Limbaugh’s Last Discharge

Jobba The Rush
Thanksgiving for Comedian/Bloviator Rush Limbaugh wasn’t anything special— just his usual ugly and debased spewing.  To see his disgusting girth, you must click it.

From Barack Obama’s Thanksgiving Address:

A beloved American tradition, Thanksgiving Day offers us the opportunity to focus our thoughts on the grace that has been extended to our people and our country. This spirit brought together the newly arrived Pilgrims and the Wampanoag tribe — who had been living and thriving around Plymouth, Massachusetts for thousands of years — in an autumn harvest feast centuries ago. This Thanksgiving Day, we reflect on the compassion and contributions of Native Americans, whose skill in agriculture helped the early colonists survive, and whose rich culture continues to add to our Nation’s heritage. We also pause our normal pursuits on this day and join in a spirit of fellowship and gratitude for the year’s bounties and blessings.

Sorry, just not good enough— for that disgusting swine, Rush Limbaugh. In complete disregard for our nation’s traditions of thanks giving, the despicable corpulent bloviator lashed out at President Obama‘s Thanksgiving address, calling it “phoney,” and a “parody,” saying he thought somebody was trying to “slip one by him.”

Like that would be hard to do.

Limbaugh’s utter ignorance of history notwithstanding, his twisting of Obama’s reference to Tisquantum the Patuxet of the Wanpanoags, whose indispensable kindness towards the early Pilgrims helped them survive, reduces Limbaugh now and for all time to the animal level of existence.  He may be in a humanoid body, but from now on— he’s just a talking pig.*

Although this fat-assed, treasonous piece of shit deserves whatever horrible fate is certainly coming his way— whether that be a massive coronary, choking to death on a whole beef brisket stuck in his throat, or just your common every-day head explosion;  it doesn’t really matter, because he’s already dead.

The carcass that roils and flails in front of that golden microphone may represent the continuing momentum of a once-sentient creature, but his soul and spirit is clearly dead and gone, and his torpid and brutish flesh, marinated in the uncleanliness of a hoofed barnyard mammal, has begun to rot.

His ugliness is consuming him now, and we can only watch in disbelief even as his last verbal flailings degenerate into the most depraved and debased swill the walking dead can cough up.

So.  Until we are finally free of this… this humanoid pestilence, how shall I put this.
Fuck you, Limbaugh, you fucking fuck.

* Okay okay, I know i shouldn’t write angry;  but.


Prove you're human: leave a comment.