We can't run our own affairs. We're stupid. We can't coordinate a vote. We're hateful, moronic Country Club conservatives and we're red plaid shirted scraggly guys at the bar. We'd shoot you if we could.
We're golf players.
We're those pink and white beaches filled with your Jewish grandparents, their skin hanging off them like brown saddle bags. "Get me another Coke, honey, and stop talking about Obama!"
We're gun-toting Cubans. We're suave drug dealers with motorboats. We're car thieves in Miami chop shops. We're old men with orange tans and white, shiny shoes. We're the pool boy.
We're Jeb Bush angling to be your president some day.
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