(Sean Spicer looks into the mirror as he begins to speak. Unable to meet his own gaze, he instead stares over his own shoulder in the reflection. He is unkempt, and appears troubled.)
You’re going to have a great press conference today! And you’re going to help this country.
You’re good enough, smart enough, and DOG GONE IT, people like you!
Well, Seanie… you really could use a boost here, pal. Okay, well maybe “pal” is the wrong word. I guess you’re more like a friendly acquaintance. Or someone that I recognize vaguely from work, and I nod awkwardly to you when we notice one other hovering near the vending machines.
“Okay Sean, get up off of the ground, dust yourself off, run inside and change your underpants, then give your bottom a good wipe with a wet tissue. Dry those eyes, and don’t let those other, mean boys tear you down!” That’s what Mom would say to me as a child, and I believe that, were she still talking to me, that’s what she would say now.
There’s a saying that I hear helps out others quite a bit, and it’s “If at first you don’t succeed, try tripe again.” People seem to benefit greatly from this, and draw great strength. I just don’t get it. I’ve tried to eat tripe several times, and it doesn’t make me feel any better. And it’s not the disgust factor, either; you can’t be a politician for as long as I have without having placed unpleasant things into your mouth a time or two. Or three. So it’s not that. Maybe I’m just helpless. And, that’s… okay.
Well, maybe not morally okay. But why bring ethics into an already messy situation?
It’s been a tough few weeks, that’s for certain. I know that I have nothing but respect for the Jewish people, and I believe this with all of my heart. What they went through in the Hollow Costco was horrifying, and I’m sure that each of them still has nightmares to this day. In fact, I plan to personally visit each and every person who went through this cruel nightmare, and offer them my personal salute. They’re just lucky that no one was hurt worse, or killed even.
It’s times like this that I really wish that we could help the Syrian people. But I guess since we can’t allow them into our country, the best thing to do is keep shooting rockets and bombs over to where they live now. I’m sure that they see that this is in their best interests. Still, I do feel bad about the whole thing. And that’s… okay.
Not “okay” okay, but still… maybe kind of okay? I’ve decided not to dwell on it.
I really have been feeling the pressure. To succeed, to perform well. These things just seem to elude me, for some reason. It helps to recall something that my pastor once told me, “God doesn’t close a door without opening a Winchell’s” That’s great news for me, because if I lose my job, which I believe must be almost a certainty at this point, I’m doing to be really depressed and will need lots and lots of doughnut therapy.
And at the end of the day, as far as Seans go, at least you’re not as bad as Hannity. That guy is an insufferable prick.