Dear former Senator Coleman,

[Stinky The Clown]

It is long past time.

If you do not give up, I will do this incantation thing I do with sidewalk dried Kentucky Fried Chicken bones, metal bottle cap cork liners, the black scrapings from a dime's worth of wheat back pennies, three broken shoelaces, the residue from a spent Bic lighter and matching empty Bic pen, three cigar-stub-shaped-and-sized aged dog poops, and a used Marlboro filter.

These are ritually burnt and the ashes wetted with Faygo Diet Cream soda. This is then reduced in an unlined copper pot and the whole mess thrown off a second story fire escape when no one is nearby.

If this is all done while saying the proper words over and over, the hole in the end of your penis will rapidly self-seal, urine will back up, and your penis will swell until it explodes.

So give it up, bub.

Besides, the judges say its over.

312.

That's the number, Normie.

Give it up.



With great concern,
Stinky