A Return To Normalcy

Does anyone else find it just a wee bit unseemly that the public lamentation over Senator Three-Months-Suspended went on longer than that for Mother Goddamn Theresa? It went on so long, and the pwoggie blogs became so desperate for something, anything to post about Sainted Senator DateRape, that they started eating each other. Alas, a pwog was nibbling Shake-A-Puddin. Balk the Left was snacking on Diggly Wiggly. Yuck! Seriously, I've seen zombie movies with less cannibalism.

Well, finally it looks like some of our fauxgressive friends have successfully blogged their way through their grief and are moving on other important issues. Pwogman!, for instance, has used his super-duper powers of pwoggie reasoning to come to the startling conclusion that the Washington Post may not be quite the bastion of impartial journalism he thought it was. Heavens to Murgatroyd! The NewsPwoggers, Gesundheit and Shakey have gone back to playing "Lookit the Wingnuts." And even Mo'Betta Bowers has gone back to making empty threats to his masters over the healthcare debacle. (Relax, Chris! You'll get some kind of shitty "public option" you can fob off on your moron followers as "the greatest progressive victory ever in the history of history" or some such nonsense.)

Let's just hope that some other antediluvian scumbag doesn't keel over for awhile. Anybody know how Bob Byrd is doing?

In Praise of Dead Creeps

The Lame Pundit (artists conception)

Another day, another brick in the boot-lick demotard alter to Senator Wormfood. While our troops bravely machinegun medical clinics in The Good War, let's see what nauseating paeans our faugressive friends have penned to their Sainted Senator...

Alas, a pwog - Finally joining the chorus of perpetually kneeling sore-throated psalm singers, Alas scores only a 2.5 on the Craven Toadying Meter. Celebrate the crumbs, excuse away the crimes, this one's been done already, Jeff. Better luck next time.

Balk the Left - Fellating a dead man has made Big Turd Democrat go a little hoarse. He's been reduced to cribbing from DNC rag La Nation and relying on his bloggie minions.

Diggly Wiggly - The one-stop-shop for all things groveling continues it's worshipful coverage by examining, in mind-numbingly boring detail, every single fucking vote their Sainted Senator ever cast. Well, all except the inconvenient ones, of course.

Gesundheit - Brahmin Atrios, who can't be bothered to cease contemplating his navel, shits out a sublime link or two for his do-nothing lackeys to chorus "First!" over. Then its back to 'Ommoneypadmebankaccount...'

NewsPwoggers - The political commisar at NP is slacking off today, allowing his demotards to play catchup with the rest of us on energy issues. (Don't worry, though. There's zero chance of them actually doing anything about it.) Get with it, Stevie!

Obot Left - The fortress of fauxliberal fainthearts have started referring to Senator DateRape as "EMK." No, I'm not kidding.

Pandadroppings - Amanda eschews another round of corpse fondling to address the world-shaking comos-threatening crisis that is - long waits at airports! Oh, the humanity!

Pwogman! - The Superhero of Spinelessness sidles up to the grave and gets all wonky into it. Eeeewww!

Shake-A-Puddin - It's hard for this collection of shut-ins, cultists and self-help addicts to stay focused on anything outside of their intarweb commune, but Shakey gives it the old college try.

Lamey - Despite the best slobbering efforts at Obot Left, Lamey takes todays prize for Best Effort to Sodomize a Corpse. (It should be noted that Lamey has the worst case of Short Man's Disease since J. Edgar Hoover, which is how he manages to define alcoholism, vehicular homicide and rape as being "manly.") Way to go, Lamey!

"It would have been possible to find things out."

Sometimes people ask me what's the difference is between do-nothing pwogs like MoBetta / Diggly / etc and dirty greenie hippies. I generally send them here.

Motherfuck him AND John Wayne

1940 - 1969

Massa's in de cold cold ground.

