Yo! Ron Wyden- remember me?

So, remember when I told you that you owed Oregon a lap dance 'cause you had turned into a blue lap dog??? Today I am giving you a shout out to remind you of our history and to make a confession.

Confession first: I voted for you! Once again for the man I swore I'd not vote for under any circumstance. I believe I said we were through. Kind of like me and my Monkey Muffin. Only I haven't cheated there. ORLY you say. "Did you not tell me you'd never vote for the blue dog again?What's up with that ?" You may wonder Mr. Wyden and dear reader. I know I still do.

See, like most of life, it's complicated. I had my nose pressed against the pavement, jackboot on my neck, facists surrounding me.

In our sane state of Oregon where we elect-

hot doctors 

instead of inexperienced tall guys   (thank you a million times over  to every progressive Oregon voter for turning out) whilst voting by mail and every vote is a real and counted vote, when faced with the ballot, I caved.

Now breathe. Then watch this:

Thanks Momocrats!

So,  I am calling out to you Mr. W and all those other strange people in Washington. The unemployed need you to stop the circle jerk and do something meaningful. Extending benefits for the long-term unemployed isn't an esoteric concept. Anyone can grasp that it is almost impossible to survive in this place without a dollar or two. And for the love of dog, it's Christmas!

We need to believe there is some function the American government still serves on behalf of it's citizens. Please demonstrate that real people hold some value, that you may in fact be wholly owned corporate subsidiaries, but that you still have human parts-including beating hearts and minds capable of empathy. Stand up to your minders or be subversive-whatever is required of you to do the right thing.

And, if one of you (yes YOU Mr. Wyden) goes home for a lovely Christmas break  without ensuring this extension or, worst case scenario, standing nude on the steps of Congress holding a press conference surrounded by the homeless, hungry, and desperate citizens of this land of milk and honey,  screaming out with righteous and telegenic indignation that REPUBLICANS DO NOT CARE HOW MUCH MISERY THEY CAUSE NOR HOW MANY LIVES THEY DESTROY, I can assure you that the next time I see your name on the ballot, I will not fill in the oval with a blue or black ink pen. Because, since we have always had such a frank and honest relationship, I feel O.K. telling you that Earl is starting to look pretty Senatorial despite the fact that he once tried to kill my daddy with a canoe on the Nehalem river.

Hey! Look at that tie! Remind you of anyone Mr. Wyden?

Just saying.


Our President wants to cuddle with these rat bastards Ron. I do not understand why. Where is the change in which I can believe? Time to buck up and remember the wise words of my obnoxious father - dance with (and, since you still owe us a lap dance, for) the ones what brung you.

You must not leave Washington without first staging a meltdown of epic proportion on live tv and not just cspan 'cause I think I am the only one still watching it. Make some noise! Put on your pasties! Strip down and shake your groove thing. Not so much because I want to see you naked, no offense, but  because it will in fact work at getting some sort of media coverage. You feel me?

What we have here is an empire in decline. Not necessarily a bad thing. We just have to adapt. If you want your serfs to keep feeding the machine, throw us a fucking bone.

I gotta go knit a safety net.

Do that thing you used to be able to do. Stand and deliver. I promise I'll love you long time.