Billionaire Everyman Mitt Romney Strangely Morphs Into A Poor, Southern Gent When Speaking To Crowd In Mississippi

Poor Mittens Romney. It's trying to act like a human being, but it just doesn't know how. Hell, the more it tries to act like an actual carbon-based, oxygen breathing entity, not futuristic cyborg Terminator Mormonator sent to terrorize humanity, the more we are all convinced it is in fact just a newer, more advanced, shapeshifting T-1000 sent back in time to kill Barack Obama and annihilate the human race in a nuclear holocaust.

And if that sounds terrifying, just look at ol' Mittens try to get in good with a crowd of Southern voters in Mississippi by explaining, naturally, how he too has this weird disease, (think it's called "being Southern"), which he caught from his unfortunate Mississippi-born bodyguard, Garrett Jackson, whose birth below the Mason-Dixon line must have somehow infected Mitt.

"He is now turning me into an, I don't know, an unofficial Southerner," Romney said. "And I'm learning to say 'y'all' and I like grits. Strange things are happening to me."

It's as if he's, gasp, one of us. A real, live (multi-millionaire) boyhick (from the North). The kind that "learns to to say y'all" and enjoys popular peasant foods like grits, because that's how they roll in the dirty dirty South, amiright?

Or maybe that's just Stage I of the rare disease known as "Unofficial Southerner Syndrome." Give it a few days. In no time at all, he'll become morbidly obese, develop type II diabetes, sport a fanny pack with a Confederate flag on it, and swing on a front porch reminiscing about secession and how the "trees are just the right height."

For lynching.

[image via PunditKitchen]

How Do I Love Thee America, Let Mitt Count The Ways...

You Know Who Else Mitt Loves? That Guy! (Oh Wait, That's A Mirror!)

Willard "Mitt" Romney is a lover of many things. Many, many generic things. He loves air, for instance. The way it effortlessly swirls around from place to place, filling up empty space without ever being noticed. The delicate way it fills your chest, pumping into your lungs. It just feels so right!

You know what else feels right? You do, America!

He loves everything about you. Your large, sturdy shape. The fearless way you shovel donut cheeseburgers down your throat, unswayed by death or diabetic coma. Your funny little houses with the wheels under them. Motor homes, if I have the lingo right. Gosh Bless 'em! The way you paint your frozen obese bodies and wear cheese on your head when cheering for sport. He can't get enough! What a country!

Want to know what else Mitt loves from the bottom of his totally relatable, totally human, non-robotic, billionaire everyman heart?

Via TPM:

He loves our land.

"I love our lands," he said. Lease it, rent it, own it, raze it, build it, bulldoze it, drill it, fill it, drain it, dry it,  there's nothing you can't do with land. Land is good, my friends! (P.S. Obama hates land and won't stop until we are floating around aimlessly, not a drop of terra firma to be found!).

He loves our people.

"I love our people," he said. Raise your hands in the air if you're white and got more than $1,000 dollars in your pocket!

He loves business.

"I love you," he told business leaders. He doesn't care what NOBAMA or the big bad gubmint says, corporations are people, my friend! Large, powerful, metal & steel-fortified, weather-resistant, amorphous people. Aesthetically pleasing on the outside, hollow and plastic on the inside. You know, just like Mitt.

He loves Michigan's lakes.

"I love the lakes," he said. Wait, but I thought it was land that was good?? LAND, remember??

He loves Michigan's inland lakes.

"There’s something very special here–the great lakes, but also all the little inland lakes that dot the parts of Michigan," he said. Let's call them good lakes. Not great, but decent enough. Oh, and also all the little fish that dot the parts of Michigan that are underwater. Not in the Detroit 'underwater' kind of way, either.

He loves the streets in Michigan.

"The streets are just right," he said. The way they go East and West and North and South and have painted yellow lines on them. And you should see the way all the vehicles move on them! Like butter, I tell ya! Besides, some of his best friends have streets named after them!

He loves the trees.

"You know, the trees are the right height," he said. Perfect for climbing. Or swinging. Or chopping down and making into other wonderful things, like, oh, I don't know, say, money. Unlike those giant red weirdos out in hippie-dippie Californication.

He loves cars.

"I love cars," he said. "I grew up totally in love with cars." And then he married Ann. Life is craaaaazy!

He loves the Constitution.

"I love our Constitution," he said. It had him at "We." By the time he gets to "The People," fuggedaboutit, he's already lost his shit!

He loves our freedoms.

"I love our freedoms," he said. Feels so liberating!

He loves hymns.

"I love the hymns of this nation," he said. Leave rock 'n roll to Obama and the kids. Al Green ain't got nothin' on Mitt!

O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

Speaking of shining seas...

He loves the ocean.

"I love the ocean, too," he said. "I do love the ocean." But most of all when he's in his beloved Taxachusetts. If you got ocean in your yard and a yacht in your dock, say heck yeah! Eastern seaboard, what, what!

He loves water.

"I love water," he said. For drinking, bathing, swimming, and, of course, posthumously baptizing dead Jews and secretly converting them to Mormonism. You know, normal stuff.

Mitt for America! He just feels right! After all, Americans do have a weakness for white, starchy, artificial things high on taste, but devoid of all substance.

[images via Shutterstock]

Rick Santorum Has Intimate Knowledge Of Satan; Coincidentally, It's Also The Only Thing He's Intimate With

I'm sure by now you've probably heard some vague rumblings about the mysterious substance surging through the nation, oozing its frothy, God-fearing, Santorum-y essence across the vast, toxic, anal sex-ridden, pagan and homosexual wasteland that is OBAMA'S United States.

But just who is this frumpy Jesus freak in a sweater vest spreading the gooey missionary (style) gospel of one whiny, frightened, sexually frustrated, middle aged white man who loves the ladies, save for that scary sinkhole tucked between their aspirin hugging knees?

And even more importantly, just what exactly is "burning down there," Rick? The eternal flame of a 2,016 year-old Jewish carpenter who somehow made his way into his already-bunched up tighty-whities?? The volcanic force of thousands of pent-up erections ready to explode inside virginal Christian wombs the world over?

The work of the great S-named force of evil plaguing our once-pure, once-chaste, once-white Christian nation? No, no not Sex. Give up? Why Satan, of course!

"Satan is attacking the great institutions of America, using those great vices of pride, vanity, and sensuality as the root to attack all of the strong plants that has so deeply rooted in the American tradition."

Please don't say the pussy willow, anything but pussy please!

