My opponent is a slime-covered, flea-bitten dog of a man, and that ain't fair to dogs

By M. Scott Morris/NEMS Daily Journal

My opponent is a slime-covered, flea-bitten dog of a man, and that ain’t fair to dogs. It pains me, friends, that someone as lowdown and loathsome as the other party’s candidate would have the nerve to ask for your precious vote. I know he’ll take that vote and give it to his cigar-chomping cronies in their smoky back rooms. Who knows what they’ll do with it?
I’ll tell you one thing, and this is the Truth with a capital “T”: He wants to transform this country into a hateful, twisted place where success is history and charity is a fairy tale.
My opponent and the stinking rats who do his grunt work think you can’t figure out their game. They think all they have to do is keep telling you bad things about me, and you’ll forget about the history report he wrote about Adolf Hitler in seventh grade. The Fampührer, himself, my friends.
By calling me names, he thinks he can divert attention away from his vile nature and – let’s be honest – his less-than-righteous understanding of God Almighty.
My fellow Americans, you and I know the only way forward is forward, but that simple logic is too much for my opponent and his lackeys to comprehend. They’d have you believe that chasing around in circles after our own tails is a good thing.
Again, no offense is meant toward our canine companions. Dog spelled backward is God, and you know my reverence for both. And cats are cats. I think you get my meaning there, dear friends.
We’ve run numerous television ads across this great nation exposing the taint smeared on every dollar my opponent has collected from his deluded supporters.
My favorite 30-second spot has that cute little blonde girl in the pink dress – Yeah, you know the one – as she’s attacked by terrorists from the Middle East and Mexico.
Of course, the funny-talking terrorists represent my opponent and his un-American horde, and you, my friends, are the little girl in the pink dress.
A vote for me is a vote for your own virtue, my friends. You can count on me to stand tall and strong between you and all the bad things out there.
You certainly can’t count on my opponent. In addition to being against everything this country stands for, he’s got all the manners of a monkey in a warehouse full of overripe bananas. And I don’t have to spell out what he’s really doing with those bananas.
My friends, this is the most important election in the history of mankind. The economy and our very survival as a people hang in the balance. Don’t let my flamethrowing opponent crush all life on earth. Say “yes” to humanity and “no” to those who stand in its noble way.
In closing, you know me, friends. I’m a great guy with a long string of accomplishments. I’ll make life better than you ever imagined.
And my opponent is a jerkface.
M. Scott Morris is a Daily Journal feature writer. Contact him at (662) 678-1589 or

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