As dozens are murdered in their foreign wars of conquest and occupation, let's check in on our stable of merit class delusional sycophants and watch them compete with each other over who can grovel the most abjectly at the dead feet of one of their massively over-privileged elites.

Balk the Left - Big Head Demotard takes the lead, praising the crumbs they were thrown and wishing that each and every member of the "Progressive Block" in the house were as big a drunk as their fallen fearless leader in the Senate. Sob.

Diggly Wiggly - Fondly remembers her master saying something nice about her boyfriend. (For real hilarity, check out the ass kissing in the comments!)

NewsPwoggers - As the most coldly rational and really realistic realists of the pwoggie bloggie crackpot realists, the Newspwoggers uncharacteristically recommend a weepy, schmaltzy, utterly unconvincing rationalization of the Kopechne murder. (Did you know ol' rat bastard Joe had Rosemary lobotomized? Who gives a fuck, pwog?)

Obot Left - Performing an act of necrophilia that would have made Ed Gein say: 'Oh, hey, just wait a minute now!', Mike "Left of the Left" Lux does things to "The Greatest American Senator Ever in the History of Ever" and, well, it's too...no...I can't describe...Aaaaauuuugh! My eyes!

Pandadroppings - After 'Left Left' Lux's disgusting act of degradation, Amanda's simpering comes almost as a relief.

Pwogman! - Stevie D tries to out disgust 'Left Left' Lux...and fails.

Shake-A-Puddin - Ya know, as servile a bunch of limp noodle personality cultists as the "Shakies" are, you'd think they could do better than this pathetic, hackneyed excuse for a eulogy. I'm mean, the best this moron can come up with is tearily quoting lines from "Camelot." No, really, fucking "Camelot!"

Lamey - Not only does this rightwing Regan democrat dipshit think the sun shines out of his God-Emperor's ass, he lists JEDI among his master's massive achievements. He even links to the fucking Heritage Foundation. Yes, Lamey really is the face of the democrat "left."

"Down in de pwoggie blogs
Hear dat mournful sound:
All de demotards am a weeping,
Massa's in de cold, cold ground."

(As public grieving has become the new spectator sport for couch potato webtards, I've no doubt that this perfect storm of sycophantic crap in honor of Senator Wormfood has only just started, dear readers. Stay tuned!)

(Update: For a good example of pwoggie rationalization at work, go watch the crew at Alas! tie themselves in knots trying to make excuses for Senator DateRape. I personally like the "Well, he lost his chance to be president! Isn't that punishment enough?" argument. Hilarity!)

"I'll give you such a pinch!"

Partisan propeller-head Big Head Demotard raises his tiny fist of defiance to liberal chickenhawk Michael Tomasky's assertion that the faugressive wing which BTD thinks he represents (speaking only for himself, though.) must fall in behind the God-Emperor's craptastic health insurance reform no matter how craptastic it is.

Dontcha just love it when over-privileged merit-school kids get into a slap fight? It's like watching Joe Besser duke it out with Paul Rubens. Don't worry, though. They'll be BFFs again in time for the next election.

(Update: Pwogman! swoops in to the rescue, fucks the corpses of FDR and LBJ simultaneously and sides with nobody. From this one can see why pwogwessive support is so valuable. Thanks, Pwogman!)

It's good to be the Queen

In the most patronizing way imaginable, Shake-A-Puddin has come down from on high to gift the unwashed masses with her banhammer policy. It's thick going, to say the least. Most of it seems to be predicated on the notion that only a chorus of harmonious pwoggieness can bring enlightenment to us lowly proles. It also has something to do with "Kyriarchy" which, as near as I can tell, is an old Mister Mister song. Otherwise the whole thing is couched in the superior sort of tone one finds particular to the most self-righteous sort of Women's Studies majors, neocons and bible fellowship teachers.

Here's a hint, Shakey. One doesn't have to be "the thought police" when one surrounds herself with butt-slurping toadies.