In Honour of Veteran's Day,
Tush, the Scary Pimp-a-null,
Star of the Egregiously Ignorant Bigots,
Tipped by a ditto re: a Gr.4 teacher's,
Pre 11/11/11,
In-class discussion of All Vets,
Including those Vets who 'object' to War,
Rushed in, to diddle the kiddies, again.
Again, Lying, again, about every aspect,
Of (again) a non "Story," again, this AM,
Lush's crowing, again, about his success,
Fucking the children,
AGAIN.
What gushes, from da Tush,
Is just desserts, for dittos.
Butt, haven't we a general concensus, +
Much settled LAW, in re:
Repetitive, Vicarious, Viscious,
Fucking, of Children, (for profit)?
Come North for the fishing, Mush,
Bring pesty Tom, don't delay,
Bring Dead-eye Dick, bring Shrub,
Rub-a-dub, eh!
Re-apportioning, v. big in this district.
We have some rusty cans, +
Foxes, aplenty.
Many interesting off-sites, dark trails,
Cubanos, Yanqui script, at par.
American plans, nice rooms,
Great boarding,
Delighted to show you the ropes.
Showing posts with label Fools Rush In. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fools Rush In. Show all posts
Monday, November 12, 2007
Thursday, November 1, 2007
"Bush Throws Down! On Tubesters!"
A Brief Synopsis: Today:
Run-aroun'-Sooey, again gave us,
"The 'Spee'acha" (#2873+counting) regurgitated
Grimly, sans brio, ad sominum, to some
Hemi-demi-semi quavers, nary a Hooha,
At the "F.U. Farley,
WE GOTOURS GETTIN' MORE
Con Club, Social Luncheon," IO/RSVP.
("Premium" washroom passes, dance lessons,
lemony moist, hot towels, O/S at coat-check,
No cheques or plastic, SVP)
"Let's put 'em together for some Hocus Pocus
"Diddlyocus, from Yr. very own SCOTUS POTUS!"
Buckeroos yahoo, prelim swaggers+smirks,
Pursing, squinting, "Ah, Howdy Folks,
"Ah'm h'ar tuh tol' Ya, agin'" moue,
"9/11, here, not there, 9/11,
"Blue Meanies! 9/11
"War there, not here, 9/11,
"War costs, gimme! 9/11,
"Hey, be us? You betcha, 9/11
"Advise+Consent? fuggit'er,
"9/11, Me Decider, 9/11,
"U STFU!" 9/11.
"Ya don' like it, U Flockkers?
"Condi's pal Gitmo's sum ol' be'atch!
"We gots, ah, broads, boards, sumthin'
"Not jus' fer surfin' See!
"Volley ball nets, an' everthang,
"Heh, heh, heh, Huh? Who? ME?"
Jesus, wearying of the stretch drive,
Usually batting clean-up for the Lone Ranger,
Was a late scratch so, the game changed.(QED)
"Ummmmmm, that right, Kemosabe."
"U hold the bag, Pronto."
Just a long fairway wood, awful lie!
Wet rough, katabatic gale coming from
"Amen Corner,"
You can SEE the artificial flowers,
Hear the painted creek, RaeJay!
SMELL the $$$!
"Goin' fer'er! Ma!" comme l'habitude,
Our own Doofus, Dizzy(The Don)Dublya,
(or nuttin' fer all 'yas)
Crooks+squints, wiggles his (g)assets,
Purses+puckers, preens+.. When,
Red Alert: New Targets on the Range,
Cheney on trap. Pull!
Dub's flying flail, a slap-shot style,
Swinggg-gana... boomerang slice at: "Three!"
1/MoveOn.org=Hitler,
Well natch, everybody knows, now.
For Oh'Rileee tol'em so.[yeh'ass Jay'sus]
2/Code Pink!=Lenin Sisters? As if!
Some L.Welk fans took this as a diss,
To their gruntles, a bubble breaker.