"This is a spiritual war. And the Father of Lies has his sights on what you would think the Father of Lies would have his sights on: a good, decent, powerful, influential country - the United States of America. If you were Satan, who would you attack in this day and age? There is no one else to go after other than the United States and that has been the case now for almost 200 years, once America’s preeminence was sown by our great Founding Fathers.”

Likely after they sowed their freedom juice into the French hookers Ben Franklin was kind enough to share with the rest of his fellow founding brethren.

Naturally, Santorum defended his comments at a rally in Phoenix, saying that unlike his Lord & Savior Jesus Christ, it's "absurd" they resurfaced in the first place.

“It's a joke, it's absurd," he said. "I‘m a person of faith. I believe in good and evil. I think if somehow or another because you’re a person of faith you believe in good and evil is a disqualifier for president, we’re going to have a very small pool of candidates who can run for president."

Don't be ridiculous, Rick! You and your freaky, sex-hating, loin-burning, misogynistic Christian lunatics are more than welcome to run for president. It's just the winning part that's off-limits.

"Our president refuses to call evil – evil. He refuses to even name it, refuses to confront it. He tries to appease and cajole it in an effort to reduce America's commitments around the world - that if we just have paper or if we just try to make nice with those who are actively doing harm to America and its allies, that somehow or another that threat will go away or be ameliorated."

"And what we have found is that is simply, from history, it doesn't work."

Sort of like whatever Rick's got "burning" down there.

With polls showing Romney and Santorum in a statistical dead heat and primaries looming in both Arizona and Michigan, Rick appealed to the audience about the importance of the upcoming contests.

"You are going to have a huge impact," he said. "Everybody is focused in on Super Tuesday. But more than anything else, what happens in Michigan and Arizona next week is going to have the biggest impact on Super Tuesday and this election than any two states."

Well, other than his favorite states, denial and suppression.

Let's just hope Santorum doesn't blow his load first. Err, lead, I meant lead!!

After all, the greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he doesn't exist. If it wasn't for that damn trail of Santorum left behind!

[image via AP]

Mitt Romney Is "Not Concerned About The Very Poor," Nor Apparently Winning Anything But The Hatred Of 99% Of America

Ah Mittens. Fresh off a most undeserved and uninspired victory over a gelatinous blob of ethical lapses and abandoned wives in the Florida Republican primary, Willard "Mitt" Romney proceeded to promptly squander all momentum and break the Golden Rule of presidential politics: pretend not to be the cold, heartless, asshole you really are.

Whoopsies!

You see, to billionaire everyman Mitt Romney, poor people are like unicorns. He's heard of them, but never actually seen one. (Or at least not in the wilds of Massachusetts' gated communities).

Which is probably why Mittens continued the ill-advised practice of opening up his awful rich person's mouth and letting words flow forth like sister-wives to the altar, terrifying Soledad O'Brien and the half-dozen or so other people actually watching CNN.

"I'm in this race because I care about Americans," Mitt said. "I'm not concerned about the very poor. We have a safety net there. If it needs repair I'll fix it."

And if the handyman he held his nose while hiring can't get the job done (ugh, dumb poors!), he'll move on to his next favorite activity: firing people.

But since Mitt is clearly not concerned about the gross poors (the free market will take care of them), what exactly is he concerned about? (Just kidding! We know he really doesn't care about anybody).

"I'm not concerned about the very rich; they're doing just fine." (Just fine, indeed, wink wink!). "I'm concerned about the very heart of America, the 90-95 percent of Americans who right now are struggling...We will hear from the Democrat party on the plight of the poor and there's no question, it's not good being poor (he's never really thought about it, but he'll take their word for it!), and we have a safety net to help those that are very poor."

And what a fine safety net it is! Manufactured in China by NetCo, LLC, a subsidiary of Bain Capital, and strong enough to catch a full-grown man plunging to the bottom in a dizzying self-induced freefall from the high horse he's permanently perched upon.

So that's what they mean about wealth trickling down!

[image via AP]

People Of The Sunshine State: Sarah Palin Urges America To Rage Against The Machine (& All Rational Thought) And Make Newt The Man

Former reality teevee star and failed vice-president, governor, political pundit, mother, grifter, fame whore, EVERYTHING, Sarah Palin, took a break from the usual Facebook trolling and illiterate Tweeting to continue her bizarre quest endorsing Newt Gingrich because of some on-again, off-again, leftist hard rock band from the '90s. Or something like that.

Here's Mama Grizz herself telling resident Fox News muppet and Fran Drescher wannabe Jeanine Pirro all the wonderful reasons why Newt Gingrich is the right man, not machine, for the job.

"When both party machines and many in the media are trying to crucify Newt Gingrich for bucking the tide and bucking the establishment that tells you something."

It does?? Like that he'll buck just about anything, including his cancer and MS-stricken wives, respectively?

Urging people to “rage against the machine,” Palin continued, “Vote for Newt. Annoy a liberal. Vote Newt. Keep this vetting process going, keep the debate going.”

You hear that people? Keep the debate going! Right into the gutter. It's fun, plus you get to RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE and ANNOY A LIBERAL, all in one fell swoop, err, make that one fell Newt!

Because nothing would annoy (and by annoy, we of course mean, delight) liberals more than the good people of Florida voting a thrice married, twice divorced, faux intelligent, serial adultering, shamelessly amoral huckster who may or may not have secretly promised Sarah Palin a cabinet position in his fantasy moon colony, the winner of the Florida Republican primary.

NOTHING! Well, except maybe Zack de la Rocha and Tom Morello spitting rhymes and shredding chords at this year's Coachella in honor of everyone's fave mooniacs, Newt Gingrich and Sarah Palin.

With a special set-list including such hits as:

Bull(shit) On Parade
People Of The Sun Moon
Sleep Now In The (Eternal Hell) Fire
Killing In The Name (of Jesus Christ)
No Shelter (for Mexicans)
(Dead) Guerrilla Radio
How I Could Just Kill a Man (with a 9mm Hollow-Point Bullet)
FreeDUMB
Testify (Against a Liberal Activist Judge)
Renegades of DysFunktion
Vietnow (and Forever)

RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE, Florida people.

Newt Gingrich Wins South Carolina, Reminding America Why It's South Carolina In The First Place

Well, well, that was faster than dumping an ex-wife in the cancer ward! Whining, bloated, real life Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and serial adultering sac of ethics violations Newt Gingrich has just been declared the Big Wiener of the South Carolina Confederate Republican primary. Hooray! Now all of America can experience the amphibeous-named, Tiffany bling-encrusted, white-capped mountain of sleaze that is Newton Leroy "Newt" Gingrich. Let's just hope America has been drinking their açaí berry shakes and practicing their sun salutations because otherwise Newt will do to America what he's done to everything else he's ever loved: move on to the next younger, hotter CUNTry. Oops, Country, I mean Country!

