Dear Governor Good Hair:

You have a lot of balls, dude. No, really. You and your cohorts have been busy the last few years shafting teachers and students, attempting to replace solid academics with crazy rewrites of American history and pseudoscience to indoctrinate kids with your ass-backwards worldview, and…

Yes! Let's blame vaginas for being so easy to impregnate, because we all know it's the woman's fault when she gets pregnant.

I'd like to focus on him having shit for brains, but he doesn't have control over that either, does he?

I had such a weird experience yesterday. This horrible story has been giving me nightmares. Reading about it I couldn't get it out of my head, it haunted me.

Shake weight. Teaches you how, and gives you muscles at the same time. Manly.

Oh...

I believe that the socially acceptable reaction is to smirk and giggle uncontrollably.

What the...

I'm sure that, in the seconds after you and mom hang up, the man in the suit on the invisible line shakes his head and whispers, "I promise you, noodle, it will get better."

I'm just glad that SOMEONE was listening during all of those phone conversations with my mother.

That's called "invented outrage".

Run for your life! It's a Phallosaurus!

Clean.

I'm going to blatantly copy/paste something I saw on my Facebook feed today, but it's very accurate, especially the last part about how the only hands you see helping and saving people are human hands.

"It’s an unpopular topic in many circles, but in the aftermath of the devastating tornado that ravaged Moore, Oklahoma…

I have no problem with this. So long as he follows up by asking parents of dead children if they blame the lord. Fair and balanced, bitches.

Doesn't God work in mysterious ways, everyone? In the face of such a tragedy, he's always there to remind us of the one fact that can hold us together, through thick and thin: that Wolf Blitzer is an oblivious fucking asshole.

*bows* Your Foofyness.

It should probably come as little surprise that I love your name.