Dear America,

‘Puter’s been doing some thinking and far too much drinking. ‘Puter was on vacation last week. Don’t judge him. Of course, ‘Puter’s doctor’s probably not going to be too pleased when ‘Puter goes to see her next week, but that’s for another post.

So there ‘Puter was, minding his own business at his undisclosed Delmarva palatial beach manse, sucking down Lavoris and Leinenkugel shandies, and macking hard on Mrs. ‘Puter, as one does on vacation.* ‘Puter happened to hear his oldest son, Laptop, ranting like a communist on crack about how Nazis had invaded central Virginia. Naturally, any information coming from Laptop is suspect especially since he’s now into his seventh year of Jesuit education.

Naturally ‘Puter checked up on Laptop to make sure he hadn’t swallowed his tongue from apoplexy and spite. Laptop hadn’t, so ‘Puter checked his Twitter feed.

Holy sweet baby Jeebus in the manger, what a sh*tshow of epic proportions. Near as ‘Puter could make out from the garbled nature of his feed, Nazis, Fascists, Fascist Nazis, Nazi Fascists, Fascist Anti-Nazis, Nazi Anti-Fascists, local cops, state cops, National Guardsmen, a poorly maintained helicopter, the governor, the mayor, the junior mayor, and Dodge Challenger brand image had all simultaneously shat the bed.

‘Puter dutifully ignored the First Annual Charlottesville Fiesta de Mierda for the remainder of his vacation lest the delicate and ladylike Mrs. ‘Puter repeatedly nut punch him. Again. ‘Puter managed to catch up on the facts and the uproar upon his return to scenic Upstate New York, Land That Hope Forgot^TM.

So ‘Puter was on Twitter at lunch today, as he is wont to do, and Dave (@nochiefs) said, “Hey, ‘Puter. You really ought to write that crap you pass off as wisdom up.” So here we are.

Behold, ‘Puter’s Epicly Awesome and Totally Correct Takeaways on Charlottesville:

• Charlottesville is the home of Thomas Jefferson’s University of Virginia, which can suck on ‘Puter’s tiny Irish wang for rejecting him for both undergrad and law school.
• In Charlottesville, natives wile away the blissful, serene days by enticing once-great magazines to falsely accuse fraternities of rape. Oh, the fun the natives have doing this!
• When they’re all done destroying media outlets, Charlottesville natives periodically invite morally abhorrent groups comprised of basement dwelling Millennials adhering to discredited ideologies to go to war over a guy who went to war for slavery. Did ‘Puter mention both sides dress up in cute costumes? Because they totally do!
• Charlottesville causes politicians to explain away bad behavior of a group they agree with (but pretend not to agree with) by pointing at the bad behavior of the group they don’t agree with and going “Aha! You’re evil and bad! Recant, or face the Inquisition!”
• Charlottesville has a magical aura which renders rioting Leftists invisible to media. It’s the darndest thing! Media didn’t see hard Leftists do anything wrong! Media has no idea what you’re talking about! It’s hysterical and it never gets old. Trust ‘Puter on this one.
• Charlottesville causes mayors and governors to endanger lives by playing political games with police protection. Man, is it funny to watch police stand idly by as Charlottesville descends into lawlessness, riots, and murder so local and state Democrats can score political points!
• Charlottesville causes mass hallucinations on both the Right and the Left in which each side believes the fringe on the other side is massive in number and power and totally representative of the other side’s actual beliefs.

‘Puter’s had a bit of fun with his characterization of this past weekend’s events, but here’s the real takeaway. It is dangerous to excuse or coddle fringe groups, no matter how small. And people on both the Right and the Left are doing just that.

There’s plenty of blame to go around for how much things are screwed up right now. Put your own house in order before you bravely go flame-war the other side’s trolls on Twitter.

Hugs and kisses,

‘Puter

* ‘Puter’s undisclosed palatial Delmarva beach manse is actually ‘Puter’s parents’ beach house, but ‘Puter likes to pretend it’s his. After all, who wouldn’t want their child who was as awesome and super-cool as ‘Puter to inherit the beach house? Certainly not Mom and Dad ‘Puter. Sure, ‘Puter’s three siblings might be a tad miffed, but c’mon. ‘Puter’s frikkin’ awesome.

'Puter

Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.

’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.

The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.

His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.

He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.

Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.

‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.