So while the Big Newt, err, make that the Big News of the day is that a white, womanizing, racist asshole takes the bacon in the wonderful State where the Civil War started (crazy, I know!), those who don't reside in The Palmetto State, or as it's more commonly known, North Carolina's redheaded stepchild, can still feel a part of the wingnut political process, thanks to the boldest, tackiest, NSFW-iest political gear to hit the market this election year. Perfect for the crazed Teabagging asshole in your life! Wear one to your next (and last!) job interview and let the whole world know which appendage Uncle Sam can suck, without having to say a word!

And proudly wear your hate on your sleeve! Because if there's one thing people who like terrible, offensive polticial t-shirts looooove it is hating immigrants. Not like your average, milky white, red freckled, O'Sullivan or O'Reilly from Dublin. Remember, "immigrants" is Republican for "Mexicans," as is any other brown-skinned persons of broad latino descent born south of Brownsville, Texas.

The other general rule of thumb for people who purchase this type of political attire is a blind, albeit almost pathological hatred of President Barack Obama. This hate must be so strong that it bends the rules of logic, physics, grammar, the universe, and comparison-making. Obama is Hitler, Stalin, Mao Zedong, Che Guevera, Pol Pot, the Joker from Batman, Bill Cosby, Uncle Tom, King Kong, Godzilla, Aunt Jemima, every black stereotype ever (here's looking at you Buckwheat!), a dork, dweeb, nerd, liar, elitist, secret Muslim Terrorist Socialist, and of course, a shit sandwich, as these t-shirts so tastefully prove. The best part? These tees come in a variety of exciting, PC colors like Sanchez Brown, Drunken Irish, Funeral Black, Blue Balls, Period Red, Pussy Pink, Blow White, and Bong Ash so you can you can look your best while being the worst!

Ugh, you know what really grinds wingnuts' gears? When gross smart people run the government! With their elitist knowledge and intelligence. It's enough to make a person sick! What America needs isn't more "community organizers" or hoity-toity "college graduates." Hell no! What it needs is a bunch of toothless, drunk, heavily armed, high school dropouts to make America great again by expelling all the Messicans and gays while bombing the bejesus out of as many foreign, oil-rich Muslim countries as their GED brains can think of. Next stop, Arabia!

Nothing screams sexy like an angry, naked Mama Grizz mounting Nancy Pelosi from behind, locked in a full nelson, and forced to submit to a woman elected to a position for which she isn't even running. Women's Rights are so 2008! Sarah Palin/Horny Men 2012! You betcha!

¡Ay, caramba! This shirt ordering all illegals to SPEAK FUCKING ENGLISH is great except for the one tiny, little thing: the shirt is written in FUCKING ENGLISH! Though, extra bonus racist points for hot girl's middle finger. The universal language for junior high school kids to let the whole world know they just don't give a F*CK 'bout nothin! Except of course, poorly spoken, grammatically incorrect, AMERICAN JESUS ENGLISH.

Ummm, I don't know about you, but Vanilla Ice threatening to rip my eyeballs out and have sex with my empty orbital sockets is enough to keep me from setting Old Glory ablaze anytime soon. Mission Accomplished!?

Oh, yeaaaaah! Every dad who purchases this badboy is pretty much guaranteeing that his daughter will eventually end up dating Mary Cheney. Or Chaz Bono. Or, God forbid, Marcus Bachmann! **Shudder**

So get your awesome wingnut tee today and let the whole world know, "Congress shall make no law abridging the freedom of speech" what happens when bad decision-making meets 40 ounces of malt liquor deep in the middle of Bumblefuck, USA, like oh, I don't know, say, South Carolina.

Freedom's a bitch, y'all!

The Only Thing Scarier Than Ron Paul's Policies Is The Size Of A Certain Ron Paul Supporter

ARRRRRGGGHHHHH! KILL IT! KILL IT WITH FIRE!!

As if crazed crypt keeper/Libertarian Jesus Ron Paul and his fantasy vision of a post-apocalyptic American wasteland of small government and even smaller minds wasn't scary enough (umm, need I mention Rand?), the man who makes John McCain look young and stable by comparison went out and found himself the perfect foil to his own feeble, decrepit self: a real live freaking giant!

The preferred wingnut accompaniment to any second place victory speech, New Hampshire or elsewhere! Plus, what better way to return to the glorious gold standard and roving bands of toothless, heavily armed cannibals that is Ron Paul's America than your own personal workhorse, extra large enforcer, skilled beanstalk climber, portable chair lift, and ready-made meal, in case of emergency, like say a Ron Paul presidency. Cause you know it's not just muscle on those jumbo size bones!

So hooray for Ron Paul, who is either running for President of the United States or embarking on an epic journey to destroy a magic ring by throwing it in a volcano where it was forged.

Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum! Libs and poors are the worst kind of scum!

That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind for Ron Paul. See, anything really is possible! Except a Ron Paul victory, or, apparently, a Ron Paul supporter with normal human characteristics, be it limb size or empathy.

Ron Paul/Fezzik 2012!

[images via Buzz Feed]

With Dreams Of The White House Fading Fast, Michele Bachmann Will Take Her One-Woman Circus Act To A Much More Appropriate Place: The Nut House

After months of deep-throating various meats-on-sticks and confusing serial killer clowns (John Wayne Gacy) with lady-killer movie stars (John Wayne), America's favorite blue-eyed basket case of the Midwest Michele Bachmann officially announced she is ending her presidential campaign to honor fellow faux grrrrrl power quitter extraordinaire Sarah Palin focus on her real job, crusading against cancer vaccines and reminding people what crazy looks like. (Approximately 5'2" with brown hair and pouty lips).

*Sigh!* Poor hubby Marcus Bachmann will never get to be First Lady, after all!

National Journal reports the heart-breaking news:

Rep. Michele Bachmann is suspending her presidential campaign, said a senior Republican official with direct knowledge of the lawmaker’s plans.
The official, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said the Minnesota lawmaker, a favorite of the tea party wing of the party and a harsh critic of President Obama, realized after her sixth-place finish in Iowa’s caucuses that “there was no viable way forward.” By suspending her campaign, Bachmann is effectively dropping out.

Of course, Bachmann is already well-versed in this arena, having effectively dropped out of reality long ago.