Some standard boiler-plate, 'Quisling Dems,'
Nothing on DixChix, or the "Funny" little knots,
Laying around, lying lately, locally.
"Looting=Democracy" right Rummy?
"Comment ca va, vous vacances,
"Dans La Belle, Vieille France?
"See Simon, we only lash, to a degree.
"Gotta stress 'at position."
(We all, da nigras, on dis' planetation, Folks)
3/All us plumbers, in those "Tubes"
Augering in the steamy stables of
Lies+Disasters, over and over, still! yet!
A Two-Bit, Urban, Texan Dope,
Back Cursading, Children.
Speaking of a nice fables,
There's a Gorey Story
About many, happy, little bugs,
Some blue, some red, some yellow beset,
By a BIG SAD/BAD ONE.
So one day, out on their constitutional,
They say, "Let's Roll" for
"Life, Liberty, Truth, Justice and
"The 'American Way' to go Boyz."
Mohandas, ended the British Imperial Raj,
For hundreds of millions,
With a handful of salt.
Let the Pubics wonder+fret,
"Would a Moose Lick Lot's Wife." Yeah?
"First, they ignore U, Then they laugh at U,
"Then they fight U
"+Then, U Win."
Mahatma coat! (goldie quip, author?) Gandi-ji.
Aweigh, Me Hearties! We'll 'ave yon sillycons!
"'Taint enow't, to breast the Cape,
"She's still a far, fair piece,
"From Table Bay, to hot Hormuz!
"Ready'er, to 'Slip+Proceed'"
(Note to Trekkies: 'S+P' Way mo'betta, "Engage?")
Run-aroun'-Sooey, again gave us,
"The 'Spee'acha" (#2873+counting) regurgitated
Grimly, sans brio, ad sominum, to some
Hemi-demi-semi quavers, nary a Hooha,
At the "F.U. Farley,
WE GOTOURS GETTIN' MORE
Con Club, Social Luncheon," IO/RSVP.
("Premium" washroom passes, dance lessons,
lemony moist, hot towels, O/S at coat-check,
No cheques or plastic, SVP)
"Let's put 'em together for some Hocus Pocus
"Diddlyocus, from Yr. very own SCOTUS POTUS!"
Buckeroos yahoo, prelim swaggers+smirks,
Pursing, squinting, "Ah, Howdy Folks,
"Ah'm h'ar tuh tol' Ya, agin'" moue,
"9/11, here, not there, 9/11,
"Blue Meanies! 9/11
"War there, not here, 9/11,
"War costs, gimme! 9/11,
"Hey, be us? You betcha, 9/11
"Advise+Consent? fuggit'er,
"9/11, Me Decider, 9/11,
"U STFU!" 9/11.
"Ya don' like it, U Flockkers?
"Condi's pal Gitmo's sum ol' be'atch!
"We gots, ah, broads, boards, sumthin'
"Not jus' fer surfin' See!
"Volley ball nets, an' everthang,
"Heh, heh, heh, Huh? Who? ME?"
Jesus, wearying of the stretch drive,
Usually batting clean-up for the Lone Ranger,
Was a late scratch so, the game changed.(QED)
"Ummmmmm, that right, Kemosabe."
"U hold the bag, Pronto."
Just a long fairway wood, awful lie!
Wet rough, katabatic gale coming from
"Amen Corner,"
You can SEE the artificial flowers,
Hear the painted creek, RaeJay!
SMELL the $$$!
"Goin' fer'er! Ma!" comme l'habitude,
Our own Doofus, Dizzy(The Don)Dublya,
(or nuttin' fer all 'yas)
Crooks+squints, wiggles his (g)assets,
Purses+puckers, preens+.. When,
Red Alert: New Targets on the Range,
Cheney on trap. Pull!
Dub's flying flail, a slap-shot style,
Swinggg-gana... boomerang slice at: "Three!"
1/MoveOn.org=Hitler,
Well natch, everybody knows, now.
