Mr. Cope's Cave: Dear Pres ... er, Mrs. Clinton

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Mr. Cope's Cave: Dear Pres ... er, Mrs. Clinton, 

I know you must have 40 tons of mail to get through, so I'll make this short. Just wanted to say how happy I am you're in it for good, and go get 'em!

Actually, I was hoping to have a big spectacular deal written up for when you entered the race because I am !!!SOOOO EXCITED!!! you are going to be our next president, and don't let any of those shrimpy dorks on the Republican side tell you any different, but ... well, to be honest, since when I heard you were going to make you're announcement Sunday, it's been sort of a rough crappy week. I spent most of it sick with some irritating crud that had me blowing my schnoz every 30 seconds. And then by Friday, I was feeling better so I went out and spent about three hours on my garden tiller, which just shook the holy crap out of me because I'm trying to break some ground that, unbeknownst to me, had turned into concrete over the winter. And then I got sick again, only worse than I was before, and then Sunday rolled around and you made your announcement, which I didn't hear because I spent most of the day in bed except for the trip I took to buy some seed spuds which I haven't gotten planted yet because I felt so punky, and then today rolled around and the big spectacular deal I had hoped to write up for you didn't exactly get written.

Except for this.

And I guess down deep, I'm glad you probably won't be reading this yourself because now that I've written enough to re-read, I can see that it's sort of pathetic and about as spectacular as a drippy schnozz, and I hope you don't think this is the best I can do if you somehow do read it because I know I can do better. And to be honest with you, I've been sort of hoping you would somehow ... like, by a weird miracle ... read the big spectacular deal I'd hoped to write and then you'd get in touch with me and ask if I would give you a hand with your Inauguration Address, which I am !!!SOOOOO EXCITED!!! you'll be giving even if I don't get chosen to write it, which I'm sure I won't be if this is all you ever read of what I've written. I shouldn't even put it on the Internet on the off chance you are Googling yourself and come across it. But I have to because what with all the punky schnozz dripping and getting the holy crap shaken out of me and the hoping I could come up with a big spectacular deal written thing for your announcement and seed spuds sitting around waiting to get planted, this is the only thing I've gotten written all weekend. So on the Internet it goes, pathetic or not, because it's all I got.

By the way, I don't think Googling yourself would be a very good idea. The shrimpy dorks are being as nasty to you as they can be and it's going to get a lot worse before you're elected President.