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A Christmas Message From Mitt Romney


The failed Republican presidential candidate was nice enough to drop by our comments section to give us the real story about his non-desire to win the presidency:

My friends, those of you who are parents can certainly appreciate the enthusiasm with which your children might rise to your defense and the defense of the vast monies and business contacts they stand to inherit. All five of our boys–Tagg, Nog, Zip, Korg, and Biff–are good boys, despite their near-pathological habit of lying to me at each and every turn. But I wanted to take this opportunity to speak to you all here, at my favorite blog of the 47% who are unstoppably bound to government largesse, and explain what Tagg meant.

Before I get to that, however, I am told that there is one among you who enjoys decaptiating his political opponents and placing their severed heads on spikes. Is he here?

Let me be clear: Tagg was speaking as to my desire to be elected President in this election only. In full candor, in 2008 I had absolutely determined that the Office of the Presidency was both the right height and the right magnitude in order to be filled by a person such as myself. Why, I still get a chuckle when I recall Ann and me, so giddy with anticipation, imagining what it would be like to bring the Mexicans who serve as caretakers of our various domiciles to the White House with us and watch them try to tend the Rose Garden without lacerating themselves on the thorns! Ann was particularly enthusiastic at the idea that one or more of them might contract sepsis from their wounds.

Ha ha! “Sepsis”! Terrific!

At any rate, my friends, when the Republican electorate saw fit to pass me over in favor of the older, but no whiter and substantially less wealthy, John McCain, I still maintained an enthusiasm for the possibility of running again four years later. Indeed, I began to hear from Corporation-Americans across this nation, speaking to me, and not in the usual “Please don’t dismember us and cut out our organs and sell the parts off to the highest bidder before dumping our shattered bodies into some overseas sex trade sewer!” way that I had become accustomed to hearing from them while I was at Bain. No, my friends, these corporations were large corporations, good corporations, and they were in pain. A…stain, if you will, had blotted the office of the Presidency, um, darkening it, as it were, and our country’s outlook seemed, uh, blacker by the…OK, they’re telling me I should just stop this here. I’m sure you get the idea.

However, the dream died for me late in 2011. I can still remember the words leaving my mouth like it was yesterday:

“Come on, Saul, I have to clear at least a 14% effective rate this year! I’m running for President, for Pete’s sake!”

Saul, for reference, is our lead tax accountant. Lovely man, he’s a Hebraic but insists that he’ll be honored when I posthumously baptize him into The Church.

Anyway, as soon as the words left my lips I realized how hollow I felt inside. Sure, being President would have been an interesting experience. But was it still the right height for a job that should be done by someone such as myself? I couldn’t in good conscience say that it was. What is the point of being the “Most Powerful Person in the World,” at least as far as the various less fortunates are concerned, if one has to forfeit one’s hard-invested monies to the government in order to win that office? When I think of all those 2011 millions, condemned to pay for some woman’s birthing control units rather than joining their would-be brothers in our various Cayman and Swiss accounts, why, there’s just no joy in that for me, my friends.

And so I say, no, take your elective office. I’ll be back down to my usual 3-5% effective tax rate next year, and that’s OK as far as I’m concerned. And don’t you worry about Ann and me. We’ll pull through this somehow.

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  • c u n d gulag

    FSM, now THAT was a work of genius!

    • mark f

      Yes, three cheers for this Mitt.

      • Malaclypse

        I’d like to buy this Mitt a White Horse.

  • Abū l-Walīd Muḥammad bin ʾAḥmad bin Rušd

    The infidel who wrote this shows grace and wisdom, for a Frankish barbarian.

  • Warren Terra

    That was far and above the best comment I’ve seen all year.

    PS I wish to remind everyone that Mitt Romney – who I assume would never fail to fulfill his word – pledged during the campaign that he would release two years’ tax returns “before the end of the year”. So far, he’s released his 2010 tax returns, and released estimates of his 2011 tax returns. He’s got six days left to fulfill his pledge. We all know how hard it is to get things done during the holidays, and I really think we ought to be rooting for him to pull through and make good.

    • Malaclypse

      Of course, with extensions, those returns were still due October 18. I’d hate to think that Mittens overlooked that important deadline.

  • Warren Terra

    By the way, the blockquote above is missing at least one joke: the comment was posted by Mitt “Mitt” Romney.

    PS are all of the sons recognizable jokes? I mean, Tagg is an actual living, breathing joke, and I recognized Nog and Biff – but Zip? Korg?

    • c u n d gulag

      I believe Korg was originally named “Nerf,” but changed because he felt his original name was too soft.

    • “Korg” is a thinly disguised Kodos.

    • Jewish Steel
    • Mudge

      This has the aura of TBogg, who reveled in giving the World’s Worst Mother’s children boffo names like Nog and Korg. The level of snark overall is worthy of him, not just the names.

      • Uncle Kvetch

        the World’s Worst Mother

        Those were the days…misty watercolor memories…

    • Halloween Jack

      Korg got a keytar for his birthday, but stopped practicing after he started to get a funny feeling in his magic-underwear area and didn’t know what to do about it.

  • Book

    Was a full transcript of Romney’s post-election conference-call tirades against the gift-giver in chief ever produced?

    That seemed like the apex of his plutocratic fever dreams.

  • Merry Moronimas, Mitt!

  • I’m betting wjts again.

    • wjts

      I wish.

  • Bravo l’artiste

  • SamR

    Wow. Bravo!

  • rickhavoc

    Not since Billmon…

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