Get to work 
Matthew Griswold Bevin!

Half way through watching Governor Bevin’s “#GetToWork” video I found myself scratching my head like a confused pet chimpanzee who has just been asked to cast a spread of tarot cards for a love torn debutante, like what in all that monkey hell is this?! Did Bevin one day at lunch go stumbling through the House looking for a vending machine in hopes of purchasing a personal bag of Andy Capp’s Hot Fries before shooting a text to his BFF Kim Davis, a text loaded with gay-jokes, laced with misinterpreted Bible quotes and bulging with bigotry, get lost like his first day in first grade and find his rotten self in the empty, chamber floors and suddenly think aloud?

“Those lazy good for nothin’ Liblards! I got ‘em dead to rights!” And Kaboom! A dim, piss-yellow, 40-watt bulb flashed above his head with an insane star-spangled vision of YouTube glory boiling over with Tea-Bag hijinks and conservative guffaws, the type of tripe that gets the tri-cornered hat crowd all hot ’n bothered under the collar and hitting the “like button” as if they were some Polar-Pop-stained goober high on meth and burning his irises out on Pornhub down in the deepest basement any enabling grandmother has ever furnished, all the while dropping fire-sale comments that hold the thoughtful aroma of two-day-old stank-ass casserole? Or could there be a GOP version of WorldStarHipHop. I’ve sadly never heard of where videos and vines of Mitch McConnell attempting to pop ’n lock shirtless in his rumpus room are coupled with footage of Rick Snyder cold-cocking a homeless man in his eye socket outside of a Detroit plasma center as a gang of Snyd-guys wasted on Flint Water™ watch on and chant “Grandy Ol!”?

The whole thing plays out like some sort of misconceived prank whereby some weird twist of fuck, the non-gangster prankster (the flunk-hunk governor elect of this most conflicted state) becomes a punchline, punched so hard, in his ever-lovin’ he crashes through joke wall after joke wall until he lands in “Quadrant Butt” (this dude became the butt of the very joke he was telling!). A rare feat I do tell ya! And all along, just a cock, skip and a jump away at the Grand Annex the paper was being pushed, the eraserheads were being sucked, the laptops were acting unruly, and the numbers were being crunched and glided on the biggest and bestest abacus money could afford by red-eyed Democrats (and sleepy-headed Republicans too? Fuck, I don’t know, I’m not a book-learned journalist, This ain’t my beat. Get off my ass!), all in the name of the almighty state budget! Seeing as all this played out as about as well as a rejected skit from the terminally awful MAD TV, I found Greg “the Plague” Stumbo’s reaction to be way too mature for my foul, beef-startin’ taste, Greg the Plague should have simply looked into the camera, rolled his eyes to the sky and made the international jerk-off motion with his left hand (personal note: I use my right hand to wield the pen and my left hand to raise the scepter, but that’s just between us, friend-o) because that’s how wack and craptastic this whole fiasco is!

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