For Oh'Rileee tol'em so.[yeh'ass Jay'sus]
2/Code Pink!=Lenin Sisters? As if!
Some L.Welk fans took this as a diss,
To their gruntles, a bubble breaker.
Some standard boiler-plate, 'Quisling Dems,'
Nothing on DixChix, or the "Funny" little knots,
Laying around, lying lately, locally.
"Looting=Democracy" right Rummy?
"Comment ca va, vous vacances,
"Dans La Belle, Vieille France?
"See Simon, we only lash, to a degree.
"Gotta stress 'at position."
(We all, da nigras, on dis' planetation, Folks)
3/All us plumbers, in those "Tubes"
Augering in the steamy stables of
Lies+Disasters, over and over, still! yet!
A Two-Bit, Urban, Texan Dope,
Back Cursading, Children.
Speaking of a nice fables,
There's a Gorey Story
About many, happy, little bugs,
Some blue, some red, some yellow beset,
By a BIG SAD/BAD ONE.
So one day, out on their constitutional,
They say, "Let's Roll" for
"Life, Liberty, Truth, Justice and
"The 'American Way' to go Boyz."
Mohandas, ended the British Imperial Raj,
For hundreds of millions,
With a handful of salt.
Let the Pubics wonder+fret,
"Would a Moose Lick Lot's Wife." Yeah?
"First, they ignore U, Then they laugh at U,
"Then they fight U
"+Then, U Win."
Mahatma coat! (goldie quip, author?) Gandi-ji.
Aweigh, Me Hearties! We'll 'ave yon sillycons!
"'Taint enow't, to breast the Cape,
"She's still a far, fair piece,
"From Table Bay, to hot Hormuz!
"Ready'er, to 'Slip+Proceed'"
(Note to Trekkies: 'S+P' Way mo'betta, "Engage?")
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
"Oh that "Tush," He's such a "Taser"
Other than Hillarious attempts at playground slander there is so much else to admire on the Egregiously Ignomous Bigot's flagwave.
The fauning, obsequious little "dittos" and the Merchandising!
Lush lets anyone buy stuff 24/7, but to get the "High Test Oxy" (info) ya gotta pay the price, join the grope.
Starring Himself,in many (dis)guises, all of which, evidently, greatly appeals to those diminishing remnants of Rove's rubes, who unhand their serpents,(just {long} enough), to sticky up that radio dial daily.
A particular crowd pleaser is hiss cloyingly, cute repetitive coda, "You musth remember thiss, a lissp is just a diss."
"Hot Dang Enid, I swear when he talks thuh baby-talk ah'm like to widdle ma britches.
Did thuh 'ammo miles' from Chuck at ther NRA, come in yet?
No Sugar, yer a tad young to rassle the rat'lers, but iffen Yr. a good little gal, y'all are gonna play with the Woodcock, later."
Would you talk like that to Yr. best hunting bitch? (QED)
In the carny of conceit that comprises the prancing pissant pundits all the mirrors were one way, until anyone (even old sailors!) could tap into the Mojo Wire, and anyone else could listen.
Lush Bimbo, Ayn(L.)Colder, Shun Honesty and Bogside Billy et al use exactly the same M.O. and (yet) they thrive+survive in a climate of constant TV forensic fables, ees a puzzlement, eh Anna?
See(S.I.), all these shows celebrate opportunity, weapons and motives.
It's simple, "Like the periodic table, my dear Watson."
And there's no jizz like show bizz for these eager egoists.
Conflict sells soap, so high voltage teasers with tasers are in great demand, that's the oppo.
As to weapons, how can we count the ways?
Impervious to the delicate shafts of wit that characterize civil, adult discussion and argument, they showcase the sandbox, celebrate the stereotype, do the hokey-pokey, slander all and sundry, turn it all about, ridicule responsibility and generally hurl their fricative, fictitious feces all around the Mayberry, Bush.
Scent marking for sanctimonious syncophants.
