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In the best tradition of the privileged and  entitled, Paulie “lyin’ Ryan stopped in at a local soup kitchen. He hoped you all would notice. He made sure to wait for the media to get along with the cameras and such just in case they feel the need to show Merika what a fine and compassionate dude our Paulie really was.

Problem was that Paulie waited so long for the media types to git there, that all those creepy icky, sometimes smelly poor people had already been served and headed out mostly. So Paulie, said, “shucks, I didn’t know they ate at noon! We usually have cocktails at 1 and a Cobb salad (hold the ham, hold the cheese) at 1:30. But I can wash some dishes! Oh, all washed? Well dang, well no one will ever know, give me a pan and washing thingie and let’s get those pictures!”

I few minutes later, Paulie was seen directing his handlers to a guy walking slowly down the hallway. “Hey, he looks like a homeless man, that jacket is definitely not this season’s Ralph Lauren!” Whereupon the gentleman was stopped and urged to come talk to the next Vice President. “Vice President of what?” the man growled.

Whereupon Paulie, strode up careful to not touch anything that might be infested with crawling insects, and said,

“Hey dude, how’s it going? I’m Paul Ryan,  running mate of Mitt Romney!”

“Huh, Gloves? I don’t need no gloves, not yet anyhow. Still pretty warm. Hey what’s with all the lights? I know my rights, are you the police? I want a lawyer.”

“Nobody here to arrest you my good man. Can you tell me what it’s like to not have your own bed to sleep in? Are you cold at night? Must be hard to keep up with episodes of Masterpiece Theatre huh? Do they have big screens in the shelter?”

“Ya got a buck man? I could use a smoke?”

“Smoke? No. Bad for your health man. Do you work out? I work out. You probably saw the pictures of me, pretty buff don’t you think?”

“Well a buck then for some coffee? Anything will help.”

“Oh sorry man, I don’t carry money with me. Why do you need money? The shelter has a bed for ya, and this kitchen feeds ya. I mean what else do you  need. Oh, wait, I can see by the look of them teeth, that you could probably use a new toothbrush–where do you keep it dude? in your pocket?”

“Are you nuts? Get away from me you fucker, and take your damn lights. Who are all those guys standing there with microphones? “HEY, what you lookin’ at?”

“Whoa, easy now guy. Well nice talking to you. I feel your pain and all that. Vote Romney, Ryan!”

That was the conversation you didn’t hear, because Paulie’s handlers kinda knew it would go about as it went. But hey the media saw him actually speaking conversationally with a bona fide poor person. And he washed a pot in a bona fide soup kitchen. Mission accomplished!

It’s all about appearances ya know. It’s only about appearances.

My dirty pots are waitin’ for ya Paulie. I also got some doggy poo in the back yard that needs picking up.

 

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