The Damocrat Party

Posted: 05/26/2014 in Screwed

You think you’re soooo smart.  Calling your opponents “the Democrat Party” instead of  “the Democratic Party” because you know it gets their dander up.  It’s the sort of thing bullies do in grade school.  You think it’s clever when it’s really just one more way for you to show contempt for the process of government that you hate.  That’s not clever, that’s just showing the limits of your imagination.  If you wanted to be clever you’d be calling them Demon-crats.  That way you’d still get the whole dander thing, but you’d also remind voters that you think people who vote against you are in league with Satan.

Of course, in reality, you have no reason to be upset with your opponents, since they’re opponents in name only.  The Dems will always cross party lines to pass your bills in the hope that someday you might return the favor.  The Dems will always sit down at the conference table and trade away their half of the pie, even if they don’t need your vote for anything.  The Dems are more like family members than opponents, since public polls show they’re more in sync with you than with their constituents.

And then, to top it off, you can say any crazy thing, call them any name in the book, lie about everything they do and everything you don’t, and they won’t fight  back. They say they don’t want to lower themselves to your level, but then they hold their collective noses in the air like you’d stepped in something and then wiped it on the rug and they know they’re the ones that will have to clean it up.  It’s like they’re all Quakers, for cryin’ out loud!

Each time you get in power, you screw things up so bad, you bury yourselves so deep, that to the average voter, the GOP is dead.  And who comes along and saves your butt by doing even worse?  The Dems, that’s who.  Now, don’t you feel bad about abusing them?  Walking over the Dems is so easy that it’s not like shooting fish in a barrel, it’s like shooting a gun, period.  You pull the trigger and your job is done.  Let them figure out where the bullet lands.  Let the other guys call 9-1-1.  Because they will, and then sit down at the table with you and offer to share the blame.  Frankly, I don’t know why you don’t like them.  They’re the best friends you have.

Demon-crats: can’t live with ’em, can’t pass laws without ’em.


Be seeing you.


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