Home from the Teabag Rebellion

(noon. – promoted by ek hornbeck)




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All right! High fives all around! Wow! What a rush. Every Tax Day should be Revolution Day. I can’t wait till the next one. Remember what Jefferson said, “the Tree of Liberty shall be watered with the blood of tea-baggers every April 15th.”

Well we certainly made a statement didn’t we? We’re mad as hell and we’re not going to take it anymore. I feel like going to an alehouse and signing a petition and pinching a wench. Yeah, resistance is good and the timing is perfect right after March Madness and before the NBA Finals. As Robert Duvall said, “I love the smell of Revolution in the morning!”

So, anyway, what’s for lunch?




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Because let me tell you rebellion works up a healthy appetite. I can’t imagine what those other guys went through – the original Tea Partiers – they had to throw like a two ton bag of tea over the side of a ship and all we had to do is throw a few tea-bags into a trash can. And some liberal tea-baggers – is that called an oxymoron or a paradox? – (and what were they doing there, anyway) suggested we donate the tea to some food bank or something but it didn’t take long for some real patriots to come along and say the tea was like Halloween candy, probably laced with ecstasy, and couldn’t be trusted and the best thing to do is throw it away. Saner heads prevailed. Some of us wanted to burn the teabags but we didn’t have a permit for that. The firemen have to be there so civil disobedience doesn’t burn a hole in the carpet.

Anyway, me and some of my fellow militia members, okay, just kidding, we don’t belong to a militia, we just want to when the time comes for the real revolution, you know, we’re hoping between the World Series and the NFL Playoffs in 2012.

But, anyway, I keep getting distracted; I feel like Dennis Hopper hopped up on speed or something like in that movie, it doesn’t matter which one where he goes crazy and kills a billion people with a rocket launcher or something or maybe that was Sylvester Stallone, but he was never on speed I don’t think but had a gun which shoots like a thousand rounds a second and maybe it was him who killed those billion people.

WOW!!! What a rush. I feel like Paul Revere and the Raiders during the 60s when they had one really good song and were getting laid like there was no tomorrow even though they were all ugly except for that one guy who was like from a another planet he was so handsome and the girls just swooned all over him.  

I hope I get laid tonight. What kind of patriot would the Mrs. be if she didn’t get into the spirit of 1776. Rockets bursting in air. Just because I didn’t put my life on the line doesn’t mean there couldn’t have been a terrorist attack in the ballroom of the Best Western. Surely there was more than a 1% chance I could have been killed by Marxist, Communist Radicals bent upon destroying our sovereignty, stealing our freedom and killing God. If it’s good enough for Cheney it’s good enough for me. I am a daredevil freedom fighter and when the Revolution is over I want some loving. And then some comfort food so I can come down off the high of facing death in the heat of battle against godless heathens and lesbian warriors. And I don’t mean anything against Xena, it’s just that the woman’s place is in the home under her man like it says in the Bible and not out under the stars with another woman and a couple of horses.

We did have one serious discussion today though. Me and my fellow patriot tea-baggers. It was after the ceremony. You know after the revolution ceremony where we dumped our tea into the trash. After the head guy said something about taking our country back from bankers and communists who were destroying our nation, we dumped the tea, had some hotdogs, chips and Pepsi, got our parking tickets validated and headed home.

And some of the other patriots and I went to find the parking garage elevator out of order and so we had to go up three flights of stairs and by the time we got to the third floor, we were heaving and wheezing and coughing phlegm from our chests and as we stopped to rest we looked at each other.

We were kind of fat and out of shape. One guy said America is now more obese than fat. Another guy said, “Imagine throwing a revolution and not having enough hotdogs at the after-party.” And we laughed because he was right. One hotdog is not enough after putting our lives on the line to make a statement and stand up and be counted and risk surveillance by the FBI or Homeland Security or the local police. Out of hundreds of millions of fellow citizens I was one of thousands brave enough and courageous enough to go public and say, “Here! Take this tea-bag and shove it!”

So anyway, if anything good came out of this it’s that once I figure out a way to save my house, and my job and keep my wife from leaving and the kids from calling me a twit, I am going to go out and sign up at the local gym. I swear. This time I mean it. It’s a luxury but it’s got to be done. I’m going to shed a few pounds. Get in shape. Run laps. Lift weights. Cut down on fast-food and booze. Read the Bible more. And the Constitution. And, when no one is looking, one guy told me about old issues of Playboy on line for FREE!

That’s what America is about. That’s what we’re protecting. That’s what we’re defending.

FREEDOM!

Amen.

 

4 comments

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    • gottlieb on April 15, 2009 at 4:03 pm
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  1. You have a sharp and nasty wit on you, my friend.  

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