Good gravy. You couldn’t find more gasbags in the news if it were Thanksgiving Day and the Macy’s parade were meandering through Manhattan. On fire.
You have Rep. Mikey Mouse (R-Dizzyland) calling himself “a wartime speaker.” This is true in the sense that he is at war with his own caucus.
Then there’s tough guy Tom Cotton, (R-Dunk-’n’-Flay), regaling us from the depths of his dead eyes about how they know how to treat peace-creeps and hippies in Arkansas, where he apparently rarely shows his … well, I suppose you’d call that a face, if only because it’s parked on the front of his head.
And of course there’s Will D. DeFendant smirking, snoozing, and sounding off through jury selection in his criminal trial.
“Your client was audible,” Judge Juan Merchan told the defendant’s shysters, mouthpieces, and ambulance chasers.
Boy, is that ever an understatement. An offense to the ears, eyes, and nose, if you believe what you smell on the Innertubes from noted yukmeisters Adam Kinzinger and Kathy Griffin.
Well, look on the bright side. The trial takes a day off tomorrow, and we’re not in the jury pool.
Mad Blog Media 
You can’t make up shit this bad. Mikey has reached his level of impotence. It happened when he went to mar a lardo, forget his spine, and ended up with his pants around his ankles.
If you forget your spine and wind up with your pants around your ankles, does your head end up in a deeply personal relationship with your ass? Asking for a friend. …
He forgot his spine, and he indeed had his head up somebody’s ass. When they put out the call for a new squeaker, he was the only one dumb enough to answer the phone.
He thought that when they said he’d be “impotent” they meant “important.”