I live with liberals. I live among them. On a daily basis I see union Democrats who honestly think we conservative Republicans want everyone to make three dollars an hour. I went to school with progressives that actually believe we hate the earth and all the people in it, and that we hope and pray to return to a sort of Darwinian society of acting like feral barn cats and foraging for nuts and berries and bludgeoning each other to death in weird mating rituals — mating rituals that are only between one man and one woman, I might add.
Liberals honestly think we have a screw loose. For the most part, they find us just as equally strange and idiotic as we find them. So, for the past few years I have been taking it all in. I’ve stopped arguing with them. Stopped casting my pearl before the swine and realized some people are just beyond saving. I’ve been listening in to what they are saying about us and the way we live our lives. It’s actually pretty hilarious how they think we think.
I was discussing this with a few friends the other day and they started laughing as I described some personal revelations I found out about myself while conversing with progressives in the past. That’s when I decided, I was going to write a first-person piece on the views of a conservative from the perspective of the ever-inventive mind of a liberal.
Conservative for a Day: As Narrated by a Liberal
Have you ever sat on a mountain top, just taking in the ethereal beauty of it and the surrounding world in which it sits? Had a tear fill your eye and feel completely at one with nature? Me neither!
Why the heck would you do that, anyway? No, I’d much rather rip it in half and rape it of its natural resources. Afterwards, I might even see if I can get some non-union kids to haul some sludge down to the old swimmin’ hole for minimum wage. They’ll gripe at first but hey, good old fashioned manual labor built this country…that and slavery.
No, I want to make that money, honey. The money, it’s what I want.
Money drives me. Really gets me up in the morning, ya know? Every morning I get out of bed, shuffle to the bathroom where I shower for about five minutes, then I make sure I let the water run for an extra 10 minutes, just because it’s America and we have the resources to do it. I check my beautiful self out in the mirror and properly comb my hair in the most heterosexual fashion possible and trim up my manly moustache to match that of my idol: Ron Swanson, from that Parks and Recreation show…It’s a good show, a bit too culturally diverse for my liking though.
I slip into my favorite Brooks Brothers’ suit and then begin my day by walking down the hallway and verbally berating my children for a few minutes…it builds their character. I head down to the kitchen where my wife is, as she is supposed to be, cooking me my all-American morning meal. I read The Washington Times as I swallow down the delicious cooked underbelly of an innocent pig…hope it had a family…I like my breakfast to have a background story.
I grab my Rush Limbaugh coffee cup, my favorite cup, and fill it with coffee, whose beans I can only hope were picked by Colombian child workers…small delicate fingers, doesn’t harm the beans, saves the flavor. Seriously, think about it.
I walk outside, salute my American flag, hop in my gloriously large GMC SUV, roll all the windows down, crank up the AC, and blare my Toby Keith album…mmm, good morning, America.
I get to my big office building, have some minority kid park my car for me, and head into work to “manage mutual hedge funds,” where I make sure I can make the rich richer and keep the poor from moving up in the world.
On the way in, I pass a homeless bearded man, and it strikes me that I haven’t prayed this morning. So, I stop in front of him, and pray aloud to my Eurocentric Capitalist god to help me through the day, and not make sinful decisions like this poor vagabond. After my heartfelt prayer, I look at the vagrant and give him a wink, little does he know that economic prosperity will soon trickle down to him, hopefully my shining moral example will help guide him through his problems.
I stroll into the office with my head held high after completing my good deed for the day. I give a wave to Nancy, my secretary, who pays more than I do in taxes…sucker.
I go in, answer a couple of emails, make a few phone calls, set up tomorrow morning’s tee time, and kick my feet up to watch Fox News for the rest of the day. I also like to log in under my secret account name, NightShadow413, on The Daily Caller and comment on controversial topics…Trolling is so deliciously evil, and I love it.
After work I head straight home to partake in one of my truly indulgent pleasures…mowing the lawn. I used to have a Mexican fella take care of it, but I’ve thought about running for office and I’ve seen what they’ve done to Mitt Romney over that kind of thing. Besides, since I’ve started doing it, I’ve devloped quite the love for it. Every time I do it, I get the same feeling I got when I voted for Dubya. Sends chills up my spine…ahh, freedom.
After a long day of maintaining the status quo and having personal time out on the lawn mower, I come in and sit down with my family for a delicious dinner that my wife has prepared for us. The meat is a tad dry…you’d think she would’ve figured out how to prevent that by now? I mean all she does is cook, clean, and lay around the house. Just womanly things. How hard is it to make a moist roast? Her mind must be somewhere else. Another man? Is she having an affair? My underwear have been fitting a bit snug recently…
As we prepare for bed I make sure my children know that I love them, but how disappointed I am of them, not for any particular reason, I just assume it’ll make them work harder. Go ahead, tell me how flawless my logic is… Later on that evening, I head to bed with my wife, giving her just enough affection to fulfill my husbandries and enough to let her know that I’m not impressed with the roast. She can do better.
I lay in bed with a large conservative smile on my face, drifting to sleep thinking of golf and being content with the notion that Ronald Reagan is smiling down on me from the great beyond.
Note: The preceding views are not intended to be actual opinions on issues. Also, if you are one of those people who actually needed that disclaimer — get over yourself.