A day in the life...

So I managed to score an internship at the Brady Campaign out here on the West Coast with their MMM chapter in Eugene, Oregon. I put in 2 hours each day, unpaid of course, after a real job which allows me the financial freedom to spend my free time exploring…uh…interesting creatures.

After receiving the “50 cent tour” of their basement facilities by someone I couldn’t guess the gender of, I was briefed on what the average day consisted of in support of gun-control.

I work my usual 8-9 hours at a paying gig and show up at 3:30pm…

3:30-3:32.……the proverbial 2-minute hate where we all sit naked in a circle and swear like drunken sailors about the NRA while burning incense and melting butter with our body heat. I like swearing for proper emphasis and enjoyed teaching them a few new renditions of themselves. As far as the smell of burning sage/rosemary and clinching a cold cube of “I can’t believe it’s not illegal” between my butt-cheeks, I was actually starting to wonder if I had taken the wrong path in defending the COTUS.

3:32-4:00pm is spent doing google searches for “CCW murders” and “racist Tea-party horse sex.” I asked a question about that second one but dropped the matter after they snatched away my cube of butter.

4:00-4:15pm is spent on the philosophical implications of a coinciding 10% unemployment rate with the fact that the Brady Bunch can’t find a new CEO. I chimed in that perhaps a $250,000 salary for saying stuff easily refuted by other stuff said by the exact same person wasn’t really a winning strategy.

4:15-4:30pm is spent patting ourselves on the back for being merged with the Brady Campaign rather than suffering the total humiliation of being part of the VPC or CSGV.

4:30-4:45pm is spent editing videos to hide the number of audience members at gun-control events and their applause.

4:45-5:00pm is spent weeping uncontrollably.

I was told that I could advance to a paid position of I could crap my pants on demand in front of some theoretical camera…and find someone to pay for it.

So that’s where I’m at folks. I try to post when the mood suits me, but if I have the opportunity to practice pinching a loaf in my shorts for cash…well…you’re just gonna have to wait until this gold mine pans out dry.

Uhmmmmmm….butter.