Sunday, October 02, 2005
Let's Make Fun Of America's Government Because We Darned Well Can!
You know, by the wisdom of the Founding Fathers, we're allowed to make fun of presidents, and candidates, like Clinton and Gore. I know a person who drew a picture involving Gore, bushes, and gigantic trimmers. I suppose that Gore would be dissapointed; however, apparently the majority of the rest of the USA wasn't. Anyway, I bet less than 1% of Utah was.
Of course, at the same time the Constatution was scripted, they spilled tea on it. The tax was no longer there, so they passed that problem up and just canceled the whole thing. They decided later to try again, but of course this time, the mosquitoes ate them all alive. There were in fact no surivors. Finally, they found new representatives, and got the Constatution online. Many question the possibility of this, as Gore invented the Internet (or so he claims).
Obviously the first amendment was there to allow us to do such things as to bash upon people's heads verbally. Sometimes, our arguments are so fierce that it becomes physical, somehow sending anger waves at the governments face.
Of course, Dave Barry and such severly take the government by the horns and twist those horns so badly that the government cannot see. I wish I had the capability, and am doing so as best I can, barly avoiding being gored by the horns of no humor upon the government bull. I wave my red flag of bad puns and horrible humor at the bloodshot eyes of the pro-democratic journalists and just dare them to send it flying towards me. They often do, and I at least wish I were doing the leap of retort over them, although it doesn't always work, thereby spilling the blood of pride across the dirt of the USA. If Dave Barry knew I were trying to imitate his awesome puns, he would, if he were dead, turn in his grave. The question is, what do they do when they aren't in the grave? Turn in their shoes?
I need some material to make fun of. The other day, my Dad saw a guy in a mobile crane stuck in a mud puddle on the median. I suppose he learned his lesson: Next time when he disobeys traffic laws, it will be in a Volkswagen Beetle. I strongly support his desicion, as most likely it won't be able to power itself out of that pit. It will still get stuck, and Dad might find something new to make fun of. This isn't funny. I suppose I'm really not very funny. Seriously though, I need practice, which is why I'm doing this. As one man said about his podcast, "I suffered for my music, and now it's your turn." In my case, replace "music" with "humor" or "sense of humor" or something like that. If you don't, I guess I'll just go stick my thumbs in my ears. If only they would fit. Aww c'mon, that wasn't even remotly funny. Perhaps I should become depressed. It seems somewhat fasionable, and it wouldn't be that hard to wear black and dark blue and brown and purple and all sorts of things. Or I could go against the flow and wear bright pink and people would make fun of me. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?
Of course, at the same time the Constatution was scripted, they spilled tea on it. The tax was no longer there, so they passed that problem up and just canceled the whole thing. They decided later to try again, but of course this time, the mosquitoes ate them all alive. There were in fact no surivors. Finally, they found new representatives, and got the Constatution online. Many question the possibility of this, as Gore invented the Internet (or so he claims).
Obviously the first amendment was there to allow us to do such things as to bash upon people's heads verbally. Sometimes, our arguments are so fierce that it becomes physical, somehow sending anger waves at the governments face.
Of course, Dave Barry and such severly take the government by the horns and twist those horns so badly that the government cannot see. I wish I had the capability, and am doing so as best I can, barly avoiding being gored by the horns of no humor upon the government bull. I wave my red flag of bad puns and horrible humor at the bloodshot eyes of the pro-democratic journalists and just dare them to send it flying towards me. They often do, and I at least wish I were doing the leap of retort over them, although it doesn't always work, thereby spilling the blood of pride across the dirt of the USA. If Dave Barry knew I were trying to imitate his awesome puns, he would, if he were dead, turn in his grave. The question is, what do they do when they aren't in the grave? Turn in their shoes?
I need some material to make fun of. The other day, my Dad saw a guy in a mobile crane stuck in a mud puddle on the median. I suppose he learned his lesson: Next time when he disobeys traffic laws, it will be in a Volkswagen Beetle. I strongly support his desicion, as most likely it won't be able to power itself out of that pit. It will still get stuck, and Dad might find something new to make fun of. This isn't funny. I suppose I'm really not very funny. Seriously though, I need practice, which is why I'm doing this. As one man said about his podcast, "I suffered for my music, and now it's your turn." In my case, replace "music" with "humor" or "sense of humor" or something like that. If you don't, I guess I'll just go stick my thumbs in my ears. If only they would fit. Aww c'mon, that wasn't even remotly funny. Perhaps I should become depressed. It seems somewhat fasionable, and it wouldn't be that hard to wear black and dark blue and brown and purple and all sorts of things. Or I could go against the flow and wear bright pink and people would make fun of me. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?
