“Huff in Here” by Arianna Huffington
I know what you are thinking. My creepy accent sounds downright un-American, my husband tried to buy a Senatorial election, my political commentary is not only poorly spoken, but well off the mark, and my reputation as a social and political pundit is overrated.
But come on, Compton, throw ya hands up.
I want to be your Governor. I have enough money in the bank to give every one who votes for me $10. Come on, in this economy that could by you 10 rounds for your piece, if you walk around strapped. It could by you some bling for your baby’s mama. Or even go toward the purchase of a phat throwback for your fine self.
Surely, you see the merits of voting for a white Republican woman who hasn’t known a day of hardship in her trite, meaningless life. What’s up now, Artesia Blvd?
And sure, while there were riots going on, I was holed up in my bulletproof underground bunker, safe and out of harm’s way. But that doesn’t mean that I’ll do the same if it happens again. I might go to my mountain home.
Here’s something else to think about Compton. Here’s how much I love you. My two Shih-Tzus are named Florence and Normandie. Would I name my pampered rich-person dogs after your city if I didn’t love you? Answer me that.
Like my friend 2pac says, “Shake it Cali. Shake it shake it baby. Shake it shake it shake it shake it… Sacramento, sacramento, where ya at? Yeah, throw it up y’all, throw it up, throw it up. Let’s show these fools how we do this on that west side. Cause you and I know it’s tha best side. Yeah, that’s riiight, West Coast, West Coast … uh, California Love … California Love …”
Thank you, Compton. Vote early, vote often! Ha, ha. Good night.