Sandra Neish
Jack Manhattan
Harvey Wallbanger
Dear President Obama:
We here at The Drunk Report were enthusiastic when John McCain did not win the presidency, which is not to say we were your strongest supporters. We were just really, really glad Sarah Palin was not one heart attack away from the presidency. Also, McCain started pandering to the Christianists (who are one home-made, strap-on bomb away from Islamists), and we aren’t fans.
Then, we thought we’d see what you could do. We realized you weren’t George W. “Dubya” Bush and were more thankful than you could possibly imagine. So, we waited. And we waited. And we waited. And WAITED. We’re still waiting for you to do something besides (in the vernacular known only to Dubya and the state of Texas) “talk real purty like.”
Because that’s all you’ve been doing. Granted, it’s a vast improvement over our last president who had the English pronunciation skills of an inebriated Elmer Fudd. But it’s not enough. At least he got shit done. Of course, it wasn’t shit that needed doing, but he managed to ram it down everyone’s collective throat and up everyone’s collective ass.
You talk a great game about gay rights. Nada.
Now, you’re talking a great game about drug control policy. In fact, this letter was inspired by an article I just read over on Huffington Post. A great article that leaned your way. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get past the words “encourages,” “strategy,” “called on Congress to end,” “rhetoric,” and “request.”
None of those words equals action or authority. None of those words mean anything is getting done. I feel like those are the only words I hear out of the Obama administration anymore. I hear “we would like Congress to do something or other people in the private sector to do something, but we just can’t. We’d like to, but we can’t.”
So, we’d like to offer you some advice, Mr. President: grow some balls or borrow Hillary’s, because we all know, she would’ve gotten shit done by now.
Sincerely,
The Drunk Report.
