Divine Advice For Mitt Romney

Dear DA,

Maybe you pulled some kind of double-reverse Pinnochio on me, but for the last week or so, I’ve been compelled to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and voting to impeach that knock-kneed babushka was just the beginning.

Some people are suddenly under the impression that I’m a “good person,” and that’s just not true. This is hardly surprising to my “friends” and “family,” they’ve known for decades that I’m as rapacious and bloodthirsty as the terrifying bird who symbolizes this once great country. What disappoints them is that I’m just as wooden and dull as I’ve always appeared to be. There is no great intellect or perversion lurking within unless you count my sexual incontinence.

I must be the only person in America who isn’t a pervert. I was about to write “man,” but my newfound honesty compels me to acknowledge that women are probably perverts, too. I write “America” rather than “the world” because I’ve never really been outside of America. I’m afraid to leave my mansion in Utah because an immigrant might touch me and turn me into a maid. I know that this is ignorant and shameful, but it’s how I feel and what I believe.

It saddens me that I’m now perceived as being close to a hero. If saying something that should have been obvious to a four-year-old is all it takes to be a hero nowadays, the leaders of this once great nation, myself included, should be held accountable, so we’re probably going to blame the gays.

The sad fact of the matter is that Americans are morons. It’s damn near impossible to be an honest anything in this country, especially a politician, because these people literally demand that you lie. I’m not a smart man and I don’t know what love is, but these people are just flabbergasting, even to me.

I guess I should thank you for ending my career. I look forward to drinking lemonade before 8 p.m. and square dancing with my children.

Mitt Romney

Dear Mitt,

What the heck kind of a name is “Mitt?” Anyway…

With all that sci-fi bullshit about everyone getting their own planet when they die, Mormons are just boring versions of Scientologists. That means if you want to get your career back on track, you’ll have to jump up and down like an orangutan on Oprah’s couch. Well, that’s the first step anyway. Initially, this will just cause people to hate you even more, but it’ll make your eventual return to glory that much more glorious.

After the couch thing, take a step back from the limelight for a while and stick to making forgettable movies and ill-informed public statements about psychiatry. Well, not those two things exactly, but the politician equivalent, which I guess would be doing a conservative podcast and making ill-informed statements about climate change. After a few years go by, make a scene-stealing cameo in an edgy satirical comedy where you more or less humiliate yourself for big laughs à la the Less Grossman character in Tropic Thunder. Critics will call your performance “brave” and “transformational,” especially if you drop a bunch of “F” bombs. The politician equivalent would be to align yourself with AOC and the rest of The Squad on some social issue that the GOP usually dismisses. Not abortion, of course—that would be too much of a stretch. Something like, I don’t know…sensible gun control laws? Criminal justice reform, maybe? Oh! You know what would really knock people on their asses? If you, a life-long Mormon, supported the legalization of marijuana.

The last step is to go back to your bread and butter—over-the-top sequels to movies people didn’t realize they needed more of. Risk your life doing stunts that normally kill a guy half your age so people realize just how committed you are to entertaining them. The political equivalent is to revive the old conservative talking points about the economy such as “fiscal responsibility” and “reducing the national debt,” all the while tearing down any GOP rivals who talk a big game but then want to drop several trillion on something as moronic as a space force.

—Jesus Christ

Dear Romney,

Your asshole is by far cleanest asshole I’ve ever eaten out and then pounded to smithereens with my 12-inch barbed dick. The real miracle is that it somehow remained spotless even after all that eating and pounding. What in Satan’s red hell is your secret?

I’ve heard some people get Liquid Plumber enemas, but that seems dangerous, and as a Mormon, I would think you’d be against that sort of thing. Are you using some wizard incantation—some magical ass-cleaning spell you found written on an ancient scroll? That’s probably against the rules, too.

Is it just clean living? Is it just the lack of drugs, alcohol, and trick-or-treating? Because I gotta say, I’ve eaten-then-pounded Prince’s asshole (both recently and while he was alive) and even his wasn’t as spotless as yours. I always thought Jehovah’s Witnesses were even more particular about their hygiene than Mormons, but I guess I was wrong. Anyway, I look forward to eating out and then pounding your immaculate asshole again really soon.


Have an uncomfortable question? Need some advice about your deviant behavior? If so, then it’s time to pray. Email your question to ryan@skullislandtimes.com, and it shall be answered in a Divine Advice column by Jesus and Satan.

H. Seitz
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