Monday, May 11, 2009

A Stone Cold Heart Can Also Be Broken


Most people sweat when they’re cornered, so it’s no mean feat to see most of the neo-cons who’ve risen in the past decade pissing their pants now that they’re out of power.


Arrogant ideologues are easily flustered because they do not know how to cope with losing.


They are either victor or martyr.


There is really no choice. They will either lose or they will throw tantrums. It’s no challenge, but it’s fun nevertheless.


I mean fuck, Mark Levin screams like the surviving abortion of a crazy homeless lady knocked up by a ‘50s sitcom dad even when he’s happy.


(Oh my fucking God, is he trying to look sexy in this picture?)


But when a cold, hard puppet master like Dick Cheney melts down, that’s when it’s time to break out the goddamn caviar.


If this fucking guy is rattled, then we really do have their fingers in our beltloops. (It’s a prison analogy, just roll with it.)


On Sunday, Cheney really showed his hand.


Going off on Colin Powell like that was that kind of strategic blunder that, had Karl Rove been at his side, never would’ve happened.


"If I had to choose in terms of being a Republican, I'd go with Rush Limbaugh. My take on it was Colin had already left the party. I didn't know he was still a Republican."


Wow, that is fucking bitter and awesome.


It’s like he’s a jilted ex-fuck-buddy.


He may have well have said, “You don’t want me anymore? After orchestrating two invasions of Iraq together, you can just walk away without feeling anything?”


And that’s when he pulls a hankie out of his brassiere dabs his eyes, streaking mascara and blows his nose with a loud fucking ‘honk’ that betrays his delicate femininity for the louse he is underneath.


I kept thinking about Don Corleone snapping at Sonny. “Never tell anyone outside the Family what you're thinking again!”


Although I’ve always pictured Cheney as more of a Sally than a Sonny. And Dick, for the record, that’s actually a compliment.


Abe Vigoda is fucking badass.


Also, Mr. Vigoda, please don't take offense. I only mean that the character Sally is amoral, calculating and traitorous. I didn't mean that you were a cunt of a douche like he is.


God, Abe Vigoda is awesome. They've made every other goddamn old TV show into a movie, why not Barney Miller. Let's get that ball rolling while Vigoda is still around to play Fish.


Okay, back to dickless Dick. He really let his guard down and now, all of us are left shaking our heads wondering, “Christ, is he telling us his feelings are hurt? On national television?”


Fuck, that was fun to watch.


Later, he complained that “the critics have free run, and there isn't anybody there on the other side to tell the truth."


Fuck me, could he be any whinier?


I’m pretty sure Jesus wouldn’t want me to gloat, so let’s hope he’s not reading this.


The truth is that because of the unbelievable hubris and corporate gluttony of the past eight years, the likes of which the world hasn’t seen since Rome, the neo-con movement is one collective flaccid cock.


And most of you know it and you know the fucktards you can thank for your impotence. (On a side-note, I think I've pretty much settled on 'fucktard' as my catchphrase. Well, catch-word.)


These past months, I’ve been relishing the sound of the words former President and former Vice President.


I say them to myself and peals of pleasure ripple down my tubby body.


Go ahead.


Try it.


Former.


Former.


Feel free to touch yourself a little bit when you say it. Our new leader wants us to enjoy our bodies.


I’m typing with one hand now.


Former.

Okay, now I have to go grab a wad of toilet paper.


Also, I already understand the irony of mocking dick-lips for letting us see him emotionally vulnerable and then sermonizing on the topic of my smug self-satisfaction-slash-touching.


So don’t bother pointing it out.


I’m also already aware that I just stole that last sentence from Sideshow Bob, so don’t point that out either.

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