The Plight of the Romney Woman

As i sat in my tiny studio apartment watching a sixty-second documentary, my heart went out to a woman who was utterly destroyed by the Obama administration, and wasn't afraid to speak out on the subject. There she sat, in her lovely two-story home which had a flawlessly landscaped yard outside and a kitchen to die for on the inside, pouring her heart out over her lovely Lenox china. It seemed that the children she'd been able to afford to put through university educations had not been able to find jobs. Worse yet, these children and their children were underfoot again because they couldn't find jobs that met their socio-economic requirements. To top it all off, the woman aged fifteen years before our very eyes in the course of sixty seconds. If she'd had more time, she probably would have crumbled into grave dust as she downgraded from a Jaguar to a Jetta. I don't think i would have been able to bear it.

Good Lord, what does this country expect our children to do nowdays? Actually go out and accept any honest work they can find?! That's ludicrous! Next thing you know we'll be asking them to take responsibility for their own finances and debt accumulation! Can you imagine the shame of having to spend Christmas in Vale instead of Gstaad?! What's this world come to?

I don't know how this woman sleeps at night anymore. The poor dear probably lies awake worrying herself sick until her health care covered prescription of Ambien kicks in. She may have to let go of one of the under-gardeners to make up for the increased amount of sessions she now requires at the psychologists office. Two things she desperately needs are a weekend at Elizabeth Arden and a first-rate colourist. If this keeps up she may also need corrective vision laser surgery as well because she might have to actually research investment analysts to find one who graduated from Yale instead of Harvard. Oh, the injustice of it all!

Well, i'll keep my fingers crossed for the poor dear and hope she finds a way to carry on. At least i can take comfort in the suspicion that she probably managed to cover her personal masseuse for the year with her earnings from the ad...um... documentary.

Lily Robertson, who has nothing but sympathy for the delusional until they start voting, can be reached at canopicjargon@gmail.com,on Facebook, or right here in front of everyone.