We’re back with Thing Two’s captivating story of two
vampires people torn apart by POLITICS. Can the two ever be together, what with the probable different number of chromosomes? Let’s find out in part two of: The Republican and the Democrat: A Love Story.
GUNS, GUNS AND MORE GUNS
Ken went on the wonderful web and looked for a good lookin’ dating website for him to find a new gal.
“Hey this one looks swell.” He took a deep breath and started on Democrathotties.com
Voting for: Bernie Sanders
Hobbies: Having long debates on the beach
More about ME: My favorite color is blue, my favorite animal is a donkey, and my uncle is
Bernie Sanders, and I live in a cardboard house since I donated all my money to orphans, plus I’m poor….cool right!!!???
*insert hawt picture*
Before he had decided which angle, or whether he wanted to have his shirt on or not for his “hawt” picture, he got 2 requests already. The first girl was named Bindi Roosevelt, who also liked Donkeys. The other girl was named Katy Reagan…and her picture had her in a red bikini, next to 3 guns. Being bewildered on how such a Republican appeared on a Democratic dating site, he rejected both. His dog started to howl loudly as he finally took his needed picture and went to bed …. dreaming about rich little Marsha.
It was decided, Ken was going on a date with Harley Quinn
Ken finally got to the internet cafe where he was to meet his new more than friends friend (hopefully). He parked his Beatle bike and swayed into the cafe. He sat down at a table and made sure that no crumbs had stayed undefeated with a brush of his hand …. and he waited.
Marsha put on her black Prada sandals, and put up her coat. She checked her bed for BB’s, and texted her new boyfriend who went by the name “Chad” which most likely stood for Courageous Happy-go lucky Amazing Democrat hater. A knock came from the north of the house…it was Chad!
“Hey!!” Marsha was so excited to get to know this new man. “Hi Chad!”
“Actually my name is Alejandro, I just shortened it to Chad.” Marsha couldn’t find what sounded weird about that but who cares!!??
“Well, are we ready?” he asked.
Masha got on her billion dollar hat worn by the queen of England. “Yep! All ready!!”
They set off on their journey to the cafe.
“Hey…this place sounds good, maybe we can eat here.” he said.
Marsha thought it was a great idea…it smelled pretty good in there. They walked in and Marsha sat down while Chad grabbed some napkins. Marsha looked around the place, it looked pretty nice except….
Kennedy was there!!!!
The suspense is killing you, I’m sure. We’ll find out what happens next in part three of the thrilling saga of those political lovebirds. Thing Two was kind enough to leave a message for me at the end of her writing. Here it is.
*Dear mom, if you are reading this then your prob editing…just so you know, your doing a great job and i love you*
I have pretty amazing kids.
Congrats to all of you. Thing Two, my eleven-year-old, is a young writer. She aspired to write as well as Stephenie Meyer, and did so back in first grade. Still, she decided to write a love story about a Democrat and a Republican in Twilight fashion. I found it quite promising, and have only (I swear) edited it for grammar and spelling. Well I edited it as much as Stephenie would. Enjoy.
The Republican and the Democrat: A Love Story
This is the story of the Democrat and the Republican, which is a way better story than Twilight…..like totes…. just ask SM.
Diz iz the bestz stoiy ever bout ROMANCEEEEEEEEEEEE
See!!! Even famous writers like it. So…. let’s get that out of the way…first we have to tell the story…DUH!!!!! (great intro right!!!???)
Kennedy stared at her…her beauty could send one to the moon. Her eyes were as sparkling as global warming. His heart played a saxophone to the tune of her blinks.
“Hey…. you ready for our date??”
Ken snapped out of his fantasy from the feelings he had once she met him.
“Okay now since you have snapped out of it I’ll discuss the plans, first… we need to catch the taxi…but the driver has to be American!!!” Wondering why she was so specific about the driver’s race he called the taxi with her.
“This is so romantic!” she said with a sweet stare. The date was almost done…he had passed through all the questions..but he had a feeling one was approaching.
“Hey….” here it comes he thought, the question…he armed himself with excuses. “Are you Republican or Democrat???”
“Democrat.” he said.
She dropped her drink as her mascara dribbled down her cheek. “I’MMM……A REPUBLICAN.” she said “WEEEE CAN’T BE TOGETHER!!!!”
His heart failed…and he fainted.
Ken woke up to a voice stronger than silver. “I’m sorry…”
He tried to gain his memory. “I’m sorry too…. Marsha.”