But fear not, friends, because while Michele may be down, she's certainly not out! As long as there are rural, racist, white folks to dupe, immigrants to scapegoat, gross gays to cure (or in her case, marry), a black man in the White House, and a country resembling the sinful 21st, not glorious 18th century, Michele Bachmann will always have a job to do!

“I look forward to the next chapter in God’s plan. He has one for each of us, you know,” she said at the press conference.

Hers, of course, includes wallowing in a loveless, sexless marriage to her husband, Marcus, who is not gay, so please stop asking, followed by what will likely be a lengthy stay in a white-washed, windowless room with padded walls.

Or, if all goes well, that other place lunatic Republican woman feel right at home: the Vice Presidential slot on the GOP ticket.

[image via Wonkette]

Two Bombs Don't Make A Right: The Only Similarity Between Newt Gingrich's Campaign & Pearl Harbor Is The Pricey New Tiffany Pearls Draped Around Callista's Neck

In what likely shattered dreams of a Merry Christmas for countless Americans from sea to shining sea, the Republican Party of Virginia announced that Newton Leroy "Newt" Gingrich was offically disqualified from the Virginia primary ballot because he was having too much fun running for president of dumb, meaningless teevee debates to be bothered to run for actual president of the United States and submit the 10,000 signatures that the state requires to qualify.

Umm, ooopsies?

Now, most people would probably attribute such a massive misstep to the obvious managerial ineptitude and organizational failure, but then again most people are not Newt Gingrich, and don't have a delusional sense of self-worth nor an ego the size of their own impossibly thick, dense head.

No, no, the much more likely explanation is that Virginia, like Japan before it, had decided to pull a Pearl Harbor on Newt by kamikaze bombing his campaign not letting him on the ballot for fascism for not following the rules like every other semi-competent candidate.

Newtclear Meltdown In Virginia: A Gaffe That Will Live In Infamy!

From The Hill:

“Newt and I agreed that the analogy is December 1941,” campaign director Michael Krull wrote on the Gingrich Facebook page. “We have experienced an unexpected set-back, but we will re-group and re-focus with increased determination, commitment and positive action. Throughout the next months there will be ups and downs; there will be successes and failures; there will be easy victories and difficult days – but in the end we will stand victorious.”

If you mean victorious in presiding over, quite possibly, the most bumbling, asinine, idiotic, disastrous presidential campaign in recent memory, then congratulations, Newt, you win!

You always did have a knock for bombing!

But don't feel too bad, Newty! Michele Bachmann, Rick Perry, and Rick Santorum all also proved too inept to hand in enough signatures on time, so you're not the only one prohibited from gracing Virginia's pristine ballot boxes.

After all, Virginia is for lovers, not fatass, adulterous losers.

An honest mistake. Unlike Newt! Errr, at least the honest part.

[image via WeaselZippers]

The Fighter In Herman Cain Wants To Keep Running For President, But The Lover In Him Has Forced His Premature Evacuation

Horny Godfather of grabassery Herman No He Cain't has gone and done the unthinkable. No, no, not shove another unsuspecting woman's head into his crotch or offer financial assistance to a dear "friend" by secretly putting his penis into her vagina at various hotels around the country. The other unthinkable thing, effectively ending his hilarious presidential campaign of one weird, humiliating gaffe and sexual harassment charge after another.

Oh, the Hermanity!

The New York Times reports on this unfolding tragedy:

An unapologetic and defiant Herman Cain suspended his presidential campaign on Saturday, pledging that he “would not go away” even as he abandoned hope of winning the Republican nomination in the face of escalating accusations of sexual misconduct.
“As of today, with a lot of prayer and soul searching, I am suspending my presidential campaign,” Mr. Cain said at a rally that was originally planned to be the grand opening of his national campaign headquarters in Atlanta. “Because of the continued distractions, the continued hurt caused on me and my family, not because we are not fighters. Not because I’m not a fighter.”

But because he's a lover. And not just any lover, but a lover of creepy, unwanted sexual advances and crappy pizza stocked on gas station shelves.

He's also a fighter. Especially when it involves facts of any kind. Particularly the kind that has nice round breasts and a full, come-hither mouth it can use to call the media and give all the juicy details about the lover-fighter that is Herman Cain.

"I am not going to be silenced and I am not going away," he said with his wife Gloria at his side, vowing to continue to be "a voice for the people."

Especially the ladies. Whether they like it or not.

"I am disappointed that it came to this point, that we had to make this decision," Cain said. "These false and untrue allegations continue to be spinned in the media, and in the court of public opinion so as to create a cloud of doubt over me and this campaign and my family. That spin hurts. It hurts my wife. It hurts my family. It hurts me. And it hurts the American people, because you are being denied solutions to our problems."

Like the irresistibly sweet, black walnutty taste of Herman's Candy Cain?

"So one of declarations I want to make to you today is that I am at peace with my God. I am at peace with my wife, and she is at peace with me. And I am at peace with my family and at peace with myself," Cain said.

And with whatever hot piece of ass he befriends to help with her finances next.

Cain did, however, vow to keep fighting for his unique brand of conservatism (the crazy kind?) through his awesome new website, thecainsolution.com: 9-9-9 The Movie: Slaying the Tax Monster.

Likely followed by its sequel thecaindissolution.com: 9-9-9 The Divorce: Resurrecting The Pants Monster.

Looks like America will just have to grope its way back to prosperity, without the helping hand of Herman Cain, Godfather of Love.

Although, on the bright side, at least he gets to spend more time with his families.

[image via New York Times]

Not Even Rick Perry Is Drinking Rick Perry's Kool-Aid, Unless It's Spiked With Bacardi, Served With An Umbrella Straw & Moves Elections To An Imaginary Date In Some Drunk Fool's Mind

When not embarrassing himself on national teevee by forgetting which of the big, bad, Socialist, gubmint programs he can't wait to get rid of (edukayshun?) in the middle of a prime-time Republican debate, Slick Rick Perry is usually content to just get drunk and embarrass himself away from the bright glare of the spotlight, like, say at an obscure New Hampshire town hall meeting no one cares about anyway. Or maybe just skip the booze and embarrass himself doing what he does best (besides swigging from a secret flask and executing inmates): opening his big fat trap and saying something ridiculously stupid, it makes Herman Cain look like a total jenius in comparison. I'm talking Albert Feinstein level!

Like when Rick Perry attempts to lock up a presidential victory by reminding the good people of New Hampshire to vote for him, Rick "Jesus" Perry, on November 12, a solid week after the actual November 6 presidential election, when no one else will even be running anymore, unless of course they know a thing or two about flux capacitors in 1985 DeLoreans. Solid strategy, Slick!

