Poor Rick Santorum | A Lament

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Poor Rick. It looks like the brunt of the election campaign is really starting to get to Mr. Santorum, with the GOP candidate slipping up more than usual as of late. Whining to whoever will listen, chewing out a New York Times Reporter, claiming that Romney isn’t a real Republican, and maybe or maybe not calling President Obama the ‘n’ word are really starting to stain this man’s reputation. And who’s to blame for this? Romney and the media, according to Santorum, who you could say are Santoruming all over his name right now. That’s right, it’s a verb now.

There are plenty of things for him to complain about. For one, his last name is now synonymous with the rather grotesque result of a specific sexual act thanks to Dan Savage, and I bet that really stirs his fundamentalist Christian stew.

Recently griping about Romney has taken up plenty of Rick’s, incessantly whining, “Oh, Mitt has more money than me,” or, “Meeeeh, Mitt’s ads are making me look stupid,” and, “Why is Mitt’s hair so much thicker than mine?” Romney is disgustingly rich and undoubtedly has the easiest time financing the campaign out of all the candidates, with most of the revenue coming from the pockets of his own money-lined pants. It’s a stark comparison to Santorum’s financial capabilities as he tries to appeal to the wholesome working-class of America, but I think the whole anal-sex thing is really hurting him in that department.

I know, Rick, I know it’s hard to only make $1 million a year compared to Romney’s $21 million with his lower tax rate. That’s really hard. And I feel for you buddy. I mean, Mitt’s got the lower taxes because most of his money came from investments, while you were strapped with the higher tax rate because your money was earned in the form of wages, working hard to make sure that the gays couldn’t marry and taking away a woman’s right to choose. Lord almighty, it’s so unfair. You are so much like the average American that makes less than $40,000 annually that it is shameful—nay—blasphemous that the electorate is being fooled into supporting Mitt thanks to his flashy adds and ironed slacks. To shame with them.

And the media won’t even give him the time of day when he does win big, such as after the Louisiana primary. Mitt Romney’s wife stole Rick’s thunder by being interviewed by CNN, forcing him to beg, “if I’m the winner by that big a margin, why am I not on TV?” I ask myself the same question every time I beat a child in an arm wrestling match, but people only seem to focus on the negative. Maybe it’s because you’re not going to actually win the candidacy, or that you’ve got a touch of the crazies, but how dare the media shun you prematurely, or aborting you, some might say. That’s just inhumane.

It is so frustrating that you can’t pay for a teleprompter, or a speechwriter, because Lord knows you need one. Remember that time you said you didn’t want to help black people? Or that Palestinians are not a people? I felt so bad for you because clearly you’re too stupid to realize that those were terrible things to say. You’re just creating a minefield for your competitors to throw back at you whenever you open your mouth; you’re fueling your own demise, Rick! It’s just not fair. Maybe Romney would have lent you some funds if you hadn’t called him the worst Republican to run against Obama. See? A speechwriter or perhaps a therapist could have stopped you from blurting out that doozey. And don’t even get me started on swearing at the New York Times reporter! Damn that elitist whore Romney! Why can’t he say embarrassing things on air to make for a level playing field?

Rick—if I may call you that, because I feel so close to you—it’s not your fault. It ain’t easy being you. As Jack Donaghy once said, “I’ll tell you who has it the hardest: white men. We make the unpopular, difficult decisions. We land on the moon and Normandy Beach and they resent us.” If I were Rick, I would complain too. It’s not his fault that he’s going to lose this campaign, it’s his wallet’s fault.

And most of all it’s Mitt Romney’s fault, for hogging all the votes and the speechwriters, and the hair formula, and the monkey butlers who shine your shoes before big events. I’m hear for you, Rick, and I’ll be your shoulder to cry on when you inevitably exit the campaign in the most ungraceful and calamitous style. Just expect me to share all the juicy details.



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