Eight years of shitty Republican governance sure goes by fast when your chilling on Oxycontin and getting pinched for the illicit possession of Viagra in a third world country. I guess all of those illegally acquired prescription pills must have sent you into the mother-of-all hibernations. Or perhaps you went on a little eight year journey in search of your soul, and of course, came up empty-handed.
What in the hell got you to crawl back out from under that rock? Nancy Pelosi as Speaker of the House? Harry Reid as Majority Leader in the Senate? Was it watching televised same sex marriages take place in the Northeast while you were sporting a three Viagra erection?
No, of course not. It was the election of Barack Obama, and gasp- not only is Barack a Democrat, but he’s black, and he’s from the Daley-fueled infernos of Chicago!
Limbaugh and his band of nutty neocons finally have the highest of all political figures to chat about and malign. The thinly-veiled racism of Rush has come back with a muted flourish now that he and his fourteen million Neanderthal listeners can dig their pressed, white sheets out of the closet (of course, one-third of all Republican males were already in there) and call once again for the White Male Revolution.
Rush Theater is back in business, and the lobotomized right-wingers are lining up in droves to buy tickets. He even looks like the old Rush, fat as hell and fun-tanned. I guess the brief version of the slimmed down bozo came to an end when he discovered that Oxycontin gives you the munchies worse then getting high in a rusting Cavalier while sitting in the parking lot of the local Pizza Hut.
After a brief monologue of unadulterated, narcissistic self love, Rush opens his new production to the mad applause of five hundred white males in cheap suits, nine sheep, and a shady-looking character named Doctor E. Rection.
Act One: “I hope he fails (President Obama).”
Rush wants the country to die a slow, four year death, because unemployed white guys don’t have anything better to do than to listen to Rush Limbaugh. Higher unemployment means higher advertising rates for all of the pharmaceutical companies who target his audience of flaccid, heart-troubled goobers.
Act Two: The Emasculation of RNC Chairman Michael Steele.
Thirty days into his chairmanship of a party that is crawling around the front yard looking for that lucky Budweiser pull-tab, Steele had the misfortune of telling CNN Host D.L. Hughley that Limbaugh is an entertainer. Rush immediately went on the offensive and twenty-four hours later had Steele groveling at his feet. I guess this Republican Icon's new moniker should be “Rush Limbaugh of Nazareth.”
Act Three: “Before it's all over, it'll be called the Ted Kennedy Memorial Health Care Bill."
This comment was made in reference to the proposed health care revisions anticipated by the Obama Administration. Senator Edward Kennedy is fighting a debilitating battle with brain cancer, and Rush Limbaugh is a compassionless prick.
“Rush is da man!”
“Rush is Right!”
The production ends with loud roars of applause as the genetically challenged audience gives their God-King a standing ovation while collectively wondering if Avacor makes a magic pill that will repopulate the pubic hair on their itchy, wrinkled ball sacks.
Keep up the good work, Rush. Keep talking and keep loving yourself. The Tony Awards are only three and a half months away…
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