Cotton Mouth Snake

Thursday Thrashing Letter #13

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5-3-18

Senator Tom Cotton

124 Russell Senate Office Building

Washington, DC 20510

Dear Senator Cotton,

I don't have much love for United States Senators. 

Particularly the ones of the Republican variety. I find them spineless. Shifty. And unbelievably protective of a billionaire president who literally has our nation circling the drain.

That is why I have made it my mission to reach out and send a hand written letter to all you ass-bananas. I don't think it's going to do any good. But the 20,000 readers who visit my blog every month seem to enjoy it. And they share it with friends and family. So who knows, maybe there's something to this public humiliation.

Of course, you have made any additional humiliation superfluous. In my book and in the book of millions of Americans you traded in the honor of wearing a United States service uniform for a scarlet letter that shall hang around your neck for all of eternity.

Your letter shall be B, as in Bitch. 

As in Donald Trump's Servile Bitch. 

As in worthless, lying, cowering Son of A Bitch who will stammer and shame himself in front of a TV camera in order to win Daddy Longtie's approval. 

I think you know what I'm talking about. 

And if not, I'm sure the Prime Minister from Nigeria, currently visiting on a diplomatic mission, will remind you of the time that you stood before the nation and claimed the president did not refer to Africa as a bunch of "Shithole Countries."

He said it. You know he said it. Senator Dick Durbin said he said it. In not so many words, your fellow invertebrate colleague Senator Graham said that what Dick Durbin said the president said was said. And now, just this week former White House Senior Advisor (I can't believe I'm referring to her this way) Omarossa Manigault said he said it.

The president denies all this. 

Of course he also told us he wouldn't be playing golf. And that 5 million illegal voters cast their ballots for Hillary. And that Mexico was going to pay for a big, beautiful wall. Hell, he's told more than 3000 lies. I'd list them all but then the ink cartridge on my Canon 490 MX Series printer would run dry and I'd have to run to Office Max. 

Frankly, I'd prefer to remain here and taunt your sorry ass.

I don't know when you come up for re-election. But I do know my disdain for you and your highly punchable face knows no bounds. And no time limits. So I'll be generously tapping into my daughter's inheritance money to fund your opponent, sorry girls.

I don't even know who that opponent might be. But given your embarrassing servitude, your public displays of presidential toadying, and your partial residence in the presidential rectum, I think your constituents would be better served by a rotting, maggot-infested armadillo carcass.

Best,

Rich Siegel

siegelrich@mac.com

Culver City, CA