D.C.Daily
I had this wonderful dream last night that Jon Stewart did the unthinkable…he was…impolite…to a guest. Actually, he, verbally, tore this glib, neo-con dickwad, a new asshole, and then, when this Marc Thiessen schmuck (an ex-Bush/Rumsfeld speechwriter, how shameless is this guy, admitting to that..?) reacted to the endless torrent of invective that poured from Stewart’s Mother Wit and swore back at him (a feeble effort)…and even became threatening, in his posture. Wellllllll, Jonny wound up (you shoulda seen it, it was…..charmant) and knocked this smarmy fuck out of his seat and right onto the goddam floor, where he sat on his ass, bawling, like a baby, because most macho, know-it-all, pro-life, anti gay, pro-war, anti-matter, think-that-science-is-based-on-opinion, talk a lotta shit, shitheads, are humongous pussies inside…I remember, as a young, hippie boy in the Deep South, backing down redneck bullies (which was fairly easy, ‘cause they were typically, chickenshits*, unless they were in large anonymous groups [traditionally, in the corner of South Carolina, I lived in (where Bob Jones and other like-minded scumbags, like Sen. Jim DeMint, came/come from) they also liked to wear sheets and pointy pillowcases on their heads])….fucking cowards is what they were…and in my dream…small (but, little, ok,ok…but, feisty), quite sensitive, very funny, and unarguably intelligent Jon-Jon Stewart finally gets pushed too far by one of these ball-less fucks and gives him a jolly good thrashing….the same way the father in Beautiful Joe did, when he and his son are driving by in the horse-drawn milk wagon and they see the guy, in his backyard, cutting Joe’s tail off, on a stump, with an axe, and then…my dad jumps the fence, and thrashes that motherbounder and brings poor, beautiful Joe home with us, where we nurse him back to health and love him and eventually he gets his own talk show on the comedy channel…and, and, I was so proud of my Dad for saving that poor, little doggie……yeah, so Jonny beats the shit out of this turd and as he’s apologizing to his audience for…uh…losing his…er…composure, my wife (accidentally..?) smacks me in the head with the “Puglee” uglydoll I just bought her, for Freud’s Birthday ( I know, its early, but, we’re regressing nicely and I felt we just couldn’t wait)…annnnd…. up, I woke.…and…here we are.
*CAUTION: it is very important to note that chickenshits, in large numbers, are brutal and while most of my encounters were with one or two, I had a long-haired pal who was murdered by them after a dozen or so, raped his girlfriend…so, keep your eyes open…and stay alive friends…you are precious.
N.B. I would also like to add, that a lot of the folks that I encountered, in my years of living in The South, from the Rev. Martin Luther King, to many of my to-this-day closest friends, were/are funny, sensitive, strong, brave and highly intelligent individuals, whose most admirable characters and multi-faceted personalities were likely made even more indelible by having been forged in the crucible of “life among the troglodytes”.