Shaky Baby! Oh Sweet William! Yes, dear Hamlet!
“Marshal me to knavery. Let it work;
For tis the sport to have the
engineer Hoist with his own petard.”
In the minds of a few of us, William Shakespeare, was one of the Minor Prophets. Brothers and sisters, the above verse was a prophetic look into the future; a prophecy for our end-time. Don’t you see it? This passage has been fulfilled, before our very eyes, in that great radio evangelist, Rush Limbaugh.
Now, let us hang this bastard with his own petard. In the words of that great Southern comedian, Uncle Dave Gardner, (of blessed memory);
“When a man is down, kick the son of a bitch.
It will give him the incentive to rise above it.”
“Talent on loan from G-d.” Nay, methinks, it be talent on loan from oxy-contin. Ain’t got no pills; ain’t got no pillllls. Are you hearing what I’m saying? You ain’t hearing what I’m saying. Talk to me, Limbo, about family values, self responsibility, and them G-dless, dishonest Clintons. Say it ain’t so, Rush. Tell us that you are better than Hillary, Jesse, or a common back-alley, garbage-can-lid-rattling, homeless, drugged-up nigger.
And you always said, “…with half of my brain tied behind my back.” Tell us the condition of your brain, all these years. Which half was frying on drugs and could you have done a program without these mood/mind altering little darlings? When it got down to the ‘stems and seeds,’ as you addicts say, I thought your audience was on drugs, not you.
Rush, I truly believe that you had a calling. You were chosen to be a missionary to the mindless. And like far too many missionaries you turned out to be one of those that Mark Twain wrote about;
“They have a high regard for chastity, in others.”
Your mistress was, obviously, a cigar box full of drugs. In your belated confession, that came only after you got caught, you called them “prescription drugs.” No, no! Prescription drugs come from a doctor’s prescription and most times from a pharmacy. There are no “prescription drugs” or doctors around behind filling-stations and when they fill a prescription they put the drugs in a little bottle and the bottle in a neat little sack, never, ever, do they fill-up a cigar box and hand it to you. In a cigar box, bought from a pusher, they become illegal drugs.
Did you say "victim?" “I’m a victim of perscription drugs.” You disgusting mamzer! You’ve denied victimhood to some of the most victimized people in the history of the world, specifically, the much maligned Palestinians, the homeless, vets on drugs, the retarded etc.; these were the building blocks for your petard.
In a word, your confession sucked! Jimmy Swaggart set the standard and yours fell far short. We want to see some tears, some snot, some slobber! We want a wet, contrite, apology. Get on yo knees you son of a bitch and say it, say, I’ve sinned against G-d and the dumb masses, those crushed by drudgery, looking for a messiah, and only intermittently conscious of anything, those poor lovers of protected stupidity whom you enveloped in the fog of your sophomoric parodies, say it, bastard, I’ve sinned against my ditto-heads who, by some twist of fate, were entrusted to me!
Your followers, and the ‘me-too-Limbo-impersonators’ that you spawned, are rushing to your defense, especially, the village idiots at Fox News. Last night, Tony Snow (Snowowitz) said, “I don’t see how Rush kept his composure while he admitted being addicted.” Well, if you get a chance to call Tony, before they put that jacket on you and put you in a padded room, tell him that you “kept your composure” because you were drugging-it-up; that’s what drugs do!
Look, don’t worry about losing your fans. Your fans are the kind of people who, if they catch their wife screwing around, just tell her to wash-out and come on back home. I’ll bet you the farm that your ratings will sky rocket. Nobody ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American people.
They will never make you face the indignities of going to a common court, with common, garden variety druggies, but if it should happen, just tell them that you are one of those elite hypocrites from a long line of well loved, aristocratic, hypocrites. Perhaps, it started with St. Augustine;
Give me chastity and continency – but not yet.
Or you could mention, Francis Cardinal Spellman, who told me, when I was an adolescent, about how to date girls without sinning. Meanwhile, back at the church office, he was playing ‘hide the salami’ with his staff. Then there are Martin King Jr., Jimmy Swaggart, Jesse Jackson, Bill Bennet, Winnie Minny Mindooky Mandella, the Clintons, Ralph Abernathy, Dick Morris, Tricky Dick, Marian Berry, the Bush first daughters, the first niece, etc. etc.
So, let me be the first to say it -- wash-out, Rush, and come on back home.
Dr. James Floyd
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