Monday, March 05, 2012

This Just In: Disgusting Misogynist is a Disgusting Misogynist!

I bought the above bumper sticker at the GLBT emporium Heffalumps of St. Louis sometime in the mid-nineties while on one of my many trips to visit my dear high school friend Angela (an SLU student at the time). Angela lived in the Central West End (the coolest neighborhood in St. Louis---besides U-City) and Heffalumps was right around the corner from her apartment. The sticker in the photo is one I pulled from the web, since the one I have is gathering dust in a box somewhere. In hindsight (pun intended), I’m glad I kept it in a box instead of affixing it to the bumper of my beloved little ’88 Corolla (same size as a clown car, so cute, so me, but dead as a doornail since 1999), not for fear that I would’ve offended anyone, but fear that either myself and/or my Corolla would have gotten the crap kicked/keyed out of me/it for sporting an anti-Limbaugh sentiment while doing time at the corporate hellholes where I slaved in the Clinton-hating Indianapolis suburbs.

But enough nostalgia for one day. What I really came here to do is to simply ask everyone—Liberals, Conservatives, Tea-baggers, Libertarians, all y’all—-can we please stop acting like Rush Limbaugh is someone to whom we should be paying attention? And can we please, please, pretty-please-with-OxyContin-on-top quit pretending that he is something other than just another bloated, miserable, misogynistic Republican closet case? That way, when he does something completely predictable like call Sandra Fluke a slut and a prostitute, we can all just laugh and say “Hahahaha, remember when that asshole had a talk show? And the same five mouth-breathing dildos would call him up daily just to snicker like Beavis and agree with whatever small-minded, racist, misogynistic comment he’d just made? Thank God those days are over.”

Seriously people, it’s not that far-fetched. Not at all. We can send Rush off his long overdue retirement with a suitcase of hillbilly heroin, Cuban cigars, and enough forged-prescription Viagara to keep some Dominican rentboy employed for a long, long time. It’s a win/win situation: we’d be helping to boost the economy of a third-world country and we’d never ever have to hear anything from this gross fat fuck ever again. So write, email, call, and harangue the few remaining sponsors of his imbecilic show and tell them to pull their heads out of his fat ass—along with their ads—and nudge this has-been closer toward sweet oblivion.

"Get me some Oxy, fool!"

Let’s make it happen.

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