It's time for us to break up. I can't sugarcoat how I feel, so I'll put it bluntly.
You came back after a long absence, promising you were a changed man. You were nicer. You were no longer angry. You had great ideas to improve every aspect of life. You had found God through the Catholic Church. You even had a new wife who wears a platinum helmet on her head.
I gave you a umpteenth chance. I really tried. I tried to overlook your nastiness when you were talking to people. Whether it was one of the other men in my life or a group, you couldn't restrain yourself. You made false promises. That makes me not trust you. A colony on the moon? Get real. With who's money? $2 gas? How you gonna pay for that? Ask the subsidized oil companies to give up their obscene profits? I doubt it.
You said you'd roll back laws you don't like. Laws you helped write. Laws that only Congress can roll back. You told us you were a historian, but then you prove you know nothing about civics. You once wrote a contract on America, except you called it a contract with America. That didn't work in the nineties. Why do you think rehashed ideas would work today? You forget that if you don't learn from history, you're meant to repeat its mistakes. Looks like you have no new ideas, just reheated stuff from a couple of decades ago.
You found God. Well, bully for you. I wasn't sure He was lost, but if you found Him, you must know what you're doing. In politics, you're not our savior. You offer no solutions to our problems.
I have nothing against Helmet-Head. I hope she's happy. I don't think she's going to be the First Lady, though. Wonder if she'll stay with you when you have to concede that we really don't want you.
One thing I know: You won't be the Republication nominee. We just don't have the stomach for one more angry, fat, white guy with no new thinking. We just don't. So, Newt. This is a Dear John letter. Go away. Don't come back. If you try, we might have to take out a temporary restraining order against you.
Signed, The General Electorate
