Monday, August 22, 2005

I Demand To Speak To...(A PGHA)

A Precision Guided Humor Assignment:

The lengths I won't go through to complete missions for the Alliance! HQ has asked that we camp out in front of some celebrity's house, all Sheehan style, and demand to meet with said celebrity about something. I chose the most angelic, beautiful, witty and intelligent celebrity I could think of, Ann Coulter. I am camping outside her residence to demand a date. I have been marching back and forth all day with my poster board sign.

I just finished making a new sign. It says:

"Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night."

She shot the other one that said:

"C'mon momma show me how you do it.
go 'head, put yo back into it.
Do yo thang like they ain't nuttin' to it,
Shake, sha, sha, shake dat @$$ gurl."

I guess Ann isn't into Fitty Cent. I figured maybe she'd like the Shakespeare quote better, and since I am so damn uncreative I have to use other peoples' words on my signs.

*GASP* Here she comes!

Ann: WTF do you want?

Fmragtops: I just want a date Ms. Coulter. I think you are the most awe inspiring woman I have ever seen.

Ann: What about this Glock model 23 I am carrying?

Fm: That's a fine weapon. So simple, yet so effective. It's very intimidating from this straight down the barrel vantage point. I've never been on this end of a Glock 23 before. Your taste in weaponry is impeccable.

Ann: Well, if you don't want this .40 S&W Hydrashock to introduce you to Jesus, I suggest you run in the opposite direction while keeping your head low, and moving in a serpentine fashion, perv boy!

Fm: Run away! Run away! Run away!

Damn It! It's hard to argue with that kind of logic, so I am going home now. That bullet lodged in my femur stings a little. I need a beer! Preferably Guiness. Maybe I'm crazy, but I still love Ms. Coulter. Maybe the next time I protest my lack of a date with Ann Coulter, I'll do it in my own yard.