I’m not ashamed to admit that over my life I’ve taken some jobs I’m not proud of. But you don’t need to take a trip to the Burlington Coat Factory every weekend to know there’s something wrong with America when Lady Gaga can wear a thong bikini made of soggy rainbow trout and nobody blinks an eye, but a jacket like me can’t make one political ad without it haunting its collar forever.
I mean, Rick Perry is just one of tons of gigs I’ve had over the years. Yes, Sarah Palin wore me once or twice, and there might be a picture of me on George W. Bush during a visit from Tony Blair. But I have a long list of way more impressive clients on my resume. Jean Claude Van Damme wore me to the premiere of Maximum Risk in 96’. It was pretty sweet. Bob Barker has donned me on several trips to the Golden Corral for the early bird special. Their cornbread is delicious. And I once spent a glorious evening on a prestigious coat rack in the Viper Room snuggling up close to Johnny Depp’s faux suede jacket which smelled of French cigarettes and tulips. Ahhhhh.
Heath Ledger even wore me in Brokeback Mountain! Ironic, huh? I reveled in hugging Heath’s chiseled, firm shoulders and masculine, toned pectorals take after take on the set. Being associated with that Oscar nominated film was the highlight of my career. But Rick Perry’s shoulders? Yuck. They were made of middle-aged gelatinous goo. His weird, cashew shaped nipples poked at me and I swear his armpits were filled with some kind of congealed cottage cheese that stuck to me like horse shit on a cowboy boot. Totally not making that up. At all.
So please don’t hold Perry’s campaign ad against me. I’m not a bigot. I’m just a jacket who believes in our country. A hard working jacket like any other jacket in your closet (or out of the closet! Hey-oh!) Even though sometimes I’m donned as anti-gay apparel, that doesn’t reflect my own personal views. I would never insist that all those suiting up in a poncho should be deported to Mexico, or anyone wearing a pink pleather jacket shouldn’t be able to marry another pink pleather jacket lover any day of the week. That would be un-American.
Just because Rick Perry is a first class douche nozzle doesn’t mean his clothes are too. If you allow me to be your jacket, I’ll fight against attacks on hard working gay and straight jacketed folk such as yourself. Patriotic Americans who want to wear their trench coats, parkas, dinner jackets, tailcoats, smoking jackets, cocoon coats, toggle coats, cape coats, chesterfields and frocks in peace without being judged for who they bang like a rhesus monkey in heat after they take us off.
I am Rick Perry’s Jacket and I approve this message.