Intellectually undescended, (like testicles, unlike monkeys) their game depends, (like a full diaper) on suspended disbelief and the fact that their listeners are all co-celebrants in the Church of Me First.
These sad simpltons are as unlikely to suss out syllogistic spam as they are to rectify their own undistributed middles.
Three wild guesses at the motive, anyone?
Peut-etre, Beaucoup d'Argent? D'accord.
The Petreaus caption was neither witty nor germane and prima facie infra dig. but happily for the hate mongers, it lowered (as improbable as that seems) the ongoing debate,( War!, More War? or Somewhat Less War?) right back to the G.O.P. (briar) patch.
("Peace" of course, never, never, occurs to anyone, except in a collateral way, like when they're kilt.)
The Gory Odious Pubic "Patch" ain't Br'er Rabbit's happy habitat.
It's B.F.S.'s Box, stale+reeking with lumpy Limbo litter (Watch out Tony, it's dark and sticky in there).
Let's all move on and leave them in it.
"The woods are dark and deep, and we have miles to
Update: 3 Oct. 07
Today, in a scintillating retort to those nitpicking blogwits who had the temerity to wonder if a redacted transcript was more useful evidence than say EYES+EARS! Shush (Yo mouf) Lumbago allowed the whole story was a mere tech glitch between+among Snerdly, Himself, reaching backwards whilst multi-tasking on air and... wait for it, THE PRINTER.
Well Gush, we've all been there.
Rosemary Woods would be proud.
What Dots?
Ctrl>Alt>Delete/ LoBatt/ ZZZZZZZ
Update: 7 Oct. 07
Tush's latest salvo: Decorated, wounded, BushWar veterans who prefer Peace to War are treasonous, suicide bombers who have been "Manchurianed" by Hillary et al.
Tune in tomorrow (")'s, as he sets the bar even lower.
With Lush Limbo to guide you, who knows how low you can go?
The fauning, obsequious little "dittos" and the Merchandising!
Lush lets anyone buy stuff 24/7, but to get the "High Test Oxy" (info) ya gotta pay the price, join the grope.
Starring Himself,in many (dis)guises, all of which, evidently, greatly appeals to those diminishing remnants of Rove's rubes, who unhand their serpents,(just {long} enough), to sticky up that radio dial daily.
A particular crowd pleaser is hiss cloyingly, cute repetitive coda, "You musth remember thiss, a lissp is just a diss."
"Hot Dang Enid, I swear when he talks thuh baby-talk ah'm like to widdle ma britches.
Did thuh 'ammo miles' from Chuck at ther NRA, come in yet?
No Sugar, yer a tad young to rassle the rat'lers, but iffen Yr. a good little gal, y'all are gonna play with the Woodcock, later."
Would you talk like that to Yr. best hunting bitch? (QED)
In the carny of conceit that comprises the prancing pissant pundits all the mirrors were one way, until anyone (even old sailors!) could tap into the Mojo Wire, and anyone else could listen.
Lush Bimbo, Ayn(L.)Colder, Shun Honesty and Bogside Billy et al use exactly the same M.O. and (yet) they thrive+survive in a climate of constant TV forensic fables, ees a puzzlement, eh Anna?
See(S.I.), all these shows celebrate opportunity, weapons and motives.
It's simple, "Like the periodic table, my dear Watson."
And there's no jizz like show bizz for these eager egoists.
Conflict sells soap, so high voltage teasers with tasers are in great demand, that's the oppo.
As to weapons, how can we count the ways?
Impervious to the delicate shafts of wit that characterize civil, adult discussion and argument, they showcase the sandbox, celebrate the stereotype, do the hokey-pokey, slander all and sundry, turn it all about, ridicule responsibility and generally hurl their fricative, fictitious feces all around the Mayberry, Bush.
Scent marking for sanctimonious syncophants.
Intellectually undescended, (like testicles, unlike monkeys) their game depends, (like a full diaper) on suspended disbelief and the fact that their listeners are all co-celebrants in the Church of Me First.
