To Bobby J:
Hello, it’s me.
Your greatest fan. From the beginning, I’ve supported your decision to stay the hell away from our state in the blind hope of becoming the next president. I rooted for you to linger in that one percent threshold of Republican support, continuing in the GOP primary until your cruel reign ended.
But now, you’ve dropped out of the race, and honestly, we don’t want you back.
With an estimated $500 million budget shortfall halfway through the year, we can’t afford for you to make life worse with desperate politicking in hopes of gaining a cabinet position under Emperor Donald Trump’s rule.
Take solace, though, in the support garnered from your fellow crackpots running for president. Sen. Lindsey Graham, R-South Carolina, tweeted you served us folks in Louisiana well. Senators Marco Rubio, R-Fl., and Ted Cruz, R-Texas, joined in on the pandering by wishing you well, and Gov. Mike Huckabee, whilst kidding himself he still had a chance to win the nomination, said you would be a great addition to the next POTUS’s cabinet.
If the next president enjoys media nightmares, fear-mongering and widening budget shortfalls created by increasing corporate welfare, you’re the cabinet pick for him (not her)!
“Well, he was, you know, a little nasty with me, but I think ultimately was very nice and he tried,” Trump said on a telephone interview on Fox & Friends.
Trump, he was a little nasty to Louisiana, too.
Since 2008, you cut higher education’s budget by nearly $700 million, stunting LSU’s growth for eight years and hindering our national competitiveness. However, your efforts this year haven’t all been terrible. You took U.S. Sen. David Vitter’s, R-La., racist, political soul-selling out of the news cycle for a whole day. Blessed.
In all seriousness, I don’t know what you plan to do for the rest of your career. As a 44-year-old, you’ve got a lot of time ahead of you, but I don’t think it’s going to be spent here in this state.
The Louisiana GOP doesn’t want you. The Louisiana Dems don’t want you. No lobbying firm in Louisiana will touch you for a good 10 years.
You could always give speeches to the Evangelical right for cold, hard Christian cash, but that will take time away from your family members. And by the look of your cheesy, spy-cam campaign announcement video, they mean a lot to you.
The end of your second term will mark the happiest break up in Louisiana political history. The relationship was plummeting long before your presidential campaign announcement, and it’s time to cut the cord.
Bobby, don’t call a thousand times to say you’re sorry for everything you’ve done. You can’t say that you tried.
Don’t tell us you’re sorry for breaking our state’s heart. What you’ve done matters. It’s still tearing us apart, and it’s time for you to say farewell.
Sincerely,
Justin
Justin DiCharia is a 21-year-old mass communication senior from Slidell, Louisiana. You can reach him on Twitter @JDiCharia.