Dear John (Conyers…oops, my mistake. I mean Cornyn),
I hate that I have to say this in a letter, rather than face to face, but it's over. As George Strait once sang, so long, farewell, Vaya con dios goodbye.
It's not me. It's you.
You lost me at the word cloture.
No, now shush. You can't talk your way out of this one with your sweet talk about how you voted against the debt ceiling increase in the end. The fact remains is you got in bed with Harry Reid, stabbed Ted Cruz in the back and prevented his filibuster of the debt ceiling increase before it had a chance to warm up.
I'm tired of it. Tired of the double talk. Tired of the excuses and tired of the claims that you are something you are not.
You and I both know that this was bound to happen -- that it wouldn't work in the end. We are polar opposites for God's sake.
I love the true meaning and intent of the Constitution. You like PAC fundraisers and cushy little Washington insider cocktail parties.
I have a deep rooted belief system that comes from being raised with values, honesty and a firm hand. You have a deep rooted belief on polls and issue flavors of the month.
I hang out at the bar and sing bad karaoke covers with folks who drive trucks, work in warehouses, work two jobs to send their children to private schools and tend to their farms. You like to hang out in the senate cloakroom with pals like Mitch McConnell.
I believe that term limits are becoming a necessity because of people like you. You believe you have a right to stay there as long as you want, because you're a part of the establishment.
Don't get me wrong, I am not particularly fond of the man trying to replace you. But, writing in Mickey Mouse is sounding better every day.
P.S. Please remember a saying popular here in Texas --- where you are fond of saying you are from --- dance with the one who brung ya. Mitch isn't good for your look and people are gossiping.