Even better is when Rick Perry decides to move the legal voting age from 18 to 21, because, c'mon, what's an election without getting smashed out of your mind first? Certainly not any election Rick Perry has any chance of winning.

“Those of you that will be 21 by November the 12th, I ask for your support and your vote. Those of you who won’t be, work hard.”

Hear that New Hampshire?

Rick Perry is imploring all of you to please work hard, getting as drunk as humanly possible Rick Perry, so that you mistakenly vote for him in the one election he actually has a chance to win: the fictional kind.

But it's not as if Perry's whole brain is drowning in a delicious sea of Jameson and Patrón. The dwindling patch of functioning neurons remaining in Rick Perry's ethanol-soaked mind did manage to comprehend that some desperate, insane (shit-faced?) wingnuts may still want a few reasons to pick Rick, so he gave 'em something they can really sink their teeth (or at least what's left of them) into: what to do with all those pesky brown people doing the gritty jobs and hard manual labor beneath the average white supremacist hillybilly Perry supporter.

“What we need is a president that has the courage, who has the will to implement and send the resources to that border to secure it.”

Oooh, like Herman Cain and his possibly-electrified border fence with the alligator-filled moat??

Speaking of illegal immigrants arrested for non-violent crimes, Perry said, “My policy will be to detain and deport every illegal alien who is apprehended in this country.”

In other words, he will round up everyone who has already been rounded up, and then do, umm, whatever it is that incompetent idiot Republican governors of Texas do with poor non-white minorities: kill them secretly employ them as maids, gardeners, or an extra set of hands to help herd the cattle and groom the horses on their sprawling ranch.

Either way, Herman Cain, Michelle Bachmann, and Newt Gingrich better watch out, because the race to the bottom is officially heating up.

And no Rick, we don't mean the wooden barrel where you store your moonshine.

For God's sake, Rick, didn't anyone tell you you're not required to get wasted every time you speak in public?

The mind may be a terrible thing to waste. But I guess, in Rick Perry's case, an even more terrible waste would be if he actually had a mind.

[image via The Daily Beast]

Hey Ladies, Want A Job? Herman Cain's Got A Stimulus Package Designed Just For You!

Ah, remember the good old days when the conveniently vague, creepy sexual harassment accusations against everyone's favorite Black Walnut/Godfather of unwanted sexual advances Herman Cain were kept secret from the innocent, tender ears of the American people, so as to spare us the sordid details of all the gross sexytime things Herman Cain likes to say and do when harassing vulnerable, unsuspecting women looking for a job? (We know, we know, he just wanted to give her a position on his staff!).

Well thanks to Cain accuser #4, Sharon Bialek, it's blissful ignorance no more, my friends!

Sharon Bialek, accompanied by the celebrity lawyer Gloria Allred, became the first woman to publicly accuse the presidential candidate of sexual harassment, saying that she wants to “give a voice” to other women who might have been harassed by Mr. Cain during his tenure at the association.

Bialek detailed Cain's sexual overture, explaining that he spent money on a palatial hotel suite for her at the time of their meeting. When they saw each other in the evening, Bialek said he put his hand on her leg, "reached for [her] genitals" and pushed her head toward his crotch.

When Bialek objected, Cain asked her: "You want a job, right?"

After all, he is Herman Cain, America's premier job creator. Blow job creator, that is.

Bialek called on Cain to "come clean about what you did," saying: "Mr. Cain, I implore you, make this right."

Whatever do you mean, Sharon? Cain is already right when he continuously insists that those "harassment" charges are false, in that they are actually more like "assault."

Which is weird because Herman Cain always seemed so likeable, especially in non-rapey situations, like when preaching about electrocuting Mexicans, blaming poors for their own miserable, pathetic lives, and telling women what they can and cannot do with their tight li'l bods.

Almost as weird as not one, not two, not three, but four different women all having the very same ridiculous hogwash story about a man, no, make that a Herman, as perfectly innocent as every other serial sex harassing boss who helps a former employee get a job by groping her genitals. Herman Cain y'all!

From The New York Times:

In an interview after Ms. Bialek’s news conference, Joel P. Bennett, a lawyer for one of Mr. Cain’s anonymous accusers, said that Ms. Bialek’s claims were “very similar” in nature to the incident that occurred between his client and Mr. Cain.

“It corroborates the claim,” Mr. Bennett said of Ms. Bialek’s allegation. Asked whether that meant that Mr. Cain had physically touched his client inappropriately, Mr. Bennett said “I can’t get more specific” but added that “I can say it is corroborating.”

Ooooh, sounds sexy!

Oh, what, Uz no wanna Fucki-Fucki-Sucki-Sucki-Cain-Cain??

9-9-9!!!

Gee, some people just can't take no for an answer. Least of all Herman Cain.

Because much like being a real presidential candidate, he's simply not Abel!

[image via AP]

Michele Bachmann's Presidential Hopes Are Sinking So Fast, Her Entire New Hampshire Staff Decided To Jump Ship For Something Safer, Like The Titanic

America's favorite blue-eyed basket case Michele Bachmann is sure having a rough go at this whole running for president thing. Turns out, convincing more than 4.8 percent of the voting population that you are indeed just as capable of ruling the free world as being involuntarily committed to the local psych ward is a lot harder than it looks! (Remember to blink, Michele, remember to blink!).

And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse than one of her debate performances, the unthinkable happens: her entire New Hampshire staff (all six of them!) upped and quit, because well, umm, do you really need to ask?

Staff members in New Hampshire for presidential candidate Michele Bachmann have resigned en masse, a Republican familiar with the situation said on Friday, in a fresh blow to her 2012 hopes.
All of the staffers, said to number six, resigned on Thursday, the Republican said.
New Hampshire's WMUR television said the reason given was due to the Bachmann campaign's lack of focus on New Hampshire, which holds the country's first primary election.
"It certainly underscores the impression that New Hampshire isn't a priority for her. She's totally written us off," said former Republican state legislator Fran Wendelboe.

That's because much like the pink unicorns, twinkling pixies, and dancing elves, they're nothing more than figments of her own, heavily medicated imagination!

But that's not it! Michele is such a loser, in fact, that even the hippie dippie liberal heathens of San Francisco couldn't be bothered enough to gather their Godless queer selves together and shout lame liberal things at her like why Mexicans have feelings too, and poor people shouldn't be forced to die in the streets as punishment for being such poor losers.

