Health Care Summit
‘Puter’s got a few thoughts on the Festivus-esque “airing of the grievances” that occurred yesterday in Washington.
First, ‘Puter thought, and still thinks, that the party that spoke least was going to “win” the summit. Republicans spoke significantly less than Democrats. Ergo, as Volgi notes below, advantage Republicans. Speaking at length about the turd-in-the-punchbowl that is the Democrats’ health care plan doesn’t make the punch taste any better.
Second, ‘Puter’s representative Louise Slaughter (D-NY) is an absolute embarrassment, and proved it in spades yesterday. A high level health care summit is apparently a great place to tell an anecdote about a toothless constituent who couldn’t get health care, so she had to wear her dead sister’s dentures. The story made ‘Puter think. If health care is so bad that members of Congress can’t get treated for obvious dementia or brain damage of the sort Rep. Slaughter plainly suffers, maybe health care does need reforming.
As to both points the first and the second, ‘Puter is reminded of the wisdom of another President, Mr. Abraham Lincoln who said “It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt.”
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.