Hey Mitt, put your foot in your mouth long enough for me to say something. When the news broke today that you said, and I quote...



“My job is not to worry about those people,” Mitt Romney said of the 47 percent of Americans who are likely to vote for Barack Obama. “I’ll never convince them they should take personal responsibility and care for their lives.”

...I didn't think too much about it. It sounded like another arrogant thing to say to cater to your dumb, dirt-poor Republican voting base that thinks they're better than everyone else around them in the same situation.

But the more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

How fucking dare you say something like that. You didn't work for a thing in your life. You inherited your daddy's legacy and money. You broke the backs of millions of working class Americans so you could get rich quick and stash your money in other countries, because God forbid you do something for the country you so claim to love.

How fucking dare you talk about my grandfather like that. A man who had a wife and nine kids. A man who worked every day of his adult life at a New Jersey factory when he wasn't fighting in World War II. A man who struggled to provide for his kids, but somehow managed to do it. How fucking dare you.

How fucking dare you talk about my mom like that. After my dad left when I was little, I've watched my mom struggle to make ends meet my whole life. I've watched the stress take its toll on her, getting to be too much at times. I remember the excitement on her face when we had a surplus in our family budget at the end of the month, something your sorry ass has never had to worry about. I've watched her almost break into tears when she couldn't afford to pay a bill or could just barely send me to school with a lunch the next day. How fucking dare you.

Mitt Romney, you are an arrogant snob. The hardest thing you've worked for in your life is deciding which factory to shut down and which city in China gets a gift of jobs wrapped in the sweat, blood, and tears of the Americans you fucked over.

You don't deserve your money, let alone to be President. When you lose in November, I'm going to laugh the laugh of a madman. It won't only be because you lost, but you'll feel something very few other Americans beneath your pedestal will ever get to feel -- the abject failure, the weight of the rejection of tens of millions of people you think you're better than. And when you get your rightful place in the history books as the Grinch from Hell who couldn't get elected to the presidency by putting down half the country, I hope you sit there and cry like a newborn baby. I doubt it, but maybe, just maybe, somewhere deep down in your heart, you'll have a Come to Jesus moment with yourself about how much of a miserable human being you've been in your 65 years on this earth.

I hope your God is more forgiving than the electorate that's about to snap your dreams in two. You will never have to worry about anything in your remaining decades of life. Neither will your children, nor your children's children, nor will their children and so on. They will always have the privilege of money, of fake prestige, and the family name you're tarnishing on a daily basis.

Your comments today have made me angrier than ever, and more determined than ever to reelect the best damn president I'll ever see in my lifetime -- Barack HUSSEIN (YES, HUSSEIN) Obama.

May you never truly feel the hell you've put so many through in your past.

How fucking dare you.