Big Mike: A One-Handed Vote For Sarah Palin

You know, maybe the Right is, well, right in its condemnation of the liberal race. Take us — Benny Jay, Milo and me. You won’t find three bigger liberals. Not a one of us owns a gun and each of us looks upon his spouse as an equal (although that’s a horrible thing to say about Milo’s wife.)

I bring this up because, as Benny Jay revealed yesterday, this fruit of our labors for the last year and a half, this Third City racket, is worth a grand total of $18. So says one of Benny’s personal gang of Svengalis who guide him through the trecherous waters of computers and the Internet.

We’ve clacked our fingertips to the bone putting out a new post every single day since the fall of 2008. Our keyboards are as worn down as the marble steps in Union Station. We’ve stretched so far to find grist for this literary mill that, once, Benny wrote a post about watching his dog chase a fly. (Come to think of it, that might have been the highlight of the poor sap’s summer.)

Union Station’s Worn Out Marble Steps

Anyway, had we been true patriots, good right wing conservatives, and proud Americans rather than the nit-picky, untrue-to-our-color liberals we are, this thing would be worth millions. See, we’re soft. We don’t want to hurt anybody. We want to understand others. We ‘re not out to cut the other guy’s throat. Hell, we even have pals who are — dare I say it? — brown.

You can’t run a successful business thinking like that. How do I know this? Well, I’ve been following the Tea Party Nation bunch, currently holding their first convention down in Nashville.

These Tea Partiers must be successful businessmen. The cost to get into their bash this weekend was $549 a ticket plus a $9.95 registration fee. We liberals, if we have a spare $558.95 in our tattered pockets, would likely spend it on fixing the car, the roof, or our aching backs. That is when we’re not giving it all away to the National Forced Abortion League. I confess, I wrote a check for $10 to Americans for Pedophiles last Wednesday. Milo called and told me, gleefully, he’d just joined a group called Rape the Daughters of Churchgoers. He said it cost him twenty five bucks but he’ll have to pay extra to attend the July weinie roast.

Who has an extra half a thou laying around these days? I’ll tell you who — big successful businessmen, that’s who. When Sarah Palin climbed the stage last night to give the keynote address, she wowed the crowd (that is, all those who hadn’t dashed out of the auditorium to masturbate over her in the men’s washroom — they’re patriots, too!) She said President Obama (a brown man) allowed the underwear bomber (another brown man, of course) to get on that flight from Amsterdam to Detroit Christmas day.

Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab Wouldn’t Have Gotten

Into the Gaylord Opryland This Weekend.

Sure enough, I checked the security guard schedule at Airport Schiphol for December 25th and there it was, in black and white — natch — the would-be terrorist got on his plane during Obama’s shift.

Palin’s a fine businesswoman. She’s parlayed her natural anti-intellectualism, the shakiest of commands of the English language, blithe ignorance of foreign affairs and the cutest little wink into a multi-million-dollar career as an author and public speaker.

Tom Tancredo, whose web site extols his efforts “to protect our borders, the language of our country’s founders and to save our shared American culture,” spoke the night before Palin. He told it like it is. The people who voted for Obama, he thundered, don’t even know how to spell the word vote. Right again! Benny, Milo and I voted for the world’s most dangerous human being in the 2008 election. Just to see how spot-on Tancredo’s assessment of our spelling capabilities is, I went back through all our 450-plus posts and found no fewer than 63 spelling errors.

What do you expect from liberals? And Tancredo would know, he was once a teacher. Hah! Talk about liberal careers. He wisely ditched that gig and became a Congressman. His net worth, as reported during the 2008 presidential campaign, was between $530,000 and $1.1 million. He amassed that on a salary that has averaged a little over $150,000 a year since he went to Washington in 1998. He’s either a penny-pincher or a cracker-jack businessman — probably both. That’s why he spoke Friday night at the Tea Party Nation love fest.

Whoever climbed to the dais to speak at the convention this weekend was greeted by a waving sea of American flags. I’ll bet the view to the eye of each speaker was nothing but a kaleidoscope of red, white and blue. Not a hint of brown in sight. Ugh! — such a dirty color.

Red, White & Blue — Not A Brown Person Or A Jew!

Palin said that Barack Husein Obama goes around the world “apologizing for America.” That’s what liberals do. That’s the way we think here at The Third City. That’s why our silly little website is worth eighteen lousy dollars.

Palin also resorted to the right’s least thought-provoking talking point — lower taxes. What else? You’d hate to confuse anybody by actually talking about issues. The Middle East? The environment? Terrorism? Economic stimulus? Phew, that’s all confusing stuff. When you want good, successful businessmen to vote for you, it doesn’t matter what all else you have to say as long as you say you’re against taxes. As for us, The Third City guys, we figure paying our taxes gets us things like fire departments, consumer protection, food and drug standards, roads to drive on, public libraries, cops to call when we get conked over the head, air traffic controllers, Social Security, polling places, and countless other perks. Someone’s gotta pay for all those things.

Of course, that’s the way liberals think, the dopes. And, we’re the biggest of the dopey liberals.

Had we taken pride in a nation that gobbles up more than 40 percent of the world’s natural resources, that has steadfastly refused to believe those charlatans who call themselves scientists when they claim humans (read: Americans) are adversely affecting the planet’s climate, that had to be dragged kicking and screaming into a voting rights act, that clung to Jim Crow like a baby to its mother’s tit, that sank trillions into a phony housing bubble, that trusted every guy in a pin-striped suit who told us how to invest our money, that pooh-poohs the notions of Charles Darwin, and that thinks ghosts walk among us and angels protect us, we’d be rolling in dough right now.

We’d be in Nashville this weekend, waiting at the head of the line to get to the men’s room so we could masturbate furiously over Sarah Palin.

Look At Those Issues!

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