CONGRESSIONAL RECORD — TESTIMONY BY DORIS FLARN, THE SADDEST MAN IN THE WORLD — UNITED STATES SENATE — JULY 21, 2017
Mr. FLARN. Weeell, weeell, weeell… if it isn’t the United States Senate! Fancy meeting you here on the floor of the United States Senate Chamber! I bet you’re wondering: why is a man named Doris Flarn who’s 42 years old and has “the three boch’s” speaking to us here on the Senate floor?
[While it is not standard practice to comment on the appearance of someone speaking before the Senate, the Office of the Senate Clerk feels it necessary to state that Mr. Flarn is wearing a t-shirt that reads, “THIS IS THE SHIRT I WEAR ON DAYS I EAT AT SUBWAY…” on the front and “…AND I HAVE 6 MORE JUST LIKE IT” on the back. It is homemade.]
And now I bet you’re wondering: why is his name Doris? And what are “the three boch’s?” Well, I’ll tell you!
The three boch’s are: a bocce ball set, botulism, and botched Lasik; my name’s Doris because my parents are stupid and thought Doris was the male version of Dorothy; and I’m here because you all have been reeeeaaalll dumb lately, and I think it’s about time you got roasted by me: Doris Flarn, The Saddest Man in the World!
First up, Mitch McConnell. Mitch McConnell! You look like a granddad who woke up one day and said, “Hm! What should I wear today? Oh, I know! How about the skin of another granddad?”
[Mr. Flarn high-steps around the Senate floor in an apparent victory dance. Both his knees and ankles click loudly with every step.]
Ooooh, I bet it stings bein’ burned by a man who makes his own colostomy bags at home! Why do I need colostomy bags, you might wonder? The answer is: D! All the above!
Next up, Mike Pence! Mr. Vice President, you’re actually doing pretty well for someone who had the surgery where they replaced all your facial orifices with buttholes! All I can say is… good thing you’re always constipated, and me too!
[Mr. Flarn makes a succession of guttural high-pitched noises which appear to be his laugh.]
EENG-EENG-EENG-EENG-EENG! See how sad I am?! My natural laugh sounds like a chimpanzee cry-maxing!
Third’s the turd, Orrin Hatch! Orrin, your name isn’t stupider than mine, but it’s as stupid, and that’s pretty bad! Orrin sounds like a name George R. R. Martin uses as a placeholder until he comes up with something that isn’t dumb!
[Mr. Flarn doubles over and catches his breath for approximately 30 seconds. He produces a Go-Gurt from his back pocket and consumes the entire tube in one slurp. He makes the “aaahhh” sound of being refreshed, even though there is no possible way a Go-Gurt is refreshing. He high-steps again. The clicks are louder.]
Ooooh yeah! Tell me—what’s it feel like to get served by a guy who, despite being independently wealthy, has worked at four different Ruby Tuesdays because that’s how he likes to meet people?!
Now, you’re probably wondering how I’m independently wealthy! Well! When I was thirteen years old, I was trying to grab a rare width of shoe off the top shelf at a DSW—I have what doctors call frisbee feet—and I pulled the whole display down, pinning myself to the ground for three days as it was closing time on a Friday before a holiday weekend that was also my birthday! I won a massive settlement which will keep me wealthy until I die and it has made me numb to any and all achievement ever since!
I hope that answers your questions! I hope you’ve been sufficiently roasted! And now i’m going out the same way I got in! By being completely unnoticed by everyone! Flarn… out!
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