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The Mitt Fits
In describing the flat out reversals of Mitt Romney’s
positions on gay rights and abortion rights, Washington Post columnist
Richard Cohen brilliantly posited that Mitt might change his name to Timm.
The only GOP candidate with GQ bona fides will surely love any mirror
image of himself—even of his name.
The man who once ran the Olympics gets the gold medal for
back flips off of unbalanced beams. In one fell swoop. He yanked the knot
he once would have tied for a gay couple and used it to tie the
gynecologists’ hands behind their backs. Gay rights and women’s
rights were dropped with one sleight of hand.
This is one well-coiffed contortionist. The man who believes
in latter day saints formerly believed in civil rights. For that magic
trick one wonders if it was Seigfried or Roy who mentored Mitt. When he
departed bluer than blue Massachusetts, our Mormon had to get that
elephant to stand on a chair and bray. To do so, you have to throw red
meat to the red states.
The flip was in. What gay rights? What choice? You crazy
Christians! Get outta here! Dr. Mitt transforms into Mr. Timm before
our very eyes! He’s the reddest Mormon you ever laid eyes on (Okay, so
he’s the ONLY Mormon you ever laid eyes on.)
So it had to be hard when his state campaign chair for Idaho,
“Lewd Layover” Larry Craig got caught. While the Senator of narrow
mind and wide stance may be off Mitt/Timm’s Idaho campaign, he still
menacingly walks the corridors of congress chanting “I’m here! I leer!
Get used to it!”
Leering isn’t illegal and he wants to assure the
Republicans that like Iran, Idaho has no homo’s either. And in that same
spirit, Mitt…I mean Timm dropped Larry like a hot Idaho potato.
Incidentally, Lewd Larry hired Michael Vick’s attorney—so while the
stories of dogs being tortured finally abates, we now get a horn dog in a
water closet who ought to be tortured by the gay community.
Mitt might be the most masterful, but he’s not the only
back flipper. Rudy gets the silver medal for screwing a pair of gay
roommates. Figuratively, of course. Yes, the tale of Rudy and the randy
roommates is now widely known in gay circles. Two gracious gay
men put Rudy on their couch between two of his wives—not actually
between the wives, but between the divorce proceedings with those
wives—although the other image is better.
(I presume it was a nice log cabin somewhere on the upper
east side. Probably an enormous penthouse and—knowing gay
Republicans—with plenty of closets!). Well Rudy woke up on the wrong
side of the couch one day. No, make that he woke up on the far right side
of the couch one day and said “Hey fellas, I’m sort of going to have
to back down on some of those civil liberties things I’ve been saying.
You just don’t know what they’ll do to me in South Carolina. I’m
getting barbequed. I know this hurts, but I’ve got to look at the big
picture. After I get elected, I’ll gird my loins again and camp it up.
I’ll even come back for the Gay Pride Parade! Promise!” (Let’s see,
that would be Pride, then prejudice.)
If wife Judy rang Rudy’s cell phone during this
heart-to-heart homo talk would he say, “Honey would you like to say
hello to my two queer buddies that I just stabbed in the back? They’re
such good sports!”
And the bronze medal of hypocrisy goes to the silver fox, a
once nascent candidate and thrice married Newt Gingrich! His knots have
been tied so often Ken Burns is doing a special on Newt’s Knots. I, for
one, just want to see the man with three wives explain the one man-one
woman rule to his lesbian sister Candace.
You see, Newt used the hospital visitation rights he would
deny his sister Candace and her partner to visit his first wife while she
was recovering from cancer surgery. Under his arm were divorce papers. (Oh
well, divorce papers or daffodils. What’s the
difference?)
Wife # 2 received a call on her mother’s eightieth birthday
(at which Newt was unavailable) and she got the news it was time for the
speaker to be scurrying. So there you have it: two knots landing flat at
the feet of disposable women.
The latest coverage in the Post about Newtie was him
following behind his third wife with her tripod. She was taking photos of
the nation’s capital and writing a story about god and country. Got
that? God and country. Third wife. Tripod. You can’t make this up. I
suppose they just saved the shaft for Candace.
With the gold, silver and bronze medals all being costume
jewelry worn by fake heinous hypocrites, there’s only one true choice
for the vicious values voter. Those bible bigots want pure manly men who
never prevaricate. So here’s the ticket: Enter stage right Tom DeLay and
the macho military gay basher General Peter Pace. “The Hammer and the
Homo-phobe” have a ticket that’s a slogan. DeLay Pace 08! They won’t
just delay pace.
They’ll promise that bridge to the past and set this
country back centuries.
DeLay Pace. You’ll love 1608! If Hillary
doesn’t bat this one out of the park, all homos head to Canada.
Brent Mundt makes a living in Washington and a life in Rehoboth
Beach.
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