Sixteen days. They think I don’t know that? I can count. Sixteen days. That’s about 600 cigarettes. More, maybe. I’m not gonna do the math. There are enough people spouting shutdown numbers. A man smokes more when he’s up shit’s creek … but I have a paddle. I have a gavel. The gavel.

They want me to cry — they’re all just waiting for me to cry. “Here comes little Johnny and his overactive tear ducts, letting the Democrats beat him up.” “Boehner is the weakest speaker in history.” “Boehner’s a coward.” “Boehner just wants to drink his Merlot.” “Boehner just wants to hit the links and work on his tan.”

I hear what they’re saying. I have ears … I have feelings. I’m a human being. I’d like to see them try to deal with this mess. Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right … here I am … Go ahead and create your little video clips, Jon Stewart. Have your liberal laugh … But does a coward help raise his 11 siblings? Does a coward work his way through college? Does a coward survive an attempted coup by his own caucus? I’m still here. I’m still standing.

Why? Because I put up a fight. Because the Tea Party knows I’m not a pushover. Because the American people don’t want Obamacare … because the American people want fairness for all … for ALL. This is democracy. I have the gavel! The gavel is mine!