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| A year ago, this photo was posted on Facebook with the caption "The first ever Weiner Caption Contest. I can't offer a prize but if you write the best caption, I'll call you and tell you and I'll announce it here." |
Hey there, Democrats. It’s your pal, Ben. I want you to know I feel just awful about the way Representative Anthony Weiner not only lied about his misadventures on Twitter, but used your devotion against you. Weiner turned out every Democratic double-talking trick from Ted Kennedy to Bill Clinton in an effort to hide his dalliances with dozens of women who he’s fairly certain were not still in junior high school. And most of you bought it. When Weiner claimed he was the real victim, you demanded justice. When Weiner told you he was hacked, you changed your passwords. When Weiner said it was a conservative conspiracy, you put on your tinfoil hats.
Let me use an old-neighborhood euphemism Weiner would recognize: Not for nothin’ — you got played.
But I’m not here to gloat. I have liberal friends who are beside themselves over Weiner’s amateur photography project. Liberals are fond of suggesting that conservatives are cruel. So I’m going to do something Weiner does only if you are female, hot and at least 18 (although he’s evidently flexible on proof of that last one): invite you to join us in the conservative ranks.
Think about it. This whole liberal thing isn’t working out all that well for you. President Barack Obama is as capable of dispensing his Presidential duties as I am of starting in place of Eli Manning next season. I’m fairly certain there’s a short in Vice President Joe Biden’s wiring. And now, your House of Representatives rising star has done a swan dive into the creepy end of the Internet.
Your party’s ideas are sillier than a little-watched cable network offering Lawrence O’Donnell an hour-long program. Obamacare seemed great, didn’t it? Resurrect Hillarycare and ram it down the nation’s throat. Too bad that pesky Constitution keeps getting in the way. Are you sure these are the guys with whom you want to share a political foxhole?
Join the conservative movement. Imagine the joy of not having to be so damned indignant all the time. You never have to watch MSNBC and pretend you didn’t notice Ed Schultz has a severe personality disorder. You never have to listen to NPR and its parade of people who obviously talk with their eyes closed. No more pretending you’re not appalled when Obama tells you to cut back while his wife cavorts around some five-star resort in a dress that cost five figures.
If you’re a conservative, you can tell elected representatives who annoy you to “get stuffed.” When our guys disappoint us, we dump them faster than Larry Craig can tap his foot. We only begrudgingly showed up for Senator John McCain, and even then only because we liked Sarah Palin — and the alternative was worse than being forced to watch four years of Chris Matthews sneering like a crack-addled movie villain.
And you will be well protected. As long as you’re not a felon or Dailykos.com-stupid, we will encourage you to get a firearm. Let me amend that. I’ve seen how some of you throw a football. We will handle the weapons. Most of us own them, and we can shoot straight. Plus, most of the military is on our side — and soldiers really can shoot straight.
And conservative food is better. You’ve sworn off animal flesh because you heard California Governor Jerry “Moonbeam” Brown likes vegetarians. I’m sure that vegan diet is really, really healthy, but have you smelled Moonbeam? Step into Smith and Wollensky the next time you get a chance and tell me you’re sticking with your… er… what is that, a dirt sandwich?
But wait, there’s more! Nothing against home brewers, but imagine a pint of something that doesn’t involve ¼ inch of beer-flavored mud at the bottom of the glass. And making that “wine” must be fun. I have two fingers of single malt that says you would prefer a wingback chair, some old amber liquor over ice and an Ashton 8-9-8. That’s right: We get to smoke, too. And our smoke doesn’t always involve the fear of Drug Enforcement Administration assault teams. And a growing number of us think the DEA should concern itself with substances that involve worse outcomes than buying out the local Papa John’s.
No more kowtowing to tin-pot dictators and Islamofascist psychopaths. No more shovel-ready projects. No more racist Attorneys General. No more class warfare as a substitute for meaningful tax policy. No more dues to support union thugs. No more protecting foreign-oil godfathers. No more bald-faced hypocrisy.
At the very least, our women are all older than 18.
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