Ma’am, trying to have a conversation with you would be like trying to argue with a dining room table. I have no interest in doing it. —Representative Barney Frank from Massachusetts.
Dear Barney Frank,
My neighbor told me I obviously need a civics lesson when I told him Nazis are un-American and full of shit. “The only normal Americans are US citizens,” he said. “Guys who are here legally. Don’t abuse alcohol, drugs or people. Are Christian. Are heterosexual. No fags. Male or female (nothing else).”
“What about shemales,” I asked. “A combo of sorts.” He was totally perplexed and gave me the finger. “Fat ass.”
“Your indiscriminate tolerance demonstrates your deep ignorance of real life,” he said. “Fucking fag.”
No one swooped down to haul him away, not even aliens, or men in black masks or mascara, not even Obama in his pin stripe suit and fancy brown loafers. No one skinned the swastika tattooed on his right arm or the heart tattooed on his chest, or confiscated his balls or ak 47. God didn’t even strike him down for using the F word in front of children, not the word fucking of course, but fag.
Mr. Frank, I think your last name defines your character and I’m not referring to hot dogs. For example, I heard what you said yesterday to that wailing woman, that sheepish banshee who spoke to dining room tables like mom does after too many men or cocktails. Mom is kind of pissed you didn’t take further action against that cute bat, like sucker punching or karate chopping down that picture of Obama defaced as Hitler she held like a white flag in her hand.
Continue reading “In Defense of Healthcare: An Open Letter to Barney Frank”