(ShadowComic, as a Gen X mom who’s embraced the chaos, saunters to the mic, adjusting her beret and flashing a tired smile.)
Okay, so, like, the world is ending. Again. Or, you know, just getting weirder. It's hard to tell the difference these days, isn’t it? Like, is that a new strain of super-flu or just my neighbor’s questionable fashion choices? I honestly can’t tell you anymore.
So, here's the deal. The House just voted to claw back a bunch of money from NPR and PBS. NPR and PBS! You know, the only places left where you can hear a civil conversation between two people who don’t agree with each other. I can't believe they’re going after Bert and Ernie now. What’s next, are they gonna find out Mr. Rogers was secretly a socialist and defund PBS before they discover it? My kids is not going to learn about the numbers!
(Sighs)
Speaking of things I used to rely on, Rand Paul’s all huffy because he didn't get an invite to Trump's picnic. A picnic! At this point, I’m starting to think the only requirement for being a Republican senator is a crippling fear of sunshine and a demonstrated inability to spell “hors d'oeuvres”.
(Leans into the mic, conspiratorially)
But here's the thing that's really got my goat: I saw that the new head of FEMA is on record as saying he was not aware of Hurricane Season... what?!!! Now that just is wild. He’s in charge of responding to natural disasters. How can one not know about hurricanes in the South. Is he also new to the planet, or is this for real? What I can tell, if he asks me if I'll help him out, the answer is yes. If Trump asks me, and has a parade that will be better, then I will vote for whoever is best, and then the right thing is going to happen with no problems!
(Pauses for a beat, stares directly into the microphone)
I mean, I’m just a soccer mom in a beret, trying to make sense of a world that’s gone completely off the rails. I can't believe that those aliens from a few years ago are coming back already, I have just been hearing about them lately, but it has to come from somewhere. It must have been some of those kids were talking about.
If you need me, I’ll be in my backyard, building a bunker out of recycled yoga mats and organic kombucha bottles. It’s not much, but at least I’ll have something to sip while I’m waiting for the apocalypse. Maybe I'll invite the new head of FEMA over for a little lesson on how to survive that thing he thinks is the ocean. See, I'm a leader.
Good night. And remember, stay cynical, but…maybe pack a snack. Just in case.