I Write Letters

Dear Tea Partiers:

Seriously, I couldn't give less of a shit about your campaign to make Bristol Palin the winner of Dancing with the Stars. And I don't know a single person who gives the tiniest, infinitesimal, microscopic, vanishingly minuscule shit about it, either.

"Liberals' heads" are not "exploding" because Bristol Palin might take first prize in a nightmare dance competition on a garbage reality show.


As per usual, you are projecting. But if it makes you feel powerful, if spending your evenings typing fake email addresses into ABC's website fills your lungs with rarefied air and makes your head woozy with the drunkenness of your own magnitude in shaping important world events like the outcome of season 11 of Dancing with the Stars, then, by all means, have your fun.

We should all be so lucky to find something that makes our bodies tingle like we're composed of irradiated pixie dust and have the finest Boone's Farm vintage coursing through our veins, and if your magical moment is watching Bristol Palin get handed a glittering disco ball garbage trophy, then let no one take it from you, friends.

But, for the record, liberals don't find that infuriating.

Hilarious, maybe.


Shakesville is run as a safe space. First-time commenters: Please read Shakesville's Commenting Policy and Feminism 101 Section before commenting. We also do lots of in-thread moderation, so we ask that everyone read the entirety of any thread before commenting, to ensure compliance with any in-thread moderation. Thank you.

blog comments powered by Disqus