When I was in college, my best friend warned me not to hook up with this guy we'll call "Keith" because, as best as I can recall, I've never actually hooked up with anyone named Keith.
Anyhoo, I was sort of gah-gah about him becuase he was freakin' gorgeous and sexy and flirty. Dumb as a brick, but still... But my friend knew him from her hometown. She knew what a dick he was and how he treated girls like shit. She warned me and then warned me again, and then when I refused to heed her warnings, she was pretty much like, "Well, okay. Your funeral."
Fast forward to a few weeks post-hookup. I'm stalking this guy like a psycho. Why won't he call me back?! I booty call him and make a complete ass of myself. I run into him at a rock show, and he all but ignores me. But wait! A glimmer of hope!! He tells me to meet him at his house after the show. Hubba hubba!! Whatever you say, guy-who's-been-treating-me-like-shit-but-is-just-so-damn-HOT! I'll be there!
I show up and guess what: He doesn't. I just sit outside of his house for like an hour, waiting for him to get home and then leave, carrying an ass-ton of hurt pride and an endless loop of my friend's voice saying "I TOLD you so," going through my head.
Why am I telling you this? Because the way my friend must've felt when she was warning me against Keith? That's how I feel about warning America about THIS hypocritical douche bag:
Remember when you had that horrible 8-year fling with that other daft Republican Governor of Texas? Remember how that whole thing worked out?! Why would you want to do that to yourself again, America? You're better than that! And besides, this dumbass makes George W. seem like the fucking chairman of Mensa.
So please America, do not date Rick Perry. Because if you do? It's your funeral.