Late Night: We Interrupt This Program For a Word From God…

Hey there, folks. God here. I just smote watertiger so I could get this primo blog real estate and have a little heart-to-heart with you. Eh, don’t worry, she’ll be fine. That’s one hard head she’s got.

Well, it seems that once again, certain of your more prominent Republican idiots have been making some wild-assed claims that I’ve been telling them what to do. Take this Sam Whirlygigwhateverthefuck. Guy’s name isn’t Joe, and he’s not a plumber, but he goes by Joe the Plumber, for some reason unbeknownst to even Me. Feh. But hoo boy, that’s quite the pair of star-class balls he’s got:

[I]n a new interview with WorldNetDaily, Wurzelbacher said that he now isn’t planning to run because God doesn’t want him to:

Asked if he has plans to run for public office, he replied, “I hope not. You know, I talked to God about that and he was like, ‘No.’”

Okay, let’s get something straight here.  I’m 100% sure that I’ve never spoken to this schmoe. I wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup, frankly. And I can safely state that I wasn’t raised in the Valley, so odds are good that Joe the Whatever was talking to Moon Unit or Dweezil Zappa, not me. The only time I’d be calling this moron would be for a pizza delivery.

Shit, I know I may have steered some people wrong now and again, but I would NEVER willingly impose this doofus on y’all. 

And speaking of "y’all," I solemnly disavow any and all knowledge of Mark Sanford. Jayzus, they really know how to turn up the crazy down South. I’m tempted to resurrect Tennessee Williams so he can write another brilliant play about these melodramatic, self-destructive clowns. 

This narcissistic tool is likening himself to my old poker buddy, King David, so he can justify sharing his nut butter with women other than his wife? What’s next, changing his name to Metatron?  Maybe this fake Christian asshat can go back to vo-tech, like the Wurlitzer noob did, and learn acetylene torch welding. He’s going to need a new job pretty soon, and it ain’t gonna be in Argentina.

I suggest he read what this wise fellow, Peterr, has to say. Peterr seems to have a handle on it, and he doesn’t need to lie to people that I’ve whispered in his ear while he was regrouting the bathroom tiles. 

Anyhoo, that’s really all I have to say at the moment. Don’t worry — I will take care of these idiots in a manner befitting their arrogance.  And watertiger will be back next week, albeit with a wicked headache.    

Related posts:

1. Late Night: “Git off, Pa, Yer Crushin’ Mah Marlboros!”
2. Late Night: A Passel of Petrified and Pathetic Pinheads
3. Late Night: The South Carolina GOP Supper Club Presents “The Merchants of Prejudice”
4. Late Night: Para Normal Activity of the Republican Kind
5. Late Night: Words Certainly Can Kill.