First let me start by saying that Obama is toast. He’ll never win the election. Also, I’ve accepted George W. Bush as my personal savior. He’s just misunderstood.
But I digress. This post is about the speakers race. And by that I mean the speakers race that Craddick cannot possibly lose. Unless he fails to win.
You see, unless you’re me, The Great Paul Burpa, you really have no understanding of anything. Lucky for you, I’m here to explain it to you. You and those damn kid bloggers.
It’s very simple really. Listen carefully. Tom Craddick is the speaker right now.
However, if you take Jim Pitts, and subtract him from the square root of the sum of Edmund Kuempel, Brian McCall, and Senfronia Thompson; then add Burt Solomons, Byron Cook, Delwin Jones, Tommy Merritt, and Jim Dunnam; you have a winning combination.
Unless you don’t, which then means it’s Thursday, and/or you’re in the Mountain Central Time zone, in which case you would subtract Delwin Jones from the total, and instead add in half of the sum of Terry Keel, Kelly Fero, and that lobbyist dude who always stands outside the House floor but who never seems to have any clients. No, wait, you still don’t yet have 76 votes. Unless you do.
What you end up with in this case is a cross between Glen Maxey the time he argued in favor of everybody voting for the resolution picking on gay people somehow, and Debra Danburg and Warren Chisum the time they debated anal sex on the House floor for an hour. Not that either has anything to do with a speaker’s race, but both cases, plus the occassional Garnet Coleman ass-kicking of some random Republican (immediately denied by all involved, to all who witnessed it), represent the rare fully-awake moments I’ve experienced on the House floor for the last 20 years.
But back to the speaker’s race, and the uncanny ability of me, The Great Paul Burpa, to explain it to you. Unless I can’t.
So essentially, if you do the above-described math, it is clear that there is going to indeed be a winner. And there you have it.
What, you thought I’d tell you who the winner would be? Are you nuts? Why would you think I, The Great Paul Burpa, cover breaking political news while perched on top of a monthly travel magazine? So I can tell the likes o’ you? Think again bucko.
Oh no, I shall instead merely inform you that I know exactly what will happen. And you would know too, if you were as smart as The Great Paul Burpa. Rest assured that I will be explaining in depth after it is all over the precise reason it happened, and that I knew all along that the outcome was inevitable. Unless I don’t.
I’m pleased to have clarified the situation for you. Stay tuned next week when I, The Great Paul Burpa, will explain the precise reasoning behind my theory that Harvey Kronberg can kiss my ass. Unless he can’t.