Good evening, America. And by “America” I mean suburban undecided women in swing states. My name is Katie Britt, and I have the honor of serving the great state of Alabama in the United States Senate in the universe God created in six days, devoting the seventh to scrapbooking.
However, my elected office isn’t the job that matters most. I am a proud wife and mom of two school age kids: my daughter Bennett, named for the guy who sold me my first AR-15, and my son Ridgeway, named for our fully redlined subdivision. They are why I ran for the Senate. That and being rejected by Amway.
Like so many families across America, my husband Wesley and I just watched President Biden’s State of the Union address on our living room couch, beneath an Olin Mills portrait of us sitting on a couch. And what we saw was the performance of a permanent politician who has actually been in office for longer than I’ve been alive. By contrast, I am not a permanent politician. I’m a creepy Stepford wife entrusted by Alabama voters to somehow make our special-needs senior Senator, Tommy Tuberville, seem less like a Grand Dragon.
Guys, President Biden just doesn’t get it. Under his administration, families are worse off, our communities are less safe, and our country is less secure. Sure, I know, you say “the economic and crime data show the exact opposite,” but you don’t know life in Alabama, where the state animal is the tufted pinworm. I just wish our out-of-touch president understood what real families are facing around kitchen tables just like this one. You know, this is where our family has tough conversations. Like about s*x, campaign donations, veneers and the Jews.
It’s where we make hard decisions, like not to report Pastor Kyle. It’s where we laugh together, hold each other’s hands to pray for God’s guidance, and many nights where Wesley and I worry about the future of our nation.
The country we know and love seems to be slipping away, and it feels like the next generation will have fewer opportunities and less freedoms than we did. The freedom to pour old motor oil down the storm sewer. The freedom to work and play and share a meal without the colored loitering around. The freedom to drive drunk and beat up fags.
What happened to the American dream? My American dream allowed me, the daughter of two small business owners from rural Enterprise, Alabama, to be elected to the United States Senate at the age of 40. Growing up sweeping the floor at my dad’s hardware store, cleaning the bathroom at my mom’s dance studio and huffing Rust-Oleum behind the middle school gym, I never could have imagined what my story would entail. Like getting to be on the TV. And so, so much inappropriate touching.
Our country can do better. We could all benefit from clean air and clean water and lower taxes and improved education and streets and schools free of dangerous guns, but Joe Biden, like Barack Hussein Obama before him, is too old and weak to push those policies past the obstructions of the opposing party in Congress. Why? Because we have our hands full trying to impeach the entire Biden Administration on the grounds of “Democrat.”
And you don’t have to look any further than the crisis at our southern border to see it. It’s an invasion of desperate people escaping poverty and gang violence, determined to destroy our society by infiltrating the landscaping, roofing and waste management industries — taking jobs from countless Americans who want no part of landscaping, roofing or waste management. Yet minutes after taking office. President Biden made “La Bamba” our national anthem.
As patriotic Americans, we should pay no attention to violent insurrections, threats to democracy, presidential felony indictments, the destruction of our planet and grade-schoolers being mowed down in classrooms by automatic weapons. Instead we should focus solely on the southern border. Biden fiddles while Gregg Abbott burns.
When I took office, I took a different approach. I traveled to the border, where I personally spoke to a woman named Andrea Castañón Villanueva, survivor of a vicious San Antonio gun battle between Mexican invaders and American patriots. Andrea was under fire for days and miraculously escaped to share her story with me. She told me about the ruthless assault on a garrison called the Alamo, and Joe Biden’s refusal to intervene. As the heroic soldiers died one by one, he couldn’t even bother to visit Texas. I ask you … is this America? No, it actually happened in the Mexican colony called “Texas” in 1836, early in Biden’s political career. But don’t let liberal elites confuse you with technicalities, like history, or time and space. The sad fact is, President Biden’s border policies are a disgrace.
I’m reminded, too, of a young woman named Tamar, and a predator called Amnon, who said, “Come, lie with me, my sister.” She answered him, “No, my brother, do not violate me, for such a thing is not done in Israel; do not do this outrageous thing. As for me, where could I carry my shame? And as for you, you would be as one of the outrageous fools in Israel. Now therefore, please speak to the king, for he will not withhold me from you.” But he would not listen to her, and being stronger than she, he violated her and lay with her.
Hand on the Bible, that is verbatim.
Mr. President, enough is enough. Innocent Americans and most-likely mythical biblical Israelites are suffering, and you only have yourself to blame. Sadly, we know that the President’s failures don’t stop there. His reckless spending dug our economy into a hole and sent the cost of living through the roof. He will offer excuses: “Global pandemic. Millions upon millions dead. Economies shut down worldwide.” He will say the spike in inflation has been drastically reduced. That the economy and stock market are booming and job creation is the highest in decades. He’ll say that the infrastructure programs his predecessor annually promised the Biden Administration has delivered. He will say, “It’s time billionaires and corporations pay their fair share.”
Goodness, y’all. Bless his heart. We know better. I’ll never forget stopping at a gas station in Chilton County one evening. The gentleman working the counter told me that after retiring he had to pick up a job in his 70s so that he didn’t have to choose between going hungry or going without his medication. I said to him, “Fuck off, you doddering parasite. We’re gonna cut your Medicare! Whaddya think of that, oldtard?”
And unfortunately, President Biden’s weakness isn’t just hurting families here at home. I am about to speak three sentences utterly without irony, and oblivious to the actual individual they conjure, perhaps explaining the weird fake grin:
He is making us a punchline on the world stage. Look, where I’m from, your word is your bond. But for three years, the president has demonstrated that America’s word doesn’t mean what it used to.
We’ve become a nation in retreat. And the enemies of freedom, they see an opportunity. Putin’s brutal aggression in Europe has put our allies on the brink. We don’t need a commander and chief who “listens,” and “studies” and “reads.” We need a president strong enough to abandon NATO and Fan Boy strutting mass murderers.
Golly, just ask yourself: are you better off now than you were three years ago? Don’t answer that, please. DO NOT ANSWER THAT.
Together, we can reawaken the heroic spirit of a great nation because — and excuse me if my voice goes a little screechy here while I show you all of my teeth — Hunter Biden’s laptop. America, we don’t just have a rendezvous with destiny, we take destiny’s hand and we lead it. Our future starts around kitchen tables just like this. I hope you like the refrigerator. We bought it with the money we’d saved up for IVF.
May God bless you, and may God continue to bless the United States of America.
Spot-on!
Good stuff, Bob!