Male Voiceover: [over picture of the Capitol Building next to the text "2010"] This year, a lot of folks think this is our best shot at changing Congress. [over video of Arizona congressional candidate Pamela Gorman standing outside, her hair blowing in the wind; she is young, white, and conventionally beautiful] 'Course, that all depends on the caliber of our candidates.Anyways, this is who I'm voting for. 'Cuz this is what politics is about, just like the founding fathers said. Taxes are for dumbasses, that's why that shit ain't in the declaration of independence.
[Cut to four seconds of video of Gorman firing a machine gun.]
Male Voiceover: [over footage of Gorman at a microphone at some townhall-style meeting] Meet Pamela Gorman, candidate for Congress in Arizona 3. [over beauty shot of Gorman with mountains in background] Conservative Christian, and a pretty fair shot!
[Cut to four seconds of video of Gorman firing a hand gun.]
Male Voiceover: [over video of Gorman inside, wearing a business suit with a flag lapel pin; a graphic of the word "taxes" underneath a red strikethrough appears beside her] The insiders in the State Senate wanted to have her hide when she fought against their plan for higher taxes.
[Cut to video of Gorman aiming the hand gun at the word "taxes" and taking a single shot; the word flies offscreen.]
Male Voiceover: [over footage of Gorman shooting the machine gun, and then showing a young man how to aim the hand gun, then shooting the hand gun again herself] But Gorman—she can take care of herself. Rated 100% by the NRA, conservative Pamela Gorman is always right on target.
Pamela Gorman: [over beauty shot, accompanied by "Pamela Gorman for Congress"] I'm Pamela Gorman, and I approve this message.
[Cut to more footage of Gorman shooting the machine gun.]
You all know I'm pro-nunchuck, but I'm also pro-gun, and I would totally hate taxes if I paid them. My hard-earned weed dealing money will not be used to pay for some art queer to take pictures of his boyfriend dressed up like Jesus and then display the prints in a hollowed out console TV and tell me it's an important commentary on the nature of modern religion or whatever. Don't get me wrong—I love art as much as the next dude; I got like 5 Thomas Kinkades and a bunch of nice artistic shit I got when my stepmom Cheryl was doing Home Interiors. But I don't think the government should be paying for that stuff. If those artsy-fartsy types need money, they can borrow some from Michael Angelo. Dude must be rolling in it after painting that big church.
I mean, my friend Harry Sachs makes shitloads, and all's he paints is nature scenes on the sides of vans.
What my weed dealing money does buy is commemorative shell casings engraved with Pamela Gorman's name. These fuckers are going to be collectable, especially when she ends up in the White House. It'll be like one of those Joe the Plumber books. You know it, and I know it. My ex-wife/fiancée Tammy don't know it. She's all pissed at me, because I spent our honeymoon savings on this business venture. She don't know shit about business, cause she's a chick, and doesn't realize I'm sitting on a gold mine. But whatever. I may be broke now. But that's temporary.
And what's more important, anyways—going to the Ponderosa Sun Club in Roseland, or helping Pamela Gorman get to the White House…?
Don't even answer that. It's wrecktorial.
[Previously by Butch Pornstache: Happy Taxes and Teabags Day, I'm a Proud Teabagger and Real American, Men and Trucks and Shit, Cats and Shit, Books and Cupcakes and Shit, Ron Swanson Kicks Butt, Dale Peterson is a Great American, I'm a Man and I Enjoy Mancations.]
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