Sometimes, Karl Rove gets a bad rap. Like, when top blogger Atrios names him Wanker of the Day. I have it on good authority that Karl was NOT wanking that day, it’s just that while standing at Walter Reed Hospital, thinking about what it must feel like for President Bush, his near, dear and great friend, to have that long, round object going up past your rectum and just keep going in further and farther and … well it was perfectly innocent that his hand was in his pocket and that he would fondle, uhm, toy with, uhm, play with, hum, ah! RATTLE! Yeah, rattle his keys.
No, the real wanker of the day was the Dick, who musta been boppin’ the bishop and chokin’ the chicken just about the whole day, what with officially having complete presidential power. We’re lucky he didn’t pardon Libby, but I’m guessing he didn’t have the time to do both. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what GW does in the Oval Office because I’m pretty sure he ain’t getting no BJs from Laura since that tranked up First Lady has already killed one boyfriend that tried to play that.
Oooooh. All of a sudden, I feel a little greasy. Slimed. Like, for a minute there, I turned into one of those anti-Clinton wignuts from 1998.
I hated those guys.
That’s the kind of sliming that Karl Rove does and I absolutely hate that kind of political speech. It’s precisely why I dislike Rove. His rhetorical tactics are unfair.
Or, it could just be hyperbole for the sake of humor.
blogblah!!!