Monsters at my Closet Door

[Warph]

Man oh man, what a day.  I tell you, all that yardwork raking rocks and running around the golf course must really be catching up with me, because sport, I am drained.  So thank God I can finally get some shut-eye around here.  Yes, siree bob, after another hard day at the 19th Hole, nothing feels better than drifting off to sleep here in my big, cozy—whoa, wait a second...what was that?  Did my closet door just creak open?  Ah, for cripes sake.  Is that that damned monster Obama in my closet again?  What is it with him and his Saul Alinsky monster buddies?  Every night with the creaking and the crawling.  Enough, already, will ya?  Give it a rest!  Look, I've brushed my teeth, I've put on my jammies, I'm all  tucked in here.... I'm all ready for beddy-bye, for crying out loud.... and now, do I have to lie here in the darkness like a putz and wait for some crazed monster called Obama to tear me a new a**hole?  Give me a break!  No, see, this makes me really mad.  I have eight measly hours every night to get some sleepy-time before I have to get up and catch some rays on the golf course.  I need my damn rest, okay?  I'm not kidding around.  I got enough problems with putting, I don't need to sit here in the pitch dark and deal with this miserable Obama garbage crap.  What, do I have a sign on my back that says, "Terrify me?"  It never ends with this shit.  Ah, geez.  Did something just move under my bed?  Cripes, is creepy Obama down there now?  Dammit.  I am actually getting legitimately furious right now.  No, no, go ahead, you crummy monster.  Get comfortable.  Don't mind me, I'll just be up here trembling in mortal terror thinking about the way you are killing my rights and liberties.  Unbelievable.  I swear to, if it weren't for the fact that you'd grab my ankles and pull me under the bed the second my feet hit the floor, I'd be out the door, sport.  Lickety-split.  Because I don't need this aggravation.  Well, well, well.... look at that, you stumble bum creeps.  I wet my jammies.  That's just terrific.  You happy now, you sicko clowns?  Now it's gonna get all over the bed and I'll have to lie in a pool of my own urine like some kind of barnyard animal.  Shit!  What a night.  You know what?  Forget this crap. I'm calling in the big guns, my dogs Rowdy and Chili Dawg.... ROWDY......!    CHILI DAWG.......!  Oh man, what a surprise.... they are pretending they can't hear me.  Shocker.  It's not like they're three rooms away or anything!  Boy, I wish someone was filming this, I really do.  Just so they could see what an absolute nightmare my life is right now: It's the middle of the damned night, I'm soaked in my own piss, I got frickin' Obama and his monster pals under my bed waiting to eat me, and now Rowdy and Chili Dawg are out cold like someone konked them over their heads with an 80-pound Valium.  I am ready, Lord.  Take me now.  Should have set that damned monster trap.  Stupid idiot.  What the hell was I thinking?  I had the pots and pans and the twine, why didn't I set the trap?  See, this is exactly why nothing ever gets done around here.  I always start a project, but I never seem to fin... GAH!  SON OF A BITCH..... SOMETHING JUST TOUCHED MY TOE!!!!  Something DEFINITELY just touched my toe!  What kind of an a**hole would do that?  That's it, I've had it with these Obama creep monsters.  Honestly, what's next?  They goin' to tax me to death?  They've already screwed up my health plan which means no more free senior diapers.  Bastards!  Am I going to cry now?  Is that what's happening?  Aw crap, here come the waterworks.  Right on time.  Holy smoke... I am losing it, man.  I am totally losing it.  Ah, to hell with this, I'm going under the damned covers!  You want me, you bastard clowns, you can come and get me!  .....Warph