Thursday, November 23, 2006

86... 41 and 43... hike

(Yeah, really straining to come up with a pseudo-football-related head on National Eating Day)

Jurassic Pork takes umbrage at those criticizing Dear Leader:

And, after all, how dare any one, especially an unwashed Middle Easterner, impugn the abilities of a person who’s had everything handed to him on a platinum fucking platter by Daddy and his buddies? Just because a man is given a legacy grant to two Ivy League universities, a spot on the Texas Air National Guard protecting the Lone Star State from tumbleweeds blowing across from Oklahoma so he could stay out of Vietnam, an easy discharge with no record detailing said discharge, a start up company that blows up in his face like a chemistry set, is rescued by a fellow Texas Air National Guard fuckup who then gives him an even bigger chemistry set to blow up, more of Daddy’s buddies like Mr. Rove who tell him what to say and how to say it and finally the presidency of the United States with the help of more of Daddy’s friends with the black robes wielding the only votes that matter during an election…

As usual, go read the whole thing.

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