The San Francisco Chronicle reports:

Critics say the lack of any protest at Bachmann's Commonwealth Club appearance Thursday is a sign of the fading relevance of her campaign. The winner of the Iowa Straw Poll has just 4.8 percent support in the latest average of major polls by RealClearPolitics.com - sixth among the eight GOP presidential candidates. Former Godfather's Pizza CEO Herman Cain is the front-runner with 26 percent.
Even San Francisco's most hard-core activists couldn't be bothered to protest Bachmann, who once said same-sex marriage was the most important issue facing the nation. She's against it.
"Maybe people are waiting for Herman Cain to come to town," said Tenoch Flores, a spokesman for the California Democratic Party.

Or maybe they are waiting for the paint to dry on the walls of their Castro apartment, or for their marijuana plants to grow, or for the warranty on their mufflers to expire, or for their water purifier to filter, or for their tofu burgers to grill, or for the next terrible natural disaster to strike, or to catch whatever strain of influenza is going around these days, all of which are still infinitely more exciting than waiting for Michele Bachmann.

Marcus, on the other hand, was welcomed with open arms.

[image via Wonkette]

Forget "Small, Insignificant States" Like Uzbekistan, What America Really Needs Is A Small, Insignificant Statesman Like Herman Cain

Delusional pizza merchant and self-proclaimed delicious black walnut (he certainly is nutty!) Herman Cain, will not rest until every last second of his desperate, quickly expiring 15 minutes of fame (aka GOP presidential relevancy) is utterly and completely exhausted.

Which is why the rest of us are forced to endure Herman's non-stop, whirlwind media tour, letting the whole world know why being a gross gay is probably as much a choice as what unidentified, processed meat topping to slather atop your delicious 16 inch Godfather's pie, and why our nation's leader shouldn't know the first thing about, let alone correctly pronounce the name of one of those dumb, unimportant "other countries on Earth" nobody cares about, like the fictional land of magic elves, wizards, and military supply routes into Afghanistan, formerly called "Uzbekistan."

"I’m ready for the ‘gotcha’ questions and they’re already starting to come," Herman Cain said. "And when they ask me who is the president of Ubeki-beki-beki-beki-stan-stan I’m going to say you know, I don’t know. Do you know?"

Awww, snap! Dude must have gone to the Sarah Palin School of Gotcha Questions™ where they teach presidential hopefuls the proper way to prepare for a basic foreign policy "gotcha" question on a country with the largest military force in Central Asia that the United States would like to use as a strategic ally, by mocking it with a series of nonsense syllables because who needs real words to describe weird, foreigny places not named the United States of AmeriCAIN baby!? Woot, woot! Amiright?

Besides, I don't see Youbetikissedstan or whatever creating any jobs, do you?

"And then I’m going to say how’s that going to create one job? I want to focus on the top priorities of this country. That’s what leaders do. They make sure that the nation is focused on the critical issues with critical solutions. Knowing who is the head of some of these small insignificant states around the world I don’t think that is something that is critical to focusing on national security and getting this economy going. When I get ready to go visit that country I’ll know who it is but until then I want to focus on the big issues that we need to solve.”

Hells yeah! You tell 'em Herman! If they are "small, insignificant states," it's their own damn fault! C'mon, knowledge is for pussies and elitists, not proud Republican presidents of marginal pizza chains.

Besides, he'll Wikipedia that shit when (and only when!) he actually goes to that miserable beki beki hellhole, like the tourists, and leaders of the free toppings world do.

It's called diplomacy, Black Walnuts style, bitches!

A Quitter Never Wins & A Winner Never Quits, Which Is Why Sarah Palin Will Just Go Ahead & Be A Loser Who Always Quits

Take a deep breath, America. Sarah Palin's awful, vomit-inducing, toxic reign of idiocy is officially over. It's true! On the momentous 5th day of October in the 2011th year of mankind, the nation's, no, no, make that the world's, most famous grifter-quitter-grandma from hell (aka Wasilla), Sarah Louise Palin, aka Lou Sarah aka Mama Grizz aka Barracuda aka lipstick wearing pitbull hockey mom aka ‘Orora’ announced SHE IS NOT RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT of Fox News, short-lived reality teevee shows, making Mittens Romney actually look electable, getting humiliated by Barack Obama for the second time in four years.

Terribly sad, I know. Now what will we do when we want to feel all dead and empty inside? Who can America turn to to lower our collective IQ with little more than a kiss, wink, inverted syntax, a you betcha or two, and all the faux victimhood Sarah Palin can cram into one grammatically incorrect sentence?

I guess, there will still be Fox News!

But perhaps the most fitting tribute comes from former McCain adviser Nicolle Wallace, who was assigned by the McCain '08 campaign to help Sarah get through her day without ruining everything, only to discover you can't control crazy!

Could it be this very experience with the Wasilla wonder herself, that inspired Wallace's new political novel that "explores what would happen if a woman were plucked from relative obscurity and elected Vice President of the United States - only to find herself completely unprepared for the job."

Hmmm...

“The idea of a mentally ill vice president who suffers in complete isolation was obviously sparked by the behaviors I witnessed by Sarah Palin.”

Not the Sarah Palin, the awesomest, most quittingest human being that has ever hunted moose from helicopters!

Well, first let me just say that the novel is by no means meant to build a case against Sarah Palin. However, to the extent that the people around [the fictional vice president] Tara watched in this troubled state of confusion, despair and helplessness as she flailed around — that was something I experienced. Palin vacillated between extraordinary highs on the campaign stage — she ignited more enthusiasm than our side had seen at any other point — to debilitating lows. She was often withdrawn, uncommunicative and incapable of performing even the most basic tasks required of her job as McCain’s running mate.

Wait, what? I thought the whole point was to make John McCain look less like a fossilized Alzheimer's victim and more like elder statesman who is aware that Africa is an actual continent not a country or that Toto song she totally rocked out to in the '80s.

What if somebody who was ill-equipped for the office were to ascend to the presidency or vice presidency? What would they do? How long would it take for people to figure it out? I became consumed by this question.

Lucky for us all, Nicolle, it didn't take "people" that long to figure it out, which is probably why the McCain-Palin ticket scared the bejesus out of everyone not insane or incarcerated.

The system works, sort of!

"After much prayer and serious consideration, I have decided that I will not be seeking the 2012 GOP nomination for President of the United States," Sarah Palin said in a statement.

So, there is a God!

"I believe that at this time I can be more effective in a decisive role to help elect other true public servants to office and because "a third party would guarantee Obama's re-election, and that's the last thing that our Republic can afford."

