Rick Santorum Clowns and Pounds the Republican Trail

Anybody could have predicted this from Rick Santorum. Any time one of these donkey-slapping clowns gets an ‘attaboy’ from the caucus [(def) ‘Attaboy’: We avoided the bigger clown], he fires up an exploding cigar. These guys cannot stand success:

“This is a president who, just recently, in this Hosanna-Tabor case was basically making the argument that Catholics had to, you know, maybe even had to go so far as to hire women priests to comply with employment discrimination issues. This is a very hostile president to people of faith. He’s a hostile president, not just to people of faith, but to all freedoms.”

The president demands female priests. I think he’ll have the freedoms, please, in a scramble a la’ martinet. This makes absolutely no sense, so it must be true. If the president tied his shoes, Rick Santorum would know he just got lynched. He’s such a wuss, I’m pretty sure I could will him to pee his shorts. That makes sense. Therefore, your honor, little Ricky’s soggy bottom notwithstanding, it is a lie.

Now that we’ve set up a real-er reality (real traditional American flavor), let’s be sensible. Let’s marvel at Republican candidates.

Newt Gingrich won in South Carolina. So he asked his Florida fans to skip to the moon with him where he’ll establish the U.S.’ fifty-first state (sorry, Kashmir). Because that was so cool-headed, presidential and professional, Gingrich was immediately elected high-holy Galactic Viceroy, a position he’s had for centuries now. Lunacy policy wins the day.

Mitt Romney trounced the field in Florida. So he reaffirmed to a national television audience (or to those of us who can still afford cable service, a TV, plus some electricity) the reason he’s running for president: “I’m in this race because I care about Americans. I’m not concerned about the very poor.” Once everybody remembered that one of every four kids in America lives in poverty, they hoisted Mitt onto their shoulders and carried him across The Great Finish Line. Where he collapsed into the arms of Fabio, or Providence, maybe ecstasy, the end.

Somebody new won last night. So it’s Rick The Dragonheart’s turn to flex some muscle (bladder?). Surely, he’s seen how the other geniuses cashed in on success. Surely, he’s learned that the key to victory in the long run is to remain calm and to talk in measured tones. That’s all anybody would ask from a politician they might throw a vote at. ‘Dear clown: Act presidential, please.’ Can you do that? Rick?

“I for one understand just from science that there are one hundred factors that influence the climate. To suggest that one minor factor of which man’s contribution is a minor factor in the minor factor is the determining ingredient in the sauce that affects the entire global warming and cooling is just absurd on its face.”

Yes.

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