So it’s finally happened. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to make a switch before I lost any shred of dignity I had left. I have converted…

…to the Republican party.

I’m not really sure how it happened, but I believe it’s been accumulating for quite some time now. I started noticing my impatience toward “long-haired hippie freaks” and “bleeding-heart liberals.” As I drive around with my $4 latte, I roll my eyes at the “Yuppie scum off the East Side!” graffiti near my neighborhood. I notice a student on a bike on my way to work, taking up the road, and I flip him the double bird as I rev my engine.

I see all the young idealists coming out for Obama, and I think, grow up. I’ve begun thinking that illegals should all be rounded up and sent back home, except for my future powerwashing nanny. Universal healthcare? I’m perfectly content with my insurance, thank you very much, even though I’ve maxed out my mental health benefits.

Yesterday’s NYT magazine was the green issue. Ditto this month’s Vanity Fair. I couldn’t have been less interested. From now on, I plan to purchase at least two plastic water bottles a day and throw them in the trash. And, as for all you poor single mothers, if you can’t afford children, why do you keep having them?

I think that we need more people in prison, not less. And the death penalty? It’s pretty fair, all things considered. The war on terror? Bring it on. Don’t you know that if we don’t fight them over there, they’ll fight us over here?

I believe that government spending is out of control. I believe that the Bush tax cuts should be made permanent to stimulate the economy. Blue-collar workers mean nothing to me. I think the Bible should be taught in the classroom. When women come back to work from maternity leave, I think they should be asked repeatedly why they’re letting strangers raise their children.

I think that anyone who is not covered in the American flag (kitten vests, lapel pins, face paint), they should love it or leave it.

Next time you see me out sipping on a $12 glass of pinot, ask me all about it. And let me finish.