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eclectic skeptic

John Boehner Needs Your Help

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By John Boehner, Speaker of the House of Representatives
90.jpg?6183Notice where Hunter's Gun is pointed.

Help me. Please, God, help me. I’ve lost control and I need help.

 

The far right members of my party are insane. I don’t know what they’re thinking, and I don’t want to know because it would be too horrifying. I’ve tried to explain it to them over and over and they don’t listen to me. They don’t listen to anybody. I say to them, nobody wants a government shutdown, Obamacare is the law of the land, the president was reelected and elections have consequences, and we are only in charge of one branch of government.

 

I say all of that and they just look at me with these cold, dead eyes. Christ, It’s chilling.

 

Look, these people scare me. They scare all of us. Have you heard them talk? They’re animals, these people. There are only 30 or 40 of them and we outnumber them, but they have so much power, you see? They could end me like that. And they wouldn’t feel a thing because these people do not feel. They are out for blood: my blood, the president’s blood, the blood of any American who doesn’t agree with them.

 

I hate them. I hate all of them. And yet I also fear them.

 

I want to admit something: I’ve cried in my office every day for the last month. During this shutdown I’ve sat there, panicked and alone, scared to death about the next thing they’ll make me do. When they knock on my door, my heart stops. What are they going to make me say next? How are they going to force me to embarrass myself next? Did you know I was once known as a relatively moderate, shrewd politician? That was before 2010. Before the horror began.

 

They haunt my dreams at night. I have this one nightmare where I’m about to ask for a vote on a clean continuing resolution and then one of them—I think it’s Steve King from Iowa—looks at me with this eerie smile and says, “No, John. No you won’t.” And then the rest of them are suddenly standing behind him and they all chant in a chilling monotone, “No, John. No you won’t.” And then I wake up screaming, “No, John!!! No you won’t!!!” and I’m crying, and my wife is crying, and I’ve sweat through my sheets.

 

Help me. Help me make this end. Don’t reelect these people. Reelect good, normal people and I promise I’ll be a good speaker from now on. I won’t lie down for the president by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ll work with him if it makes sense and I’ll fight him when it makes sense. That’s how it should be. That’s how it will be if you help me destroy this menace.

 

I know I helped create this monster, and I apologize. I am so, so sorry. I thought I could control it, but I was wrong. I just need your help to defeat it. Will somebody please help me? Please? Please? Anyone?

HELP ME!!!!!!!!!!!

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Nah.. I need to see some tears from boehner before I will lift a finger... I know he has it in him and I won't settle for anything less

 

Maybe someone should hide his bottle of sunless tan

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Boner illustrates an object lesson on what happens when an basically decent man decides to lie down with dogs.

 

Like John McCain, they get up with fleas.

 

cc

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