Hello patriots. I just wanted to let everyone know that I’ll be ‘modifying’ some things at the White House, just in time before those Democrats take over. You may have heard that the first Clinton administration removed all the ‘W’s on every keyboard when George and I took over eight years ago, so this is payback time. True, a man with a shotgun does not generally rely on karma, but I’ve been feeling creative lately.

First, I’m loosening every fucking screw in every chair and desk I can find. Those liberal hippie yoga-ergonomic maniacs won’t know what hit ‘em when they fall flat on the floor. I can just imagine Hillary’s flappy ass on the Oval Office rug — and while such a thought makes me wince, it will be worth it.

Also, I’ve contacted the National Rifle Association, and they’ve graciously (and very excitedly) agreed to continue sending their NRA store catalogs to the White House (incidentally, you will never feel fully-clothed until you order a boar-hide handgun vest). I’ve also renewed my (and in the near future, their) subscriptions to (partial list): National Review, The Weekly Standard, The American Conservative, The New American, The Daily Republican, Common Conservative, American Renaissance, and some others I can’t remember.

We just got a large shipment of afro wigs. In the unlikely event that Obamamaba (Christ, those Kenyans sure know how to make up crazy names!) wins, every single statue around here is getting an afro. Time for fried chicken and watermelon. Oh wait, that’s for African-Americans. I think Africans just eat bugs and dirt. There’s no way that guy is my cousin.

As for Hillary, fuck, fuck, and fuck. I know my daughter is a (and I use this word very endearingly) dyke, but lord almighty, Hillary makes her look like Anne Heche. That’s why we’re replacing the front doors with a giant walk-thru vagina. And guess where the door-bell will be? That’s right: G-spot, baby.