In lieu of something nice, here's this

If you were a type of canned meat you would be vienna sausages and all the little boys would laugh at you and say vagina sausages even though your shape belies that notion.  Puggy pps.  I would be regular canned sausages, spicy and delicious.  No, wait.  That's wrong.  I would be wild albacore tuna soaking in a fine olive oil -- a tuna that was in the fresh of his years when caught by a struggling fisherman, fresh of years and wonderful to the taste.

Here's a letter I've been meaning to write but didn't know if I should until Jesus sent the Holy Ghost to tell me I should.  That was last week, sometime, and I'm sorry I didn't take care of it right away but I been real busy.

Dear parents whom raised Democrats,

I'll bet you'll be real sad when you're up in heaven looking down on your kids in hell after you're all dead and you've gone to heaven and they've gone to where they belong.  Unless you're a Democrat as well--then you can all just share a room down there--the Bill Clinton Dorms, maybe.  Wouldn't that make you so happy to be in the famous Bill Clinton Dorms.

You were too soft on them, you know.

Too many late nights and video game parties.  Too much pop.  Too many partial birth abortions and not enough of the firm hand and the Good Book.

I mean, technically you failed, but I guess hindsight can be a real bitch, huh.