Fuck these dysfunctional, insecure actresses. -- Tool, Ænema
Strange how all these sanctimonious, moralizing, self-styled smug professional "conservatives" frequently turn out to be exactly what they despise. Perhaps it's the political version of gay-for-pay. Doesn't matter. Just like Sportin' Life Bill Bennett, exhumed and rehabilitated as a color commentator for supposedly respectable journamalistic mediamators, Rash Limpballs will surely rise again, like the legendary phoenix from a ziploc full of illicit dope.
Limbaugh, accompanied by [his attorney Roy} Black, turned himself in about 4 p.m. Friday, was fingerprinted, photographed and released, said Palm Beach County sheriff's spokeswoman Teri Barbera.
He did not appear perturbed. "If you look at his picture, he has a smile on his face," she said.
Well, fucking duh, because he was lit like the goddamned Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree.
Look, I think it's obvious to any regular reader that I am essentially libertarian on such issues. I don't personally do drugs -- well, not anymore, anyway -- but I still believe in the God-given right of a sentient adult to indulge themselves as they please, so long as they stay home to do so, and not inflict themselves on an already dimwitted public. So my beef is not with Limbaugh's drug problem per se, it's his incessant moralizing and hectoring. Like his partner-in-rhyme Sportin' Life, Rush fails to have even enough basic moral backbone to take his lowlife hypocrite ass and skulk away, once and for all. It would be nice if just once, these self-appointed moral arbiters could dig deep and find the strength to shut the hell up.
Worse yet, their retard fans refuse to grab a clue and understand that they've been played like a Coney Island mark, and just turn off the political talk, go back to vegetating in front of Paula Abdul's Karaoke Hour, and let people who pay attention do the political thinkamatin'. It's not that complicated, people -- if you're not going to read a book or newspaper once in a while, and you're not going to live by the principles you try to ram down the rest of the world's collective throat, then fuck off already and go stuff yourself with nachos and pork rinds.
The news that Limbaugh, a savage critics of others' moral behavior, was addicted to drugs was taken as a sign of hypocrisy by his detractors. His friends and staunchest fans, however, said Limbaugh was merely working through the kinds of challenges that can affect anyone.
This is the best that Pravda could do in squaring Limpballs' incessant moral squawking with his shameless hypocrisy in the matter. And note the mealy-mouthed "[h]is friends and staunchest fans", without actually naming any. Nice touch. Again, no one's contesting that these "challenges" can and do "affect anyone"; the difference is that "anyone" has not made a career -- a quarter-billion dollar career, at that -- of high-handed sanctimony at the libertine lifestyles and lax morals of drug users, who are always, always, hedonistic sybarite godless amoral liberals.
So, you know, fuck you Limbaugh. Fuck your high horse, fuck your moralizing, fuck your inability to keep a woman happy, fuck your incessant lecturing to similar immature morons about morals which neither they -- nor you -- really give two shits about. Fuck your hillbilly heroin, fuck your hypocrisy, fuck your louche political worldview.
2 comments:
I want six fast rounds with that guy. As far as I'm concerned, being someone who has way more "challenges" than a bad back because I'm carrying around a huge Molson Muscle, he doesn't know shit about pain, and even if he does, he's got no business breaking the law and then using his megaphone to influence public opinion against people who break the law in the same way (but aren't white or rich or both).
My parents used to watch his tv show back in the 90s, and even then I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face with a brick.
wipe the smirk off his face with a brick.
That's an excellent phrase. I will probably steal it at some future point. Hopefully I'll remember to attribute it properly.
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