Tea-Party Movement
Believe it or not, I recently became bored while sitting around watching television. This shocked me because my philosophy has always been that when you’re tired of television and junk food, you’re tired of life. Nonetheless, I was bored.
My boredom was disconcerting and I was perplexed about what to do to overcome it. Then, the other day, I found what I thought might be an answer.
While having a bowel movement, I read a newspaper article that I downloaded off the Web. That’s not what relieved my boredom. (Although the bowel movement did relieve me.)
It is not surprising that I read the article while having a bowel movement. That’s the only time I read. I sometimes get badly constipated and won’t read anything for a few days. Fortunately, I make up for it when I have diarrhea. But I digress.
It’s what I read in the article that gave me an idea as to how to relieve my ennui. According to the article, tea parties are now all the rage in the United States.
This surprised me because tea parties struck me as a very Victorian sort of social gathering, but I thought, what the heck? It’s worth a try.
I called up a few of my friends and asked them to join me. They were flabbergasted and furious when I told them that I didn’t plan to serve anything stronger than tea, but they humored me after I told them that tea parties had become de rigueur in America.
When I said those words, I was a little concerned about whether the “de rigueur in America” argument would work. I seriously doubt that any of my friends have any idea what de rigueur means. However, people here are impressed when you throw in a little French, even if it’s meaningless to them. If they’re a member of the opposite sex, or of the same sex and so inclined, they’re even more impressed if you French kiss them.
Because I’m a slow reader and I never read any more than I can finish during my crap, I didn’t get much information about the American tea parties from the article. And, being a Shalampaxian, I was too lazy to investigate any further. But, as far as I understood them, I think I followed the American tea-party format fairly closely.
The picture accompanying the article I read showed people praying at the start of their tea party. This seemed bizarre to me, but I didn’t want to spoil the experience by deviating from the prescribed tea-party formula.
We prayed to Paahlm, our God, and then had a cup of tea. Despite our praying, the tea tasted the same to me as tea has always tasted whenever I’ve made it.
Then I remembered reading that most of the people in the American tea-party movement are white Christians. I figured that must be the problem. We’re white, so we had that part covered, but we were praying to Paahlm, not the Christian God. To correct that error we prayed again, this time to the Christian God rather than Paahlm, and had another cup of tea. Again, the flavor of the tea had not altered in the least from its usual Orange Pekoeness.
We tried once more. This time we prayed to the Christian God’s only son, Jesus Christ, and drank yet another cup of tea. There was still no noticeable effect.
I decided that maybe it wasn’t about the tea at all. I suggested that we try another element in the American tea-party ritual, but, after drinking all of that tea, we needed to take a bathroom break first.
After finishing peeing, I told my friends that there tends to be a lot of talking at these tea parties and maybe we should utter some of the same words that the people there utter.
As I understand it, the people at the American tea parties chant things like, “I’ve got mine and the rest of you can screw off.” As best I can tell, “the rest of you” refers to anyone who can’t afford to come to the tea party. I’m not sure what the “mine” refers to, but I think it’s something more substantial than tea.
My guests included a few very rich leaders of our spam and cult religion companies. They had no problem with the chant as it is already their core personal philosophy. However, the chant stuck in my throat because I don’t yet have mine—whatever that may be—and, despite knocking myself out writing for this lousy blog, I just barely make ends meet.
I should note that I had tried, but failed, to inject even more American flavor into my tea party. I invited Sarah Palin to come. I heard she’s a much sought after tea-party guest in the United States, but she didn’t respond to my invitation.
Sarah Palin was probably too busy moose-hunting to come to a tea party in Shalampax. Either that or the fact that we usually eat foreigners who come here might have frightened her off. Just to be clear, when I say “eat foreigners” I mean that in the cannibalism sense, not the street vernacular oral sex sense. You might find this hard to believe, but our cannibalism often causes any foreigners who lack courage and a sense of adventure to avoid our island.
