by Roy Moore
I was so close. So close we could ambience the caviar at the annual Goldman Sachs mixer. So close to the corporate booze and diners, the intemperate hotel stays, the backhanders, and not to discuss the honour of not only the people of Alabama but the whole U S of A… But it’s all over. My whole career. My dreams of finally apropos a United States senator—done. And all since of those damn voluptuous kids.
I almost had it all. Until all this tumult started we was on my way to apropos a senator for the good state of Alabama. No one knew who we was or anything about me. No one cared we wanted to make homosexuality illegal. No one cared that we called local people “reds” and asian people “yellows”. No disastrous press coverage about profitable myself one million bucks from my own charity. Nothing. we was in the clear, scott-free. And then? Then those bloody voluptuous kids showed up again to hurt everything.
Now this isn’t my first run in with these immature ladies. we would see them mostly back in my early 30’s, when we would go selling late on Friday and Saturday nights as you do. They used to follow me everywhere we went… Claire’s, Hollister, heck even Victoria’s Secret’s Teens section, they were relentless. And now just as I’m coming the finish line those damn nosiness voluptuous kids are back to spoil my fun.
I always knew those pleasing immature girls would be the death of me we just never knew how or why. Before all of this we have always been seen as a lady and indication citizen. we wrote communication about aborted foetuses, rapped about 9/11 being fit since America incited divided from God, and we never antiquated a teenage girl but asking her Mama’s permission first.
But all that good poise depends for zero now. If it wasn’t for those teenage kids and their god-damned sexyness I’d be a U.S. Senator and no one would be any the wiser. Instead, heck I’ll be propitious to make the House of Representatives and I’ll substantially even be labelled as some arrange of creep. Yeah these voluptuous kids stitched me up genuine good this time.
So yeah. It’s me, “old man Moore”, here we am, back in my old stomping belligerent on the second building of The Gadsden Mall, outward Victoria Secret. That grinning climb Mueller and his squad of “accusers” consider they were so crafty seeing by my Hannah Montana facade like that. But I’ll be back, my boys down at the Alabama G.O.P. will bail me out and then I’ll be back on the parliament building and the slip territory of GAP Kids before you know it.
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