My name is Chief Bob’s Big Boy in Charge of Things — Gavin Newsom. I’m writing this op-ed currently and with great intentions to talk to people who share the same political leanings as I do: specifically left ones. I know lately there’ve been discussions about me running for President (stop, stop, I’m blushing, OMG) and whether or not I’d actually be a progressive enough candidate to make any sort of difference.
Critics of mine (San Diego zoo animals that they are) will frequently point out that as governor of California, I’ve made several major decisions that are baffling for a “progressive.” For instance, my insistence on having parties during COVID, my unflinching support for the fifty-first American state (Israel) and most of all, my treatment of the homeless. But to these detractors, I’d like to say: you’re so stupid. I am the handsome, shiny face of the American progressive movement. That is to say, you can be a progressive and still hunt the homeless for sport.
That’s right. Ever since I was just a little baby Governor Gavin Newsom, I dreamed of being a force for political change. I knew that one day, when I had the power to do so, I would eliminate California’s homelessness crisis the only way I knew how: by driving around in my Hobo-Zamboni and hunting the unhoused for sport with my crossbow. It keeps our streets clean and safe. And it sure gives me quite a chub while I’m doing it.
Look, I know some of you doubting desert-dwellers and mouthy meth-heads off in Bakersfield might say I’m out of touch. But my suits are barely ever made out of dead people anymore. And my haircut only costs as much as the monthly rent on a Santa Barbara studio apartment. I’m a man of the people: Women in Glendale constantly message me to say how they pay property taxes to feel safe and that we should get rid of the homeless by sending them somewhere with women who can’t pay. But I’m just too nice. I believe in hunting them for sport to give back to the community.
Yes, that’s right, I believe in recycling. Once she learned of my blood-lust, L.A. Mayor Karen Bass Pro Shop reached out to me about using the carcasses of the homeless I’ve slaughtered to be turned into a cheap source to dog food for huskies. Angelenos hate the homeless, but they love huskies. Even though they don’t have the weather for them, nor the space to keep them energized.
So stop criticizing me, you Sacramentally Challenged individuals. I am Daddy. I am the moment. I deserve to be president in three years. I definitely shouldn’t stay my sorry ass in my lane and keep California from getting overrun by Republicans.
