Monday, January 8, 2018

A Letter From Josh Duggar Inviting His Fellow Sexual Predators To A Barbecue

I submitted this to McSweeneys and they did not want it and that is shocking because it is v v good.

Hey there,

I would like to formally invite you to a barbecue at noon Saturday in my Arkansas backyard.

If you don’t know who I am, let me fix that. I am Josh Duggar, oldest of the Duggar clan. You might remember me as the guy from Arkansas who felt up his sisters, but if that doesn’t narrow it down, a tabloid also found out I was on Ashley Madison looking to cheat on my sweet wife, Anna, who I sometimes accidentally call Mom.
But that’s all in the past and even though my little sisters still aren’t talking to me and TLC canceled my family’s reality show, I’m looking to move forward. I know how difficult it is to be where you are now. America hates you; your family hates you; your wife hates you; your children hate you — but I don’t. I think once you meet me at this barbecue I’m putting on, you’ll believe me.

I don’t want you to feel pressured to bring anything to the barbecue or even grill anything. I’ll handle all of that. I want it to be pretty laid-back. I’m thinking just some men, who have been widely misunderstood, will get together. Maybe we chat over the grill about all the different ways to say ‘I’m sorry’ in 140 characters? Maybe we can play cornhole while discussing different ways to make sure there is an open and inclusive environment for similar men in our shoes? These are just some ideas.

And while I don’t want you to feel the need to bring any sodas or hot dog buns, it would help a lot if you brought a Bible. You see, I told Anna (hands off, fellas!) this was a barbecue for the men’s group at church. I really can’t have her finding out I’m sneaking around on her again. My wife has stuck with me through everything. I mean, without an education past home-schooled high school, she can’t start a car, much less leave me, so it’s not exactly a miracle, but I really need to not tick her off again.

But, listen, the prop Bibles at the barbecue won’t last long. Anna leaves right after noon for a class on how to make long denim skirts, so as soon as her butt-length curly hair is out of sight (sorry for the language), we can start discussing all the ways to get back at Megyn Kelly.

I hope you can make it to the barbecue. Consider this letter the beginning of a long and fruitful friendship.

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