Probably because its already spent everything funding Sarah Palin's personal cash-for-clunkers program, her presidential ponzi scheme/perma-victim tour across the US of A.

"As always, my family comes first..."

That is unless they are sick or pregnant or in the hospital or or makin' precious li'l miracles in the back of Levi's pickup or need something while I am Tweeting or Facebooking or traveling or sleeping or awake or hunting or rocking on my front porch watching Russia or anything important like that.

"From the bottom of my heart I thank those who have supported me and defended my record throughout the years, and encouraged me to run for President."

Well there you have it! The Earth-shattering news (other than that Sarah Palin does indeed have a heart), is that a person no one likes announced they are not running for a job they didn't want, couldn't do, and wouldn't get anyway.

"Know that by working together we can bring this country back – and as I've always said, one doesn't need a title to help do it."

A functioning brain, on the other hand, is pretty much required.

[image via Gawker]

The Big Ticket: Is Being The Size Of An Elephant Too Big Even For Republican Voters?

For some reason, the current crop of crazy-eyed kooks with homo husbands, washed-up Mormon Hair Club For Men spokesmodels, rambling, incoherent, coyote (and criminal) killing governors of Texas moonlighting as the Marlboro Man, and assorted other GOP misfits, misanthropes, Santorums(?) and maniac pizza moguls with more chance of delivering your large cheeseburger-smothered pie straight to your doorstep than an actual inaugural speech, haven't exactly won over the hate-filled hearts and narrow minds of Republican voters.

If only they booed more gay soldiers or had a Rick Perry-like plan for getting rid of the uninsured deadweight like gross poor people!?

Until then, where o where will Republicans find someone man enough and mean enough with the kind of King Kong physique to really bring the heavy to the race?

Why, none other than the everyone's fave bully governor of sandwiches, screaming at people, saturated fat, Snooki, New Jersey, Chris Christie, the best thing since sliced bread, err, screw it, the whole freakin' loaf.

You see, not only does Christie already have the fiscal sense to use taxpayer money to purchase a gigantic new helicopter to transport heavy loads (like say, himself) from his Grand Canyon-sized bed to his kid's high school baseball game a few waddles away from his mansion, he also has a huge ready-made constituency in the two-thirds of fellow motor-scooting Americans also the size of a dinosaur or KFC Double Down.

Amiright?

Certainly not, according to the Los Angeles Times:

Straight-talking New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie is a portly guy — and has spoken publicly in the past about his struggles with the scale. Now that he might be a contender for Republican nominee for president, other people are speaking publicly about his weight, too, and what impact it might have on his electability next November.
Washington Post columnist Eugene Robinson wrote that the governor needed to lose weight for his (and the country’s) health. Others complained that an inability to lose weight was a sort of failure of character.

Failure?? Ummm, maybe if you're one of the few who don't consider eating more than what the average circus elephant consumes on a daily basis, a stunning success and proof of presidential prowess.

C'mon, think about it. There's more for everyone to love!


Michael Kinsley, of Bloomberg News, doesn't have time to sit here, chewing the fat, so he'll skip the BS and get straight to the point:

Look, I’m sorry, but New Jersey Governor Chris Christie cannot be president: He is just too fat.

What, what, what? This is the Republican candidate we're talking about, remember! There's no such thing as too dumb, too crazy, too rich, too white, too straight, too armed, too racist, or too mentally imbalanced.

There's also no such thing as Chris Christie being too f**king fat to be president because there's no such thing as science either.

So, slather on some mayo, wrap it up in bacon, and stuff that shit down your throat!

Sure is a helluva lot easier to swallow than a Chris Christie presidency.

Although, on second thought, if Christie were president, instead of Iraq, we'd probably invade Denny's.

[image via the Star-Ledger]

The Great American Scheme: Send Sarah Money To See Sarah Run!

No one, I mean no one, knows how to make a killing from doing nothing quite like grifter-quitter-grandma extraordinaire Sarah Palin. Hell, it's not her fault, she was born that way!

And being the kind of psycho, narcissistic, fame whore who thinks she's entitled to moose piles of money for ridin' around the county yellin' crazy racist stuff at old white people in a custom-made, American flag-covered tour bus tribute to herself, Sarah Palin has devised yet another "fool-proof" way to bilk the hard-working public out of their hard-earned money by continuing to pretend anyone other than mindless zombie hockey moms and Wasilla's nursing home community would actually elect her president of the National Mushing Association, let alone the United States.

Seriously, who knew waiting around, doing nothing could be so profitable!? Other than SarahPAC treasurer Tim Crawford, of course!

As you may know, Gov. Palin is on the verge of making her decision of whether or not to run for office.
It’s one of the most difficult and important decisions of her life. And I want her to know that she has our support.
Gov. Palin is a proven leader. She’s a common-sense conservative who fights for the rights of Americans like you and me — not special interests or big corporations.
Meanwhile, Barack Obama’s presidency is a disaster. One in five working-age men are out of work. One in seven Americans are on food stamps. Thirty percent of our mortgages are under water. Parts of Michigan and California are suffering from unemployment numbers that are greater than during the depths of the Great Depression.
Someone must save our nation from this road to European Socialism. Do you think it should be Gov. Palin?
If so, can you send your best, one-time gift to SarahPAC today to help her elect more common-sense conservatives - and show her that we support her if she decides to run?

YES WE CAN!! YES WE CAN!! Because, yes, underlining random words and phrases does make it sound less like a shakedown, particularly if your choice for president also happens to be the one begging for your last twenty dollars.

It's your lucky day, America! You have the once-in-a-lifetime once-every-four-years opportunity to give Sarah Palin lots of money, so she can maybe think about keeping her streak of losing to better, more qualified candidates alive. Or not.

On second thought, stop thinking at all and just hand over the fucking cash.

Oh, and if you choose to send a check instead, always remember to heed Sarah's advice and quit writing it halfway through. Ya know, common sense!

[image via AP]

Republicans Debate Who Can Mindlessly Cram The Words Taxes & Ronald Reagan Into As Many Sentences As Possible In Two Hours

If you're like most normal, non-self loathing members of the public who don't particularly enjoy watching eight sociopaths suffering from various delusions and mental illnesses yell at each other over who loves Ronnie Reagen and Jesus, but hates terrible (Socialist) taxes (and gays!) the most, you probably missed last night's GOP Presidential clusterfuck debate.

