Let me make something crystal clear to members of the press. I didn’t come to Washington to play games. I didn’t come here to pose for the cameras or rub elbows at some swanky Georgetown cocktail party. I came here for one reason only: to represent the good people who live in my walls. Period.
The folks back in my home are angry, and it’s high time I stop being the only one who hears them.
When my constituents in the three inches of space behind my drywall communicate with me through static electricity or the dripping of my faucet, they tell me one thing over and over again: light a post office on fire. Yet when I bring up the issue on the floor, all I get is physically restrained.
Instead of working toward solutions, it seems like everyone in Washington is more interested in silencing the people who can actually speak directly to the founding fathers in their dreams.
Let me remind everyone here, none of this is new. I was extremely transparent about my devoted relationship with the people in my walls on the campaign trail. I said it at town halls. I said it on bodybuilding forums. I said it as I ran unopposed in the Republican primary.
And I’ll tell you something else: The people in my walls are sick and tired of being ignored. They’ve been tapping, they’ve been moaning, they’ve been scampering. In fact, they’ve been scratching at all hours of the night, and yet it still feels like I’m the only one in government who even acknowledges them. Well, I’m listening, and I’m not going to stand here and apologize for touching my private parts through a hole in my pants pocket. Are we clear?
I would sacrifice anything for my constituents—namely, a bunch of raccoons and, one time, a person.
And yeah, sometimes caring means getting your hands dirty. You think leadership happens sitting behind a mahogany desk? Think again. It happens when you’re down there in the crawlspace at three in the morning, shirtless, covered in dust, smearing your own feces across the wall to mark which parts of the house are safe from the Chinese Communist Party.
Every time I dare to bring up their concerns, I get the same blank stares, the same polite smiles. “Oh, Congressman, maybe you should get some rest.” “Maybe we should pause the debate, Congressman, you’re bleeding from your mouth.” “Congressman, under no circumstances can you have a sword in here.” Well, I’m sorry, but what I need is action. I need oversight. I need $5 billion in funding to put my symbol on every federal building so we can tell extraterrestrials that they are not welcome here.
Because at the end of the day, I don’t work for you. I work for what I estimate to be nearly three hundred American men, women, and children who proudly call my walls home. And if Washington refuses to recognize them, you’d better get ready, because a storm is coming. That storm is a hurricane I’m summoning with my mind.
Got all that? Great. Because I am proud to announce that I’ve been appointed chair of the House Intelligence Committee.