God dammit! Seriously, god fucking dammit. This is really not what I wanted to deal with today. Or at all.
I mean, seriously, I’m what, three weeks into this presidency and I’ve already got a national crisis? This is worse than that 9/11 shit. At least Dubya had all that patriotism at his back, not people talking about secession.
Jesus Christ. No, I’m okay. Just gimme a minute.
All right, let’s do this. No, I’m ready. First off, a message to Wyoming – I know you assholes are listening. Anarchy doesn’t mean that you turn off the TV. You shitheads crossed a serious line, here. I mean, really, of all the places for anarchy to take over and launch a secession, you’re going to pick the place with twice as many cows as people? You know that our drones can tell the difference between a cow and a person, right? And we’re not wasting Hellfire missiles on the one that goes “moo,” I’ll tell you that much.
No, you guys are in some serious shit.
What? National Guard? Yeah, I suppose that I’ll end up sending them in there. Bring food, restore order, whatever else their brochures say. But honestly, right now I’m tempted to just nuke the whole shitty state until it’s flat. Maybe that’ll finally shut up those assholes in Texas.
I mean, come on, Wyoming. You know how important cows are to your state? You still hand out fines to people who forget to close fence gates. If that doesn’t scream “country hayseed,” I don’t know what does. In your language: y’all done fucked up there, I reckon.
Anyway. Hey, Julie, what time is it? Ten, ten thirty? When can I start drinking?
Oh, right. Speech. Well, to the rest of the nation, and the world, I guess, don’t take a dump in your bonnets yet. We’ve got this shit under control. The borders are locked down, and unless they’ve figured out how to weaponize cow turds, we don’t have much of a threat. We don’t even have missile silos in that state any more. Even the secret NSA ones are further south. No one wants to go to Wyoming anyway.
So yeah. Shit’s under control. And we’re gonna smoke ’em out. Embargoes on all junk food, and we’re blocking all their TV channels except C-Span. Oh, and Bravo. That shit’ll rot anyone’s brain.
All right. I think that’s everything. Wyoming, you’ve got 24 hours to get your panties out of your ass and come crawling back with an apology. I’m really not kidding about that nuke shit. You know how many calls that would take? One. And it’s only, like, 4 buttons I’d have to press.
Yeah, I’m done. Turn off the cameras, unless you want to record your new president getting shit-faced and chucking empties at the geese on the White House lawn. I did bean one of those fuckers right between the eyes, though. You shoulda recorded that. It was hilarious.
The skiing’s better in Colorado anyway.