Finally, a concession speech

So Super Tuesday is but a speck of dust in the great dust bin in a sky of dusty old socks and floors that have dust on them, or something like that. Of course none of these non-candidates would be man enough to realize the time has come to call it a day. Not even Newt has figured out that he looks more ridiculous than usual, which is saying something because his regular job is apparently a clown with a traveling carnival in rural Georgia. Sad really.

Of course Ron Paul won’t quit, or maybe he has quit. It’s late, the trolls at Google are all resting, I’ll check in the morning.

Of course Rick Santorum won’t quit, that would mean returning home and getting back to raising all those children he has had because he just hates himself some of that darn tootin contraception he sure does.

If any of those three sober up before sunrise, they can feel free to borrow the following concession speech I have written just for any of them.

Here’s how it works, if you are Ron Paul, Newt Gingrich or Rick Santorum, just use the parts that work for you, you’ll figure out rest. You are all reasonably smart.

Concession speech – 2012

Thank you all for coming.

Today is not a sad day for me or my family. (Smile and wave to your assorted family members).

No, in fact, today is the beginning of a lot more family time. (applause).

We have decided that the time has come to leave the campaign. I am announcing that I am (pick one) going to preach the gospel, chase space aliens and smoke meth, marry wife number seven and develop condos on the moon – and I ask that all the supporters I have met these last few months to not give up hope.

Come November, please remember we need to stick together and vote (pick one) for Obama-fuck Romney, for Jesus-the world is ending, for me, dammit the country has no money, the wars are not going to be won, we don’t have a department of malnutrition, we should not have a place where people sing songs.

I sincerely want to thank the (pick one) pundits who spit on me with the venom reserved for child rapists, the nuns and clergy who let me and my family sleep in your rectory, that god damned pea brained monster man, that fellow right there makin’ faces at me like I can’t see him, but he’s there, right in front, no over there, like wings or something, humming bird like wings and there he goes – because without your support and friendship this campaign would have been (pick one) fun, heartbreaking, taco.

Thank you all. (wave and walk away with grace).