Friday, March 1, 2013
Barack Obama and John Boehner Just Shot A Kitten
All I know is I come home to find the President and the Speaker of the House standing around in my kitchen with dazed looks. Plus, there's a dead kitten on the floor and a handgun on the table.
"You didn't lock the front door, so we figured we'd just come in," Boehner says helpfully. But that obviously doesn't exactly answer my real question:
"Guys... Um, who exactly shot the kitten?"
And as you can guess, what follows is a long story. They're arguing and gesturing wildly at each other. It gets weird and complicated. And both of them repeatedly say that ending a kitten's life with a powerful firearm was the absolute last thing they wanted to do. They both agree it was egregiously stupid and cruel.
In fact it was so stupid and cruel that it was the perfect motivator, really - because who the hell just breaks into someone's home and puts a bullet into a cute, furry creature, and then waits for the owner to come back? Who does that? Wouldn't it be the thing we both agreed we'd never ever do, and therefore the thing that would force us to hammer out a deal? You get the idea.
Now, I voted for Obama. And we all remember that the Tea Partiers actually ran on a kitten-killing platform back in 2010. You had Republicans in Congress holding up giant posters of that 5 week-old Persian and telling everybody we needed to - and I'm directly quoting Rand Paul, here - "put that fluffy bastard down for America."
And Michele Bachmann really made a big deal about the fact that it was a Persian. She insinuated that Whiskers was not quite loyal.
I guess I'm saying that I ultimately believe the President was less at fault than the GOP. But that doesn't mean I don't blame him at all, right? We could recite the sordid details of the debt ceiling crisis, and the fiscal cliff, and all the times Republicans have just refused to raise taxes, even after they lost the last election, and it was clear Obama had a mandate. Yes, they gave in on taxes to some degree, but we have to argue about balance, and...
Look, I know the GOP is filled with knuckleheads. I know that. I've still got to be kind of shocked that I helped elect the most powerful man in the government, and he got involved in a deal to let my new parquet floor get a fresh coat of kitten. I think I'm allowed to be disappointed at the whole sorry mess. And especially their excuse:
"It's the only thing we could agree on."
Which is sad.
"Okay, gentlemen," I say, trying to put all this past me. "Can you two clean this up?"
And they will. They don't know which one of them, exactly - they haven't worked that out. But they have a plan. And in the next room I hear a little yip. They brought a puppy with them to make sure they get the job done.