns first at the snack-food cartels.
His book Untasty at Any Bite will expose dozens of counts
of gross negligence, leading the government to call for potato chips
to be equipped with hydrogen-powered crunch inhibitors and cupcakes
to come standard with three-point seatbelts. Eventually, the average
price of a snack will skyrocket from $1.49 to $1700.49.
But the effect on munchies and sweets is nothing compared to what
will become of the pants industry after the release of Msgr. Nader’s
next book, Unzipped at Any Inseam. While pants-related
deaths will decrease by nearly 40%, the black-market will flourish
with modified unregulated trousers, astronomically increasing the
wealth and power of the violent and ruthless garment Mafia.
So, you can pooh-pooh Ralph’s candidacy all you want and pee-pee
his ego ‘til the cows come home, but I say: Run, Ralph, run.
Run like the wind, you darling old so-and-so.A2P
|
|