These sad simpltons are as unlikely to suss out syllogistic spam as they are to rectify their own undistributed middles.
Three wild guesses at the motive, anyone?
Peut-etre, Beaucoup d'Argent? D'accord.
The Petreaus caption was neither witty nor germane and prima facie infra dig. but happily for the hate mongers, it lowered (as improbable as that seems) the ongoing debate,( War!, More War? or Somewhat Less War?) right back to the G.O.P. (briar) patch.
("Peace" of course, never, never, occurs to anyone, except in a collateral way, like when they're kilt.)
The Gory Odious Pubic "Patch" ain't Br'er Rabbit's happy habitat.
It's B.F.S.'s Box, stale+reeking with lumpy Limbo litter (Watch out Tony, it's dark and sticky in there).
Let's all move on and leave them in it.
"The woods are dark and deep, and we have miles to
Update: 3 Oct. 07
Today, in a scintillating retort to those nitpicking blogwits who had the temerity to wonder if a redacted transcript was more useful evidence than say EYES+EARS! Shush (Yo mouf) Lumbago allowed the whole story was a mere tech glitch between+among Snerdly, Himself, reaching backwards whilst multi-tasking on air and... wait for it, THE PRINTER.
Well Gush, we've all been there.
Rosemary Woods would be proud.
What Dots?
Ctrl>Alt>Delete/ LoBatt/ ZZZZZZZ
Update: 7 Oct. 07
Tush's latest salvo: Decorated, wounded, BushWar veterans who prefer Peace to War are treasonous, suicide bombers who have been "Manchurianed" by Hillary et al.
Tune in tomorrow (")'s, as he sets the bar even lower.
With Lush Limbo to guide you, who knows how low you can go?
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Sticks+Stones
The best part of Rush Limbo's (How low can you go?) daily entertainment is the lisping baby talk he affects to denigrate the "Enemy," particularily anyone or thing however remotely associated with the "Democrat" party although ees a puzzlement how a descriptive invoking handsome cabriolets is pejoritive, but that's his enduring charm, being not even wrong and putting the cart before the mule.
This (s)talking point has outlived the once robust "Upper"down vote which was quietly retired at midnight on '03 Nov. '06.
Although there's much bleating over this presumed canard, by progressive English majors everywhere, none of the ripostes in the blogisphere seem quite, le mot juste, here's a suggestion.
Grand(ios) certainly, Old (White+male) you bet, but Party (Not much fun); let's call them the Pubics.
Short, catchy and redolent of that portion of the body politic fundamental to all fundamentalists.
Whaddaya, whaddaya?
Update: 03Sept07
Lush Bimbo reprised KKKarl's recent show+tell for dittoheads+wingnuts on the EIB (Egregiously Ignorant Bigots) network today.
Among the usual curious assertions was the startling news that Turd Blossom, an autodidact, had bested the Scholar (Yale+Harvard) in a hard fought Reading contest!
Who-da-thunk-it!
Shut Yr. mouf and pet a goat!
This (s)talking point has outlived the once robust "Upper"down vote which was quietly retired at midnight on '03 Nov. '06.
Although there's much bleating over this presumed canard, by progressive English majors everywhere, none of the ripostes in the blogisphere seem quite, le mot juste, here's a suggestion.
Grand(ios) certainly, Old (White+male) you bet, but Party (Not much fun); let's call them the Pubics.
Short, catchy and redolent of that portion of the body politic fundamental to all fundamentalists.
Whaddaya, whaddaya?
Update: 03Sept07
Lush Bimbo reprised KKKarl's recent show+tell for dittoheads+wingnuts on the EIB (Egregiously Ignorant Bigots) network today.
Among the usual curious assertions was the startling news that Turd Blossom, an autodidact, had bested the Scholar (Yale+Harvard) in a hard fought Reading contest!
Who-da-thunk-it!
Shut Yr. mouf and pet a goat!
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