When Politicians Attack

Today I am thankful for all those lovely moments that occur when politicians attack.

 

 

I'm really surprised no one has written a script based on political attacks. 

 

It would be a great comedy. 

 

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I was a young pup when I was attacked by my first politician.  He was my step-uncle.  He beat his son within an inch of his life in front of a red-headed ten year old. He told me to keep my mouth shut because no one would believe me. 

 

The case worker at social services did.  I went down with Grandma and we had a tale to tell that matched a young man's bruises.  

 

My uncle never did win the mayor's seat. 

 

This female dog only grew worse with age. 

 

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I've always been an activist.  My baby sister was a run away.  I spent years fighting with the department of human services trying to win custody of her.  I lived in a huge metropolis at the time and, quite sadly, Human Services preferred that she live on the street in their city than with a married twenty year old sister in another county. 

I made friends with homeless people.  I fed them.  I gave them money.  They found my sister for me.  It took them two years but they remembered me.  I got a collect call one day from a man who told me that I would find her at a certain park in the afternoons.  He was right.

 

My ex and I fought for her custody in the courts for years.  We never won.  The authorities put her in a home in another state where the foster mother would force young men to have sex with her in the hopes of getting her pregnant so they could adopt a baby. 

 

This was how I became politically active.  This was how I learned to threaten politicians while smiling and using embedded hypnotic commands. 

 

I got my sister back and met the state attorney general. 

 

I never wanted politics to become a lifestyle. 

 

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I love it when the politicians attack. 

 

 

I still don't know how this latest political round started.  I think it had something to do with my ex having an affair with his boss at the city building.  I was on my way out anyway...the affair never bothered me. 

 

It was the HR department ripping $500 out of my 'divorce savings fund' that pissed me off.  They illegally fined him.  It took me years to get to the bottom of why they did that. 

 

They did it because he was fat. 

 

I'll take care of the HR manager and the chicky that illegally fined me in my own way.  They'll never work for another city again because I've got so many blogs and documentation of their nasty emails and phone calls all over the Internet.  Should their new employer Google their names, they're toast!!! 

 

I'm a female dog. 

 

So, when I was tracing where my divorce lawyer fund went, I called the city.  At first, they just had their lawyers call me to try to intimidate me.  That was a lot of fun.  I learned how to hypnotize people when I was eight years old.  I'm a geezette now and have had a lot of practice putting people under a hypnotic spell. 

 

People should know better than to play with me on the phone.  I like to tell hypnotic stories with embedded commands. 

 

It took a couple of months for the city attorneys to realize what I was doing. 

 

They don't call me at home anymore. 

 

Then they had me deposed.  I controlled that chick. 

 

Lawyers are easily hypnotized. 

 

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Then they had a hot guy take me out for coffee.  He promised me a romp in the hay unlike anything a man has ever promised me before. 

 

I squirmed.  I panted.  I sweated.  I told him 'no'. 

 

The man and I became friends years later.  It turns out he's close to the current mayor.

 

I'm still celibate. 

 

It can be fun when politicians attack. 

I guess they like to set people up to sin like the dickens. 

That doesn't work out so well with empathic prudes. 

I'm sorry....

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Did I tell you about the film crew they sent to film me eat dinner? 

 

I pretended to have an eating disorder. 

 

I pretended to have no manners. 

 

Food went flying everywhere. 

 

The cameraman was beside himself as he feared I'd ruin his equipment and he took off.   Before he left, he admitted to being the neighbor of the former mayor and the head honcho at the city owned television station. 

He wasn't very good at keeping secrets. 

 

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The former mayor cracked me up.  He knew I was a hypnotist.  Hypnotists are sonnambules.  This means that we go into trance at the drop of the hat and are highly suggestible. 

 

He said I had no voice in government. 

 

He obviously never read any of my published articles. 

 

People under trance don't hear the word 'no'.  When he said that, I heard that I 'had a voice in government'.

 

Yeppers, he reaffirmed my belief in my ability to have a voice in government. 

 

I wanted to sit in his seat.  Vying for it gave me a lot of places to give speeches about his bad behavior at the helm. 

 

The old mayor literally pushed me into a door jam/wall one day.  This is funny.  Do you know why? 

