Santorum Slashfic: Making Friends is a Real Grindr

July 3, 2012 § Leave a comment

Earlier today I was linked to this Daily Currant article, which WOULD have been the greatest Rick Santorum-related Grindrgate the world has ever known. As it is, the article is satire — better luck next time. That however didn’t stop me from writing a Santorum Slashfic:

Previously in Santorum Slashfic, Ricky was settling into his new life as Matt Roomby’s dog Jeff Gordon. This week, Ricky tries to make contact with his long lost friend Michael on Grindr, his new favorite app. Pull up a smart phone and join me, will you? 

For the full article, go to here!

[and/or full text after the jump]

Even though he is supposed to be Matt Roomby’s dog Jeff Gordon, Ricky Santorum still carries a smart phone. At first Matt Roomby thought this was strange, and one morning asked Ricky why he always played Bubble Shooter whenever he went to the garden to go poop. “Woof woof,” Ricky said, and Matt Roomba just laughed.

This morning as he was Googling his own name, Ricky found a silly article that pretended to be news but was actually full of lies. After he finished reading the Fox News article, he found another one that made Ricky very confused! It said that a reporter found a Grindr app on his phone, which Ricky thought was for coffee! Ricky knew this wasn’t true either, because coffee gave the baby Jesus cancer and anyway he was Matt Roomby’s dog now. Still, Ricky had never heard of a Grindr, and decided to see if maybe it could help him find his friend Michael, who Ricky met last Easter. Just thinking of Michael made his whole face get hot!

“I think he has to go poop again,” the blonde lady who lived with Matt Roomby said. It was true, Ricky did have to go poop!

While he was outside, Ricky found the Grindr app and started looking around. He recognized a lot of the people from the crowded place filled with drunk people where Ricky used to play Senator. “My friends all look so happy!” he said, and felt a little sad. He didn’t know everybody though. Some of the men were bigger and hairier than Ricky’s old friends and looked mean. Ricky thought it would be especially fun to make friends with them.

Ricky must have looked through fifteen pages of pictures before he found someone who looked like Michael. The picture was too small to tell for sure, but the man seemed nice and strong (“just like my dad!” Ricky thought) and had a lot, lot of fur. Ricky decided to send the nice man a message.

“1time I tried 2B prez,” Ricky wrote. “Im a dog now. Do u want 2B frnds?❤ ricky”

The nice man responded right away. “You’re a dog huh? Well I’m looking for a bitch. Let’s play fetch.”

Ricky was excited because the nice man only lived a mile away. He went inside and cried and cried until Matt Roomby agreed to take him for a walk. “I have to poop!” Ricky said. Matt sighed. “Could someone call in a tip to the press?” he asked. “I’m taking Jeff Gordon for a walk around the compound.”

But Ricky didn’t want to go for a walk around the compound! He wanted to go see his new friend so bad, and dragged Matt Roomby all the way to his house. Every few minutes he’d check his phone to see if he was heading in the right direction. “Jeff Gordon!” Matt yelled, but Ricky didn’t care.

Finally they arrived at a house even bigger than Matt’s. An older man was standing in the driveway and waved. Ricky frowned and looked at his new friend’s picture again. He was much younger than the man in the driveway, and had beautiful dark fur covering his body. The man in the driveway was shrively and had ugly old grandpa hair.

“Fred?” Matt Roomby said, surprised.

“Romney,” Fred answered.

Ricky giggled. Who the donuts was Romney??

“When did you move into the neighborhood?” Matt Roomby asked.

Fred just stared at him. “Who’s this?” he asked.

“This is my dog, Jeff Gordon.”

Fred didn’t say anything.

“We should be on our way,” Matt Roomby said. “Good to see you.” He tugged on Ricky’s leash.

Fred raised his phone and waved it slightly. Call me, he mouthed to Ricky. But Fred didn’t look like he’d be a good friend. Ricky looked away, and followed Matt Roomby down the driveway.

“I never understood that family,” Roomby mumbled. “Stay away from the Phelps’ property from now on, you hear me Jeff Gordon?”

Ricky did, and the two walked home in silence.

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