Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities

Fit to be tied by unproofed political mailer

link Wendel Sloan

Local columnist

One political candidate tells me in a mailer his allegiance is to the “Untied” States of America, while his opponent has no allegiance.

If such un-proofed poppycock leaves you fit to be tied, or other races between the cash-flush and the cash-strapped seem cash-ordained, I selflessly offer myself as a write-in candidate.

Actually, “selflessly” is disingenuous since a big salary and perks are enticing.

Post-inauguration, I will private-jet to a Dallas Cowboys game to recruit snake-oil salesmen.

A luxury box will be essential for presenting a first-class image of New Mexico as an enchanting workforce of minimum-wage maids, chili-pickers and fry cooks from both sides of the border.

For those hot-under-the-blue-collar about jobs being taken from real Americans (not the Washington Redskins kind), my first act will be the “Right-to-Work in Back-Breaking Minimum-Wage Jobs for Never-Served Patriots Who Didn’t Have to Swim to Get Here Act.”

Citizens steaming about jobs being expropriated by non-citizens can audition during a 12-hour shift. If they don’t quit before lunch — or siesta too much to rest blistered extremities — their boss will have to retain them.

My second act will be creation of a government watchdog. Chosen by and answerable only to media, they will chase down requested records involving taxpayer waste.

They will also fact-check campaign ads featuring foreboding music and unflattering photos of opponents.

My third act will allow invocations before public meetings — including city council and county commission revivals — alternating between keynoters from Christianism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Islamism, Scienceism, Almighty Buckism, Absurdism and other schism-causing-isms.

My fourth act will allow concealed-carry of medical marijuana for non-ideologues ducking daily quacking about guns, manliness and apple pie.

I can’t promise a chicken in every pot, but I will promise taxed pot that will make minimum-wage chicken taste finger-lickin’ good.

Celebrating my victory with bottle-rockets’ red glare instead of bombs bursting in air, we will chill in a united state of smoking the peace pipe together.

Contact Wendel Sloan at:

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