 

One of the reasons the HR gave for stealing $500 was a story that my ex pushed me into a wall in the middle of the night as we slept together.  We didn't sleep together.  I have no clue where the heck that story came from.  So, rightfully, I swore up and down that didn't happen. 

 

So, the former mayor, gave me the experience of snuggling drywall. 

 

I can't look at him without laughing. 

 

What a sissy!!! 

 

He pushes women into walls like a girl!!! 

 

Oh, he doesn't know this but he's highly suggestible, too.  I used to sit at city council meetings with my activist buddies and bet them that I would make the former mayor twirl in his chair. 

 

All you have to do is stare at him and lick your lips.  He'll stare back and fall into a trance. 

 

Yep...then, in that trance, he'd copy whatever I did.  So, if I started swaying back and forth, he did the same.  If I swayed side by side, he did that, too.   The difference was that his chair was a swivel chair, so he would end up twirling around. 

 

That was fun.... 

 

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Now, the politicians are on forums calling me names.  They always have done that. 

 

I've been called fat, obese, ugly. 

 

I've been called a man. 

 

They think I'm a dude!!! 

 

If they think that I'm a guy; I actually fear meeting their wives.  

 

Now, though, they are attacking my credibility in the funniest way. 

 

They'll pick apart something I say. 

 

I'll ask them for proof. 

 

And, they'll come back whining that people think they are breaking the law and hiding behind anonymous names. 

 

I don't do that.  I post under my name.  They don't.  They use anagrams of their true names.  They also use the same language patterns which tend to betray their identities. 

 

It's so flippin' hard not to post to them...

 

Hi Dick!!!  or Hi Tom!!!  or Hi Harry!!!

 

They are looking like a bunch of criminals. 

 

Why would people think they are breaking the law? 

 

No one ever says that...except the politicians.

 

I wonder what law they are breaking? 

I analyze all of their meeting minutes with qualitative research software.  If it is there, I will find it. 

 

Hypnosis works both ways.  We can influence people to do what we want and we can betray ourselves to others. 

 

The criminal thing is projection.  They think we think they broke the law because they did. 

 

I just can't figure out which law they broke. 

 

Hmmmmm....maybe I'll get to meet the current attorney general, eh?  

 

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I'm laughing so much at them that my stomach is incredibly toned. 

 

Please....stop....don't....stop....

 

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What they don't know is that I've got these high ranking men pegged to a 't'.  I can tell you which of them are breast men. 

 

Breast men are fun.  They tend to be the guys in love with their mommies and frightened of women. 

 

Couple that with their speaking patterns and I can own their little arses.  All one has to do is take a deep breath and sing their first and middle names and they go into a brain freeze. 

 

It is like a breast man re-boot. 

 

For example, I get my singing voice going and use an angry tone to blurt

 

"Harry Richard get back over here this instant!!"

 

Lo' and behold for a brief second, I've stunned a turd and left him highly suggestible. 

 

It's fun.  Try it sometime. 

 

Leg men are harder to freak out.  I haven't quite gotten them down yet.  I will and I will write a book about it.  I'll call it the unashamed activist guide to controlling stupid male politicians. 

 

Thankfully, for me, most of the politicians I've met are breast men. 

 

Women aren't as easy to control as the guys. 

This is probably why the Democrats are winning most of the elections.  Women think with their brains. 

Men think with their nether regions. 

How we think makes a difference. 

 

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I've got to move because I think I'm going to die laughing. 

I had code enforcement hanging out in front of the house the other day.  

I'm sorry.  It was a holiday and they made him scope out our property. 

I felt sad for his wife and kids. 

I would have made him coffee and baked him cookies but I actually like the guy.  I didn't want to make him sick. 

Soo....

Rather than have me cited for having a pot of voodoo weed in my front yard, if the politicians want  to send another hot guy my way with detailed promises of sex play

I really would welcome that. 

 

This time I think I'll tape record him and have his poetic promises transcribed.  Maybe we can write a book together and earn some dough. 

I promise to donate 10% to have a woman on the council re-elected because I want a challenge. 
 

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Don't....stop....please...no....

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I'm going to miss that one trick pony town when I move. 

 

 

Love ya,

 

S.