Wednesday, April 20, 2005

My letter to the ACLU.

To Whom it May or May Not Concern:

After reading this story and seeing a these pictures, I'm encouraged to tender my request for employment based on my prize skills with a Zig-Zag.

I hope the following will serve as an acceptable alternative to a resume, because my work experience has been limited to only one job that didn't involve selling weed. I've also been banned from Kinko's for sending faxes of my butt to Bush/Cheney HQ.

I went to college at North Dakota State University. I earned a degree in Drunken Debauchery for the entire semester I was there. Realizing after my 3rd probation violation that there must be a more comfortable atmosphere to exercise brain-cell destruction, I transferred to the University of Minnesota and my 3 credits in "Antidisestablishmentarianism in a Post-Modern World" reluctantly came along.

6 years later I was half way through my degree in Liberal Arts. With it and a few hours of training, I could have worked at McDonald's, but they required a 10-hour per week committment. Based on those unreasonable time requirements, I decided that I didn't want a college degree, I wanted a college career. There are many individuals at the U of M who think the same way, most are called "professors." Some say they're insulating themselves from the real world, I call it "tenure."

Although I slept through most of the classes I didn't miss, I copied other people's notes between setting Nintendo Gameboy records in the library. From what isn't covered in pizza sauce, I've had a Freshman explain enough of Biology class to believe that America is imperialistic and whatever other "tics" mean "really, really bad." I think it's a good thing the US doesn't have an official language. There's a beauty to cultural diversity that can only be realized by having to ask, "Huh?"

Feeling that bringing freedom to a civilization shouldn't require any force stronger than a feather duster, I became a war protester. That didn't last long, because I got a job. I was on job for almost long enough to get a paycheck, as my crashing the delivery car required that I take a whizz quiz. Having a number of unique hobbies, I was well qualified to pee in a cup. Unfortunately, my aim was no substitute for the results - I lost my pizza-delivery credentials.

I've proven competent at walking while I chant, especially if the lyrics start with "Hey, Hey, Ho, Ho..." and end in "Got-ta Go!" I'm pretty versatile with the middle two or three syllables. I'm also a splendid artist. I specialize in imposing swastikas over the face of Bush and matching the appropriately sized mustache and horns. With money I earned recycling pop can tops, I made a "No Blood For Oil!" printing-press in my parent's garage.

As they aren't home very much, I have plenty of time to practice being alone. I'm really good at it, better than anyone else I know. I usually talk to me but can't do it very long without starting an argument that I never seem to win. I guess you could say I'm naturally equipped to argue any of your talking points.

I shower only on the first Thursday of Leap Year and only my language is dirtier than my underpants. I have no problem showing off my tolerant superiority by using the terms "bigot, liar, war-monger, idiot, ignorant, neo-con" when faced with opposition who bases their argument in fact. I can also reliably hit a conservative from a distance of 3 feet with a pie 1/3 of the time, as long as I can do it under-handed. As for my sexual preference, yes, I prefer it. While I like her to have enough hair on her legs to cast a shadow, I have a more reasonable requirement for her armpits - the hair must be braided.

Like you, I fight convulsions when I see a cross, smell a Bible or hear "God" when it isn't followed by "Dammit." I support your lawyers by not making jokes about them when they push the imaginary "Separation of Church and State." Like the maverick judges, I'm so persuaded that I feel that even the Freedom From Religion Foundation should be disbanded for using the term "religion" in their name. I'll write them next. I suggest you hit the speed dial on your phone and warn them.

I admire your harassment of the Boy Scouts on the basis they don't allow Scout leaders to cross-dress. Suggesting the cross-dressers start an adult version of the Brownies is like a penguin humping a rock - it may feel good, but it won't be productive. I feel it's essential to bar an organization from public facilities that uses non-negotiable absolute standards based on the Bible to produce moral men, while you defend the constitutional right of lowlifes to teach other lowlifes how to hurt young boys.

Thank you for your consideration in finding me a redundant position in your ogranization. Although getting paid isn't a requirement, munchies can get expensive and my PHD - Papa's Hard-earned Dough - is running out. He seems to think I should be more responsible at 35 years old. I don't know what that loser is talking about, he's almost 70 and still living at home.

As you can clearly see, my abilities should put me in the top 1 or 3 percent of your organization, because the smartest ACLU employee is the one that just quit. If you determine that you won't hire me based strictly on my merits, I'll sue you for discrimination.

In closing, I'd like to thank you for giving inspiration to ganja jockeys all over the world. Just when we thought we could only become college professors, some of us are finding homes at the ACLU.

Best Regards,

Chachi

PS. I'll be posting our ongoing correspondence at www.spanktuary.blogspot.com

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