Why I'm a Republicrat

WARNING: THIS POST MAKES NO SENSE AT ALL (unless you've got your silly thinking cap on.)

A few days ago one of my students (HEATHER) asked me (IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE CLASS) who I voted for!

Hello! That's like asking someone how old they are or if they're pregnant or why they didn't get married in the temple.

(Nosy Heather!)

I don't tell ANYONE who I vote for. Not even my kids because half my kids told me they would be ashamed of me if I voted for the maverick, and the other half told me they'd never speak to me again if I voted for the socialist. (Sorry, Sue, it is what it is. I love it when Sue gets her knickers all in a knot and turns off her comment box ).

The only reason my husband knows who I voted for is because he spied on me through those flimsy red, white and blue striped voting booth curtains.

My friends try to trick me into divulging my true feelings by offering me free movie tickets or asking me slippery questions like, "Soooooo, lovely weather we're having, areyouHAPPYabouttheoutcomeoftheelection?"

Such an easy answer.

"We shall see," tricky friends. "We shall see."

That being said, I am willing to tell a select few what party I'm affiliated with because parties should never be kept secret. People get hurt and feel left out when parties are kept secret.

I'm a Republicrat. Or at least a Republicratelion. (first person who figures that out gets a dollar.)

Why, you ask?

I love change, especially if it's vague and ambiguous and ambivalent and ambidextrous. Surprise me! That's my motto.

I love skim, 1%, 2% and whole milk, but I don't love homogeny because cream should be allowed to rise and then share it's delicious calories, of it's own volition, so everyone can become deliciously well-rounded (double meaning) (before we all get sicker than a dog and hurl those calories across the universe.)

(I know. I don't get that either. If I were a dairy farmer right now I'd be ROTFLOL and dropping a quarter in my comment box, but I'm not so . . . I'm not.)

I love variety and I love spice, and variety really is the spice of life, (besides curry and nutmeg.)

I don't love mavericky western movies where the Lone Ranger rides off into the sunset with his pitbull-sidekick, Tonto, but I do love Maverick Country stores in Provo. (I'm only gonna make a few cents on that joke since I have no readers from Provo, except when I mention GLENN BECK!)

I love Glenn Beck, but I don't love it when he uses "that tone of voice" on my husband. And I love my husband, but I don't love it when he uses "that tone of voice" on me.

(btw, Glenn Beck and my husband are irrelevant to this conversation.)

I don't love war, but peace makes me paranoid. (j/k all you war mongers and anti-war mongers.)

I don't love Robin Hood. That was never my favorite story. But Spamalot ROCKS so hard! I am so serious about how much I LOVE Spamalot. It's even better than Wicked.

I don't love big brothers who get all up in my face and burn my house down just because I want to be legally immoral.

I don't love to hug trees (too abrasive) but I love to exchange CO2 with them so they don't get asthmatic.

I love powerful speeches delivered by handsome men. But I also love powerful actions delivered by handsome women (or handsome joe-the-pizza-delivery-boys, especially if their actions are smothered in pepperoni and olives.)

(Okay, that was random too.)

Bottom line: I love correct principals, but I love to govern myself.

I don't think the means-to-the-end should be justified.

But I don't think the end-to-the-means should be justified either.

So that's why I'm a Democlan. I mean, a Republicrat.

Ah, heck! You got me. I'm actually a Madisonian Federalist.