“It’s my fault my uncle is Trump.”
Ken understood…since Uncle Bernie wanted him to only date Democrats.
“I guess this is it.” Ken realized this was most likely the last time he was to see her.
“Well bye … I guess.” Marsha walked away with mascara dripping down her shirt…Ken yelled after her …. but she only cried and ran farther.
Ken started to see the clues come together…she only wanted a American around her…in fact right once they had their first date she asked him if he was American, he thought as a bird landed on his shoulder.
“I need a new girlfriend,” he mumbled.
What will happen next? Will Ken and Marsha see past their political stereotypes and have a love as shallow as Bella and Edward in Twilight? Who knows, she hasn’t written it yet. Stay tuned.
It is almost time for the election, you guyz, and after only four years of endless preparation and annoyance! A lot of stuff has really been happening out there like the Republican debates (that I didn’t watch) and the Democratic debates (that I also didn’t watch). Some candidates have stood out more than others, like Donald “toupee” Trump for instance:
Oh wait, I’m sorry, that’s an insult to Bozo. I was meaning this guy:
Of course candidates can stand out in various ways. Either for being stupid blowhards (see above) or for having something decent to say. In the Democratic debate, I heard that Bernie Sanders actually requested that they not talk about Hillary Clinton’s emails, not so much for Hillary’s sake as for everyone else’s. Thanks, Bernie. I don’t recall what her emails were supposed to be about. I’m just concerned that she is so old she’s out of touch with America. Everyone these days texts their stupid, possibly illegal crap on their smart phones. Get with the program, Hillary.
But you might be wondering about the title of my blog post, saying you read it. I haven’t felt so good physically lately. I’ve had bronchitis, reaction to antibiotics, stomach virus, more stomach virus, a partridge in a pear tree lodged in my sternum, etc. So I’ve been a bit out of touch (more than normal that is). So if something major has happened, I don’t know because I haven’t been getting my dose of fb news. But I do remember that Trump really got his panties in a wad over Jeb Bush supposedly planting a cute little red haired girl (no relation to Charlie Brown) in his audience to ask him impossible questions like “Do you respect women?” I mean, what is he supposed to say to that?
They did a little research and it turned out that the redheaded girl, oopsie, worked for Jeb Bush’s campaign. Which makes one wonder about why she was asking Trump if he was going to treat women well when clearly Jeb isn’t going to do it, unless he just lost his Republican dos and don’ts flash cards and forgot. At any rate, Jeb claimed that he had NO IDEA she would be there. Trump, in a rare moment of brilliance, said that was a bunch of crap. I watched with glee. I love it when they fling poo on each other.
But what about the dream part, Alice? Does that have something to do with Jeb throwing an egg at you, or did you just decide to get involved as a lobbyist after all? Well, it was a dream. Yup, I dreamed about Jeb Bush. No not like THAT! I would only take Obama to the prom, as I did in another whacked out dream years ago. This dream had to do with eggs, and Jeb, and ebay. I’ll explain.
See I was walking down one side of the street, and on the other side, there was Jeb Bush with some of his cronies. And they were riding along behind this old lady on an old mare and Jeb asked his aide “What’s that in front of us?” And his aide said “Old mares!” And they both laughed and laughed. And I thought that was not very funny so I yelled over there. In response, they pelted me with eggs. But not just any eggs. When the egg exploded on my shirt it read “Jeb Bush for President” in sticky egg goo. Rather ingenious way to get your message across, but I was quite irritated. I marched over to him and asked why he did that. In response he looked at me in that adorable, befuddled way he does:
So I just took a picture of him and went on to some conference or circus, or something like that. I explained to my friends about getting Bush egg on me, and how I planned to sell my shirt along with the picture (for absolute proof) on Ebay. Makes sense to me. Or it did, until I woke up. Now I will never know how much money I got for getting pelted by Republican eggs. Darn it.
What does this have to do with politics or the issues or any of that stuff? Absolutely nothing. Which means I have told you just as much as your average news report. This is your raving reporter Alice, signing off.
By the way – have you ever had a dream with politicians in it? Or, er nightmare? Let me know in the comments below! Or just tell me why you hate politicians, that will do too. I’ll be getting to work on my political egg bombs – I think the idea shows promise.
|Eenie, Meenie, Minie . . .|
|You have to wonder just what’s
in that coke they’re drinking
|Maslow’s hierachy applied to the Internet|
|Notice the Christmas sock tree doesn’t have a single matching pair.
Damn you, Christms sock tree!