Today the Republican Vice-Presidential pick Paul Ryan published the following poem to America: This morning I was at Equinox Getting ripped and shredded, pumped and jacked, Cross-training with Jeremy Who totally kicks my butt. And I was like, I shall not let my foes define me. And I was so stoked I punched Jeremy in the face. Endorphins, mofo Sweet. Who is Paul Ryan? He can bench-press three times his weight, Ochocinco a cinderblock in two, Change the course of mighty rivers, Bend steel in his bare hands, And tug freighters with his teeth. Paul Ryan: Rock-hard abs, Bulging delts, Glistening pecs. But not gay. Ayn Rand wrote: The question isnt who is going to let me; its who is going to stop me. She could have been writing About Paul Freakin Ryan. I dont read Ayn Rand anymore. I disavow her atheist philosophy. I just know that quote Because its tattooed on my left oblique. So join me In Paul Ryans America: Where heroes roam free And pussies fear to tread. Where a small boy from Wisconsin Can grow up to join forces with a casino billionaire To kick Iran in the cojones, And leave behind the America of my foes: Where the old and feeble Expect food, medicine, and whatnot. Not on my watch Because I am Paul Ryan. Paul Freakin Ryan. Drop and give me twenty, America: Its clobberin time. 