Change the Name of Arkansas
"Mr. Speaker. Mr. Speaker: For the
last half an hour, I've been trying to get the floor, and every time I
catch your eye, you wiggle and squirm like a mangy dog with a flea in
his ass.
"Maybe you don't know who I am. I'm Senator Johnson from
Johnson County, Arkansas, where we raise men who are men, and women who
are glad of it. Why down in Johnson county a man can't even stick
his ass out the window to take a good country shit without getting his
tail filled with buckshot. Down in Johnson county we raise girls
who, at the tender age of sixteen, can throw their left tit over their
right shoulder and wipe their ass with the nipple thereof, or squirt milk
up their asshole, as the occasion demands. When I was a boy at the
age of 14, I had a prick the size of a roasting ear, the pride of
Johnson County. Why I could piss halfway across the Ouachita
River. (The Speaker: Out of order. Out of order.)
You're Goddamned right it was out of order; if it hadn't been I could
have pissed clear across the son-of-a bitch.
"Now here is this narrow assed, long gutted, cross-eyed son of a
cross between a Missouri mule and a gorilla, who proposes that the name
of Arkansas be change to Ar-Kansas. Why, Mr. Speaker, to compare
the fair state of Arkansas to that of Kansas is to compare the light of
the noonday sun in all its brilliance to the feeble glow of a lightning
bug's ass; or to compare the sweet fragrance of an American Beauty rose
to the foul quintessence of a Mexican burro's fart. Why, to
compare the great state of Arkansas to that of Kansas is to compare the
puny penis of a Peruvian
"Yes, gentlemen, you may pluck the tail feather of the American
eagle. You may piss from the Washington monument. You may shit on
the White House steps, and wipe your ass on the Declaration of Independence.
Yes, you may even rape the Goddess of Liberty, but change the name of Arkansas,
NO. Not only no, but hellfire and damnation, no!
. Thanks! John Patrick.