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Globe: MA Voters Date Raped By Brown

From the august opinion page of the Boston Globe:

Swept off our feet

By Brian McGrory
Globe Columnist / January 20, 2010

I’m going to need some Advil and a cold compress, please. I’m the Massachusetts Electorate, and I have what is bar none the absolute worst hangover of my entire voting life.

Seriously, I was so drunk on power, so caught up in the moment, so free of any of my usual inhibitions, I can’t remember what’s gone on these last two weeks. Think, Electorate, think. What did I do?

This much I’m starting to remember. Martha and I walked into the party and everything seemed to be going fine. She wasn’t talking much, but she never really does, and she wasn’t exactly pushing me to bare my soul, either. That’s what I’ve always liked about Martha: She’s a low-maintenance politician.

And now I’m vaguely recalling that stranger across the room, the one in the barn jacket who kept smiling at me and seemed to know my name. Martha vanished for a while, and – is it bad that I’m saying this? – I didn’t really care.

Suddenly, that tall, handsome man was standing at my side doing something that Martha rarely did – offering to pay for drinks, chatting me up, curious what was on my mind.

Every time I ever tried telling Martha about my day, my hopes, my dreams, she shushed me and said she was preparing a legal brief or watching “Law & Order.’’ And now there’s a stranger telling me he could change my entire world.

Scott! That was his name. Lived near the outlet stores. Talked a lot about being smarter with money. I know, not like Martha, who always had some expensive home renovation project up her sleeve.

And then, I remember that time itself seemed to stop. The mundanity [sic] of everyday events gave way to the exhilaration of my suddenly unpredictable existence. No more Martha taking me for granted. No more Martha calling all the shots. I was living the moment, immersed in the life I always wanted before caution overwhelmed desire.

We were on the dance floor, Scott and I, moving to the music, his hands all over my body politic. Everyone was watching, and I mean everyone – fellow partygoers, bartenders, passersby staring in the windows. Look at me, the Massachusetts Electorate, the bellwether of America!

I think I took my shirt off. I think I didn’t care. I remember something about Scott in a pair of Calvin Klein jockey shorts, but it may have been a picture he showed me from his wallet.

Out of nowhere, there were video cameras filming us from every angle. Analysts were describing the events. Scott’s important friends were texting and calling my cell. Get this: Curt Schilling, talking to a regular old Electorate like me.

Then, above the din and the music and the cheering, I distinctly heard someone ask, “How’s Martha going to feel about this?’’

And just like that, there she was, back at the bar, giving me that aloof prosecutorial look I knew all too well. I went back to her, sweaty and out of breath. Amazingly, she didn’t seem angry. She didn’t really show any emotion at all. She just pretended like nothing ever happened and tried to continue on.

Oh, but something did happen. I knew it, she knew it, and so did Scott, who was still beckoning from the other end of the bar, asking me to take a walk outside. And now it’s coming clear: I did.

He was talking nonstop, but I noticed he was repeating himself over and over again – 41st vote, and drawing boards, and being a “Scott Brown Republican.’’ He was starting to lose me until we were standing in front of a GMC pickup and he said, “This is my truck.’’

Oh, you bad boy. You bad, bad boy.

I remember catching my breath. I remember pulling a curtain shut. I remember having to make a really important choice.

I needed to send a message. I don’t know much about Scott, and I have no idea how long he’ll be in my life, but I do know that nobody will ever take me for granted again.

This is unreal. And (as the kids say, despite their schools’ best efforts) so geh.

And yes, we double checked. Mr. McGrory is purported to be a male.

But, really, how hilarious — even by the Boston Globe’s standards.

This article was posted by Steve on Wednesday, January 20th, 2010. Comments are currently closed.

9 Responses to “Globe: MA Voters Date Raped By Brown”

  1. NoNeoCommies says:

    After being abused for most of his life by Socialist Liberals that alternately abused and serenaded him, McGrory couldn’t deal with an honest Suiter.

  2. Reality Bytes says:

    Do I sense a certain “sexual tension” with Brian towards Mr. Brown?!

  3. tranquil.night says:

    22 million are either laughing or quietly asking themselves ‘wtf’ right now.

  4. proreason says:

    Just guessing…..could Brian be gay?

  5. canary says:

    Martha’s thanked Ted’s widow for quote “channeling” dead Ted from the grave to her, and said at least her 2 dogs would be happy. What is this with Hilary in Africa saying she couldn’t channel Bill Clinton who is still alive.

    I also did not get Gibb’s press conference today. I caught about 10 minutes and aside long pauses all he said was “uh” and with the exception of a few words. They were questioning Obama’s statement he was angry & frusterated, and “scaling back” on health care. Gibbs kept saying “we” this, “we are saying” and the reporter grilling him pointed out Gibbs didn’t say it, Obama said it, lot’s of giggling, and Gibbs continued “we, uh uh uuuhhh………..”

    I can’t believe Obama told Massachusetts to forget about Brown’s truck, anyone can buy a truck. Yeah right, people can’t even buy toy cars these days.

    I’m a bit lost. I want to know what Ted channeled from the dead that Martha was thankful for, and the names of the dogs? Canine’s? or blue dogs? I do think Brown’s election is poetic justice.

    • canary says:

      Obama’s 15,000 thousand dollar peanuts, after failed two 700 something Boeing jets to Copenhagen to solicit Olympics 2013.

    • tranquil.night says:

      Now I know you wouldn’t be suggesting any possible link between the Kennedy name and the occult. coughcough. Maybe Marcia’s loss turned out to all be part of the grand plan.

      The truck rant was absurd and I’m sure completely Freudian. Again, I think the cocaine history comes back to haunt him here. Clinton had a silver tongue when he lied; Bam’s lies are the only thing transparent about his administration.

      That Gibbs press conference had to be one of the funniest things I’d watched in a while.

  6. MinnesotaRush says:

    Sounds like ol’ Brian’s been threw this frequently. Thought he was just a media whore. Just sayin’, ya’ know.

  7. joeblough says:

    I think I have to go wash my glasses now.


    Although it may be that Mr. Brown is so normal compared to the common run of cheese-bags, sissy-boys, thugs and pervo-sexuals that infest politics that he’s giving the more susceptible writers thrills up their legs.

    You know, sort of like Cris Matthews got from Obama — only inspired by normal maleness rather than star appeal or, who knows, maybe Obama’s light skin and lack of negro dialect.

    May the powers of heaven guard Mr. Scott’s integrity in the DC snake pit.

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