Fear not, my friend! Lucky for you, some other miserable sadsack suffered through two endless hours of staring into Michele Bachmann's crazy baby blues, while Rick Perry bragged about all the awesome people he's executed (almost as many as Mitt's Mormon brood!) to bring you the only two words that mean anything to today's Grand Old Party:

Taxes and Ronald Reagan! Ronnie Reagan and Taxes!

Which is quite confusing! I mean how the hell do you tax a guy who's been dead for ten years?

Through one of Nancy's famous séances??

Either way, what's Jesus, the real one, not the actor/president/tax god, gonna say when he hears they FORGOT 9/11?!?!?

Two whole hours and not a single mention??

For Christ's sake!

What Do You Call 11,062 Square Feet Of Unparalleled Mormon Luxury? Mitt Romney's Big Love Shack!

OMG, did you hear the terrible, Earth-shattering news? No, no not that Slick Rick Perry has entered the Presidential race in a noble attempt to destroy restore America to its wonderful Antebellum glory. Something far, far more sinister!

President Barack Obama has just embarked on his third consecutive annual family vacation to Martha's Vineyard, in August, when literally nothing happens anywhere anyway. Ugh, the elitist nerve!

Well this makes some people very pretend furious!

Like a one Willard "Mittens" Romney, who was simply outraged that that barbarian president of ours, the one with the chocolate skin and secret Socialist smile, would dare summer on his aristocratic island of privilege and palaces, Martha's Vineyard, at the same time his charming Mormon brood was sucking sweet lobster tail with fellow Latter Day Saints for $2,500 a pop.

“If you’re the president of the United States, and the nation is in crisis — and we’re in a jobs crisis right now — then you shouldn’t be out vacationing,” Romney told Chicago’s WLS-AM radio hosts Don Wade and Roma.

That's Mitten's job, damn it!

“Instead you should be focusing on getting the economy going again. And, yeah, go back to the office yourself, pull back members of Congress and focus on getting the job done.”

Like figuring out some way to turn his God-awful, cramped, 3,009 square feet, $12 million oceanside hobo ranch in La Jolla into something a little more "adequate" for his needs, like say, a disgustingly ginormous, mind-blowingly lavish 11,062-square-foot fortress, so he can finally relax without one of "the help" breathing down his neck every time he blows his maid whistle to have his hair fluffed or feet rubbed.

From the San Diego Union-Tribune:

GOP presidential contender Mitt Romney, scheduled to attend a series of fundraisers this weekend in San Diego, is also working on plans to nearly quadruple the size of his $12 million oceanfront manse in La Jolla.

Romney has filed an application with the city to bulldoze his 3,009-square-foot, single-story home at 311 Dunemere Dr. and replace it with a two-story, 11,062-square-foot structure. No date has been set to consider the proposed coastal development and site development permits, which must be approved by the city.

According to a description from the listing agent, the Spanish-style residence at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac is sophisticated and understated in its décor, “offering complete privacy and unsurpassed elegance.” Tentative plans call for new retaining walls and a relocated driveway, but would retain the existing lap pool and spa.

Ostentatious luxury homes are people, too! Besides, having only 3,009 square feet is more of a clusterf*ck than a naked blindfolded pyramid at Guantanamo. For American everyman Mittens Romney, an 11,062-square-foot mansion is more like basic human dignity!

But fear not America! Because while elitist Obama and his royal First Family frolic in some hoity-toity island/winery Martha Stewart owns, Romney will not begin construction on his reasonable new West Coast fortress while he is still a presidential candidate.

Which should be coming to a screeching halt in 3, 2, 1...

From Politico:

“Construction will not begin until the permits have been obtained and the campaign is finished,” the [Romney campaign] official said.

Oh, building to begin in October then?

The reason for the expansion, according to the official, is family: “They want to enlarge their two bedroom home because with five married sons and 16 grandchildren it is inadequate for their needs.”

You know how those sisterwives are about confined spaces!

But seriously, all of Mitt Romney's grown adult children are still living in mom 'n pop's basement?

C'mon people, what's more American than that?

True Men Don't Kill Coyotes, They Kill Federal Reserve Chairmen!

Heil Jesus?

Memo to Rick Perry: Don't hold your arm like that. Especially at a podium with a microphone in front of a crowd. I mean seriously. Don't even let your arm do that for a second. Not even one second. Just a suggestion.

Then again, Slick Rick was never one to take advice from anyone. That's for pussies and queers, not cowboy presidents who murder coyotes with laser-sighted pistols during routine morning jogs.

Now pipe down, so we can hear who or what America's favorite maniac executioner/George W. Bush's long lost twin on steroids wants to axe murder today.

Oh, just every single federal regulation ever, and also everyone who isn't white, Christian, and a card-carrying member of the NRA. Oh, and also Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke, of course!

"We’re calling today on the president of the United States to put a moratorium on regulations across this country, because his regulations, his EPA regulations are killing jobs all across America."

Yeah, enough job killing already! It's high time we started killing people, God damn it! Never mind that Perry’s little "moratorium on regulations" would mean a literal end to the rule of law in the United States. I mean, seriously, who needs clean water, functional aircraft, food that's not poisoned, cars that don't spontaneously combust, and blood pressure drugs that aren't laced with arsenic, anyway? Certainly not Rick Perry and his Grand Old Party of idiot Tea bags!

Just wait til you see what slick Rick is gonna do to ol' money bags Ben Bernanke if he even so much as dares do his evil socialist government job and increase stimulus spending to save the nation's economy. He's about to go all Texas two-step on his ass.

Via ThinkProgress:

Speaking just now in Iowa, Perry said, “If this guy prints more money between now and the election, I dunno what y’all would do to him in Iowa but we would treat him pretty ugly down in Texas. Printing more money to play politics at this particular time in American history is almost treacherous -- or treasonous -- in my opinion."

Though, if it's for a nice, Texas-sized game of monopoly, he'll let it slide. He's not unreasonable!

It's just that Rick Perry, unlike dumbass Bernanke, understands the subtle nuances of monetary policy, which is why he is calling for everyone to trade in Glenn Beck's fake gold coins, the tears of Mexican migrant workers, and the severed body parts of executed prisoners.

It's like a "policy platform," just with more awesome death 'n stuff. Why spend money on bringing bloody, senseless wars and anarchy abroad in gross Muslimy countries, when you can have all the fun right here in good, Christian America?

Rick Perry: Because sometimes the only cure is...more cowboy!

He's just like George W. Bush, minus the brains.

Guess everything really is bigger in Texas, disasters included. Man-made or otherwise.

Rick Perry Doesn't Care If His Pork Chop-On-A-Stick Contains Rat Feces