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What was your favorite part of last night’s Friendly Friends Hour of Good Times and Niceness? Was it when trustworthy, loyal, helpful, thrifty, cheerful, courteous and brave mild-mannered gentleman Miffed Romney told the President of the United States to shut the fuck up? PROBABLY NOT! But let’s relive it anyway!

Miffed Romney: Blah blah blah coal.

B. Barry Bamz: [Stands, uncoiling like a STEALTHY COBRA of WHOOPASS]

Miffed Romney: You’ll get your chance in a moment, I’m still speaking!

So let us unpack this. Two weeks ago, we all thought Miffed Romney was rude when he talked over Bamz and poor sad Jim Lehrer. Then last week, we knew Old Handsome Joe Biden was rude to poor, wilting Punk Ryan, but we didn’t care, because Punk Ryan needed Big Daddy Joe to spank the lies off his face. But all of a sudden, the Fox people cared! Oh lawdy Biden was a drunken rude lunatic! All of a sudden, rudeness was wrong!

Now it is Miffed’s turn to be a total cockhole again. But the quality of this rudeness — not just talking over people and trying to out-macho the president like he’d manhandled poor dumb Rick Perry, which was rude, but not unexpectedly so — no, this one is qualitatively, gaspingly WHAT THE FUCK in its disrespect to the man, the office, the motherfuckin’ US of A! He didn’t just talk over the president. He told him to shut his fucking trap, he’d let him know when he was needed.

So let us ponder. If not the President of the United States, to whom did Miffed Romney think he was speaking?

  • The piddling God who only rules Earth.
  • The London Olympics Committee.
  • The sharp-tongued harridans of The View.
  • Tyler Perry.
  • The valet with the shifty look about him.
  • The Yorkists who tried to steal his throne. Also, Thomas More. And that fucker the Pope.
  • The LA Times customer service rep who doesn’t care that you tried to cancel your subscription six months ago when you moved, and you’re still paying for it, and can’t get it delivered to your new building, and who suggests that instead of canceling it you could just keep paying to have it delivered to “a family member” instead. Oh right, that was us, and we were a super-bitch. Not sorry though.
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